Iseult’s expression remained impassive, though his anger was growing. “You’ve proven yourself skilled at manipulation. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
Conall snorted and cast his hand into the air, dismissing the thought. “Lead the people out to meet An Fiach, if you wish.”
“There must be another way out of the city,” Iseult said instantly, undeterred. If more men from the north would be joining Conall’s ranks, they had to get in some way.
Conall seemed to think about what Iseult said, then he raised a pudgy finger into the air as if he’d just had a grand idea. “There is a way out,” he said with a snide grin. “And I will have someone guide you to it, if you agree to leave quietly, under guard.”
So that was his plan after all, Iseult thought. Conall would sneak the rest of his men into the city, unbeknownst to the settlers or An Fiach. Before the refugees knew it, they would be surrounded by savage warriors, left with only two choices. Fight against their own countrymen, or die.
Iseult pondered his options. He could easily leave quietly, continue on his mission to find Finn, and eventually absolve his ancestors of their mistakes. Yet, he knew if his mother would have been alive to see that moment, she would have cursed the promise she forced him to make when he was young. These were living, breathing people on the line. His ancestor’s honor could wait.
Just as Iseult had made up his mind, Maarav answered, “We could leave quietly, that’s true, but what would be the fun in that?”
At Maarav’s words, Conall lifted a hand into the air. The hidden door behind the throne burst outward, revealing several men, large and stocky like Conall, dressed in hides and fur, wielding either massive axes, or greatswords that likely weighed more than Ealasaid.
Within seconds, Iseult had his short sword in one hand, and a parrying dagger in the other. He glanced to see Maarav with daggers in either hand. They were probably both about to die trying to save people who should have meant nothing to them, but at least they’d die with honor.
As the warriors approached, Iseult cast a quick glance toward the stairs, wondering if he could reach them to warn the townsfolk before he got sliced in two, but more warriors had come from somewhere below to block the way. Conall had planned the moment well.
The warriors charged, and Ealasaid screamed. Then the room filled with what Iseult could only call lightning, though they were indoors. He dropped to the ground as a bolt shot toward him. Many of the slower, bulky warriors weren’t as lucky. The lightning hit them, blasting them off their feet to the ground.
“Like trying to control the Earthen Mother herself!” Maarav shouted happily as he rushed past Iseult toward Ealasaid. The uninjured warriors gathered themselves and charged while their comrades shakily got to their feet. None in the room had been killed, but those on the stairs had been knocked backward to tumble from whence they came.
Thinking that forcing the unharmed warriors to follow them into the street seemed like as good a plan as any, Iseult followed as Maarav hurried Ealasaid toward the landing. The three of them ran as footsteps thundered behind them. Iseult expected an axe to find his back at any moment, but the blow never came. The trio took turns leaping over the body of a reiver who’d fallen down the stairs, landing halfway down the flight with his neck twisted at an unnatural angle.
They reached the bottom of the stairs, only to be met by more warriors, one of whom had fallen all the way down from the top, yet was somehow already climbing to his feet. Maarav, holding onto Ealasaid by the backs of her arms, thrust the poor girl toward the reivers like she was a weapon to be wielded. Lightning shot from her hands, knocking the men aside. The three of them made their way to the tower doors and burst out into the sunlight.
Many settlers had gathered around the exterior of the tower, no doubt curious about the commotion from within. Iseult and his companions joined the relative safety of the crowd, then turned to face Conall’s men. The crowd’s curiosity turned to terror as the pack of reivers poured out into the street.
Iseult wracked his brain as he scanned the townsfolk around him. Spotting the man with their horses, he approached and quickly took the reins, then placed several coins in the man’s trembling palm.
As he handed the reins of their horses to both Maarav and Ealasaid, he pondered his options. He could lead the settlers out the front gates, but An Fiach would be waiting not far off. He needed to find the other way out of the city, but how?
“Conall has lied to you!” Ealasaid shouted, now safely hidden within the crowd. “These men have come to invade our great land!”
The reivers had come to a standstill, only now aware of their folly. There was no telling how many within the crowd wielded magic much more devastating than Ealasaid’s.
“Is it true?” an unknown face in the crowd asked.
“Where is Conall?” another inquired.
“Let him answer for himself!” another shouted.
A moment later, Conall appeared within the doorway of the tower. He sauntered out amongst his men, belly jutted outward in confidence.
“My dear people!” he shouted. “Had I not told you that reinforcements were on the way? These men are here to protect you. They,” he began, throwing a finger toward Iseult and Maarav, who towered above most of the crowd “would see you handed to An Fiach, the true enemy.”
“He’s buying time until the rest of his men can arrive!” Maarav shouted. “We must find another way out of the city!”
The settlers looked around, confused.
Conall smiled. “Leave if you like!” he shouted. “If you believe An Fiach will treat you more fairly than someone who has been persecuted, just as you have, then I beseech you to run willingly toward their waiting swords!”
More murmurs sounded amongst the crowd.
“There is another way out of the city!” Iseult announced. “One that Conall has kept hidden from you all!”
The murmurs grew louder. Conall looked nervous once more.
