Balan joined him. And Galand. The defenders steadied, and rallied. To the left three Legion warriors broke through, leaping from the ramparts to the grass below and sprinting towards the hospital building. The first fell, an arrow piercing his back. The second stumbled as another shaft glanced from his helm, stunning him. Then Rayvan stepped from the building with sword in hand.
The men grinned as they ran at her.
With surprising speed she blocked the first blow and then dived into them, her great weight hurling them to the ground. Her sword snaked out, slicing the throat of the first.
The second man rolled clear. 'You fat sow!' he yelled.
Rayvan heaved herself upright as the man charged forward. Then Thorn loosed an arrow that thudded into the soldier's thigh; he shouted in pain and swung round. Rayvan's sword plunged into his back. She watched the battle on the wall for several moments. . The line would not hold for much longer.
Galand fought beside Ananais now, moving where the battle was most deadly. The Legion, sensing victory close at hand, did not fall back but milled below the wall, pushing their ladders high. More and more Legion men gained the ramparts.
Ananais could feel the battle ebbing from them and a cold fury settled over him. Despite the odds against them, and his certain knowledge that they could not win, it still galled him terribly. He had done little with his life, save never to lose. Now even this small comfort was being stripped from him at the death.
He blocked a lunge, spun his blade and plunged it up and under a black helm. The man fell back, dropping his sword which Ananais swept up as he advanced into the mass, two swords now whirling and killing. He was bleeding from a score of minor cuts, but his strength was unimpaired.
A tremendous roar went up from behind the wall. Ananais could not turn, but he saw the consternation in the eyes of the invaders. Suddenly Rayvan was beside him, a shield on her arm and a sword in her hand. The Legion were pushed back.
The women of Skoda had arrived!
Lacking skill with weapons, they threw themselves forward lashing out blindly, bearing the invaders before them by sheer weight of numbers.
The last Legion warrior was hurled from the wall and the Skoda men took up their bows, sending the invaders running back out of range.
'Clear the dead from the ramparts!' shouted Ananais.
For several moments there was no movement as men hugged their wives and daughters, sisters and mothers. Others knelt by still bodies, weeping openly.
'There is no time for this,' said Ananais, but Rayvan caught his arm.
'There is always time for this, Darkmask — it is what makes us human. Leave them be.'
Ananais nodded and sagged to the ramparts, pushing his aching back against the wall.
'You amaze me, woman!'
'You are easily amazed,' she said, sliding in beside him.
He glanced at her and grinned. 'I'll bet you were a beauty in your youth?'
'I've heard you were, too!'
He chuckled and closed his eyes.
'Why don't we get married?' he suggested.
'We shall be dead by tomorrow.'
'Then we should forget about a long engagement.'
'You are too old for me, Darkmask.'
'How old are you?'
'Forty-six,' said Rayvan.
'Perfect!'
'You must be desperate. And you are bleeding — get off and have those wounds seen to.'
'One proposal and already you are starting to nag.'
'Women are like that. Go on with you!'
She watched him walk to the hospital, then pulled herself to her feet and transferred her gaze to the Legion. They were forming up again.
Rayvan turned to the defenders. 'Clear the dead from the walls, you numbskulls!' she shouted. 'Come on now. Move yourselves. You women, grab some swords. And find yourselves some helmets,' she yelled as an afterthought. A dead Legion soldier lay close to her and she tugged loose his.helm before rolling the body from the ramparts. The helm was bronze with a black horse-hair plume. It fitted well, she thought, as she buckled the chin-strap.
'You looked damned fetching, Rayvan,' said Thorn, moving alongside her.
'Fancy people in helmets, do you, you old stag?'
'I have always fancied you, woman! Ever since that day in the north meadow.'
'Ah, you do remember? That is a compliment.'
Thorn laughed. 'I don't think any man would forget you.'
'Only you would talk about sex in the middle of a battle. You are a goat, old man! At least Ananais had the courtesy to ask me to marry him.'
'Did he now? Don't accept — he has a roving eye.'
'It won't rove far in a day,' she said.
The Legion charged again.
For an hour they fought to gain a toehold on the ramparts, but the defenders had found fresh strength and courage. Lake had gathered sacks of small stones which he poured into the bowls of his giant bows. Three times the missiles whistled and slashed into the Legion before one of the bows snapped under the strain.
The invaders fell back.
As the sun fell on the third day the wall still held.
Ananais called Balan to him. 'What news of Tarsk?'
'It is strange,' said Balan. 'There was one attack this morning, but since then nothing. The army merely sits.'
'I wish to Heaven they would do that here,' said Ananais.
Tell me, Darkmask, are you a believer?'
'In what?'
'You mentioned Heaven.'
'I don't know enough to believe,' said Ananais.
'Decado promised me that I would not be alone. And yet I am. The others have gone. Either they are dead and I am a fool, or they have been taken to the Source and I am refused.'
'Why should you be refused?'
Balan shrugged. 'I never had faith, I had talents. My faith was part of a corporate faith. You understand? The others believed and I felt their belief. With them gone… I don't know any more.'
'I cannot help you, Balan.'
'No. No one can.'
'I think maybe it is better to believe than not to believe. But I couldn't tell you why,' said Ananais.
'It creates hope against the evil of the world,' said Balan.
'Something like that. Tell me, do husbands and wives stay together in your heaven?'
'I don't know. That has been a debating point for centuries,' said the priest.
'But there is a chance?'
'I suppose so.'
'Then come with me,' said Ananais, pulling the man to his feet. They walked across the grass to the tents of the refugees where Rayvan sat with her friends.
She watched them approach, then Ananais halted before her and bowed.
'Woman, I have a priest with me. Do you wish to wed again?'
'You fool!' she said, chuckling.
'Not at all. I have always wanted to find a woman with whom I would like to spend the rest of my life. But I never have. Now it looks as though I am going to spend the rest of my life with you. So I thought I would make an honest woman of you.'
'This is all well and good, Darkmask,' she said, pushing herself to her feet, 'except that I don't love you.'
'Nor I you. But once you appreciate my great qualities, I am sure you will come round.'
'Very well,' said Rayvan with a broad smile. 'But there will be no consummation until the third night. Mountain custom!'
'Agreed,' said Ananais. 'Anyway, I have a headache.'
'This is a nonsense,' snapped Balan. 'I will have no part in it — it makes a mockery of a sacred bond.'
Ananais laid his hand on Balan's shoulder. 'No, it does not, priest,' he said softly. 'It is a light-hearted moment in the midst of horror. Look around you at the smiles.'
Balan sighed. 'Very well. Both of you approach.'
Refugees poured from the tents as the word spread and several women gathered flowers which they turned into garlands. Wine was brought forth. Word even reached the hospital, where Valtaya had just finished working; she wandered out into the night, unsure of her feelings.