“There is no other way out,” he argued. “You people rebuilt this city yourselves.”
“Not the walls!” someone shouted. “The walls were in place when I first arrived!”
Many mumbled their assent. It seemed none present had taken part in assembling the walls.
Conall’s face was beginning to turn red. His men shifted uncomfortably around him. “Search the walls if you so choose!” he snapped, “but the fact remains, you have nowhere else to go! Together we are strong, we can fight An Fiach. Alone, you will be cut down one by one.”
The crowd went silent.
Maarav leaned in close to Iseult. “I believe now is our cue to search for this apparent secret passage.”
Iseult nodded. There was no way of knowing how much time they had until the other reivers arrived, and he was sure that if he departed from the crowd, Conall would send his men after him, even if it meant exposing himself as a wanted criminal.
“Any who would like to avoid death may follow me!” Iseult shouted. “I will show you the way out, and leaving will be your choice.”
Maarav smirked and whispered, “So now you know the way out?”
Iseult did not respond. He had an idea, but there was no surety. Still, he was willing to stake his life on it. Given that the only other options were to wait for the reivers, or confront An Fiach outside of the gates, it would have to do.
Ealasaid couldn’t believe she had been such a blithering idiot. To blindly believe Conall’s intentions, simply because he was an outcast just like her.
She was lucky to have Maarav and Iseult, two men who were not blind, looking out for her, though she didn’t particularly like either of them. Still, following them was better than following the other magic users who’d been just as gullible toward Conall’s preachings.
Regardless, she wasn’t happy to be clinging to her horse as they rode through the streets, her pale blue skirts hitched high above her knees, following Iseult toward the East end of the ruined city.
Man
y of the other settlers had followed, though some surprisingly stayed behind with Conall and his men, likely hoping that swearing allegiance to the reivers would mean protection from An Fiach. Ealasaid doubted that would be the case for them. Reivers had no respect for the more civilized folk. Those who stayed behind would be little more than slaves, surviving only as long as they served a purpose. A purpose that would require they kill their own countrymen, likely not limited to An Fiach. While Ealasaid would have liked to see the men of the Hunt skewered, she would not willingly venture forth to attack innocents.
She nearly ran into Maarav’s black and white horse as he brought the animal to a skidding halt. They had reached the portion of wall that separated the city from the coast, and Iseult had dismounted to examine the structure.
They had enough magic users among them that they could probably blast down the wall, but it would take time. Most of the planks of wood were thicker than tree trunks, anchored deep within the ground. The wall had been built to withstand a siege. They could burn it, but it would take hours. Time was not on their side, especially if more reivers were on their way.
Ealasaid laughed to herself as she imagined a door opening within the wall, only to reveal a massive host of armed, brutish men, ready to herd herself and the others back to Conall. The fact that she was laughing at such a thought made her feel like she was losing her mind, which actually seemed a nice alternative to the current circumstances.
Maarav watched Iseult thoughtfully, then dismounted to join him. The two men looked so similar it was eerie, though their demeanors could not have contrasted more. Iseult seemed angry, while Maarav seemed merely curious. Ealasaid could not identify with either emotion, as she was simply scared out of her wits.
A few of the many settlers who had joined them had horses, and stayed mounted while Iseult inspected the wall. Ealasaid huffed and climbed down from her horse. She might be a follower just like the others, but she could at least be a useful follower.
Holding tightly to the reins of her horse, she approached the wall and began walking along it, opposite the direction of Iseult and Maarav. She thought back to the secret door within Conall’s tower as she paced. The only evidence of the door was the straight seam, slightly more prominent than the other joints within the wall.
Anxiety ate at her gut. Conall had confirmed that there was a secret passage within the city, but what if it wasn’t in the wall? They could be searching blindly until the reivers came to enslave them. They might as well start blasting away at the wall for the time it might save.
Steeling herself against her thoughts, she began to look at things logically. The land to the north of the ruined city was mountainous with dense vegetation. A large force of men would be greatly hindered coming from that direction, and coming from the east would put them too close to the camps of An Fiach. The western coast was the only option, something Iseult had obviously already figured out. The northern end of the coast in particular would be the best point of entry, as they would be far from An Fiach. Any men who chose to attack the incoming reivers would have to funnel along the narrow coast, making their ranks vulnerable.
Ealasaid began to look not only along the wall, but at the sparse buildings nearest them. Many were little more than ruins, but some had been built up to house settlers. One in particular was extremely well put together, solid and without any lower windows. The building was taller than average, and had small openings near the top of its walls, large enough for a man to fit through, but more likely made for those inside to look out across the city, given the window’s height.
She approached the building that had caught her attention, feeling vulnerable venturing a bit away from the waiting settlers. A reiver could jump out of the shadows to carry her away, and her companions would be none the wiser. Still, something about this building was giving her pause.
She circled the structure until she found the double doors that would lead inward. She grabbed one of the handles and rattled it, but the door didn’t budge. It seemed to be held in place from the inside.
Ealasaid jumped, then clutched at her chest as someone appeared at her side. Maarav raised his free hand in a calm down, it’s only me gesture, while his other hand remained on his horse’s reins.
Ealasaid turned back to the building in front of her to hide her blush. Doing her best to steady her breathing before speaking, she said, “The doors seem to be barred from the inside. It’s suspicious, isn’t it?”
Maarav nodded, handed Ealasaid the reins of his horse, then walked away toward the back of the building. A little rush of anger made Ealasaid’s face flush. He hadn’t even listened to her, then he’d just demoted her to horse holder. She had discovered something useful, but since she was a sheltered, young, village girl, no one would listen.
A moment later, as she stood still seething with quiet anger, there was a sound right on the other side of the door. She stepped backward, ready to scream that the reivers had arrived, cursing Maarav for not listening to her, then something heavy hit the ground inside, and the door swung outward, revealing a lone man, looking down at her with a mischievous smile.
As soon as she’d gathered her wits, she glared at Maarav. “You could have told me you were going inside! How in the blazes did you manage that?”
“The windows,” Maarav said simply as he reclaimed his horse’s reins, not elaborating on the fact that said openings were placed in a wall four times taller than Maarav himself.
Before Ealasaid could question him further, he ordered, “Gather the others. I’ll scout the way ahead.”
The way ahead? Ealasaid thought, dumfounded for a moment. Then it all became clear as Maarav led his horse inside the building to a massive open cellar in the middle of the floor. The rest of the interior was barren, except for a ladder that led to one of the windows, crafted as a lookout perch.
Trusting that the cellar was a way out of the city, Ealasaid hurried to find the others.
Within a few minutes, she had everyone willingly following her. She felt a surge of excitement as she led Iseult and the settlers back to the hidden exit. She remained on foot, dragging both her and Maarav’s horses behind her. Maarav had returned to the opening to meet them, and nodded that the way was clear as soon as Ealasaid and the others came into sight.
Relief washed through her. They might make it out of this alive. Though what she would do after that, she wasn’t sure.
Maarav began ushering the settlers through the underground tunnel while Iseult watched silently. Ealasaid wanted to rush ahead through the large, beam-supported tunnel, mounting her horse on the other side to rush away from everything, but steeled herself against her urges. She wanted to be one of the rescuers, not the rescued.
“They have nowhere to go,” Ealasaid heard Maarav comment quietly to Iseult.
“We’ve done what we can,” Iseult replied.
Ealasaid felt a shiver of fear. If Iseult and Maarav were planning to leave the settlers on their own, they might leave Ealasaid with them. If she was going to avenge her family, she needed to be amongst warriors, not common folk, magical abilities or no.
Maarav’s eyes met hers, as if sensing her thoughts. “You should catch up with the others,” he advised.
Her reply was cut off by the sound of a horn, somewhere outside the gates. Ealasaid’s eyes widened just as several figures moved into view from deeper within the city.
“You are too late,” Conall called, looking smug as he took a few steps forward, flanked by his men. “Though I admire your cleverness. A passage near the coast really was the only option.”
It all clicked into place. Conall’s reinforcements had arrived. That’s who had sounded the horn, and now the settlers would be trapped between the city and the oncoming reivers.
“We must warn them,” Ealasaid breathed, ignoring the fact that Conall and his men might try to bar their way.
Conall chuckled. “Warn them all, for what good it will do, but let them know they may still return to the cit
y to be part of a cause greater than they could have ever imagined.” Conall winked in Ealasaid’s direction. “You too, lass, though I fear your ill-chosen companions must die.”
Not thinking twice about the consequences of her actions, Ealasaid handed the reins of both horses to Maarav, then mustered what little strength she had left to summon a bolt of lighting. It struck in front of Conall and his men, temporarily scattering them.
“Run!” she shouted.
Iseult and Maarav did not question her. The three of them hurried into the secret passage. It was wide enough for five men to run side by side, and more than tall enough for their horses to trot behind them. They probably stood a better chance against Conall and his men than they did the incoming reivers, but at least outside of the city, they wouldn’t be trapped. Perhaps they could gain enough of a start up the coast to outpace the reivers, even if it put them in uncharted lands.
The air of the passage was stale, but Ealasaid could smell the salt of the ocean filtering through. They were close, though the supporting boards forming the tunnel seemed to go on forever. Her horse whinnied behind her, unhappy to be in a dark tunnel, led along beside two other horses. Ealasaid would have ridden her, but feared that areas of the tunnel would not be tall enough.
Suddenly, they had cleared the end of the tunnel. Cold, salty air hit Ealasaid’s face uncomfortably as the bright light burned her eyes. The first thing she noticed as her vision cleared was the fleet of ships in the distance. The second, was the group of settlers, huddled together and arguing what to do.
The first few settlers to spot Ealasaid seemed relieved, as if she would have a plan. She had a brief moment of pride before realizing that they were probably looking to Iseult and Maarav behind her.
Conall and his men hadn’t followed. There was no need. They were as good as trapped.
She looked to Maarav and Iseult. As much as she wanted to be a leader, she had no idea what to do.
“Too many mouths to feed,” Maarav muttered.
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