by Andre Norton
The few remaining killers were quickly brought down after that, none seeking quarter and no quarter being offered them.
On shore, too, the battle had raged, although on a much smaller scale. The captain had erred in believing no guards would be stationed on the cliffs, but fortune had been rarely lenient, and the watchmen were there only to defend against possible damage to the perishable cargo by vermin or other wild intruders should the storehouse be left unattended All had been asleep at the time of the assault, and the invaders were up the cliff and upon them before they realized anything .was seriously amiss. They died rapidly, without inflicting much of the damage which had potentially been theirs to wreak.
All experienced something of a surprise, almost a disappointment, that the long-anticipated engagement should be ended so soon, but that feeling passed off even as it was born, and the mercenaries raised their swords high in the victory salute of their race.
It was a salute twice given, each man first lifting his own weapon, then lowering it again while the blades of. those unable to wield them were held aloft. There were several of these last, for the victory had not come without its price, some belonging to the slain, the rest to the gravely wounded.
25
That gesture released Una. She had watched the battle from the Tern as Tarlach had bidden, in an agony of fear for the Falconer captain that overrode even her disgust at the slaughter she was witnessing. Now that it was ended, she wanted only to fly to him, to feel his arms around her and to assure herself that he was truly all right.
No such display was possible. She held herself to the degree of haste and purpose appropriate to her rank and her healer's art.
She crossed over to the bloodstained wrecker, accepting Santor's steadying hand, and started for the group of men comprised of Elfthorn and the Falconer officers.
The woman's pace quickened when she saw the blood on the commander's shoulder. When she reached him, she pulled aside the rent leather.
“Clean and bind this,” she told Brennan crisply, although she breathed an inner sigh of relief; the wound was no more than a gash, long but not deep.
She turned back to the captain.
“Where have you laid your sore wounded?”
“On the deck over there until we can see to them, all but one man on the cliff. They can be moved to the Tern and brought home once their injuries have been dressed.”
Una's eyes flickered to Storm Challenger, but her question regarding him was spoken merely to conceal her gift. She knew already that the war bird was unhurt despite his bloodied appearance.
Two of his kind did need her aid, as did a number of the human blank shields, and she delayed no longer in going to them. She had no fear as to her reception. Falconers knew how to take care of battle damage, but a healer of her competence was not often to be found, and she knew they would welcome her help for their more serious cases rather than merely submit to her right to give it.
As for the dead, the mercenaries’ own would be brought back to Seakeep. Their enemies would be buried here in a single grave, all but Ogin, whose body they would take with them to Ravenfield to stand as proof of his death.
Because the sole casualty resulting from the assault on the cliff was too gravely wounded to be moved to the Tern as he was, the Holdlady accompanied the Falconers and Elfthorn when they went ashore to inspect the beach and warehouse and examine the materials stored therein.
She was with her patient a long while, and when she at last rose to her feet, it was with drooping shoulders and a lowered head. She had succeeded in making him comfortable, in inducing the sleep which had, astonishingly, eluded him, but healing was beyond her ability or, she believed beyond the ability of any other. A spear had pierced him, slicing the bottom of the stomach and then traveling obliquely through his body so that it cut his intestines not once but through several folds.
His falcon sat on the shelf above the bunk where he had been laid. She, too, knew the nature of the wound, had known even before the woman examined him, and she was whimpering so piteously that her grief wrung Una's, heart. Would she do this to Bravery if she should somehow be slain? she wondered. Would she suffer so if she should lose the kitten?
She took the bird up oh her arm, stroking her feathers, giving what comfort she could, which was only that of sympathy and understanding, but she did not attempt to persuade her to leave the place with her. These two would remain together until the man died. After that, she understood from Tarlach, the falcon would be united with another warrior following a period of mourning if she would choose to accept one.
Since there was nothing more she could do for him, the Daleswoman committed the dying mercenary to the care of his comrades and prepared to return to the beach and then to the Tern. If there was no further help she could give to this man, there were several aboard her vessel who would profit well from her skills.
Elfthorn helped settle the wounded and arrange for their care during the voyage back to Seakeep harbor, then reported to the Falconer commander that all was in readiness, although he knew it would be some time yet before they would be able to depart. Tarlach had forbidden the Tern to try running the Cradle before she had at least the light of a perceptible dawn to guide her.
The Merchant captain did not envy him that decision. Several of the wounded were heavily hurt, two to the extent that the delay in reaching permanent quarters and full care could possibly ensure their deaths. He, himself the commander of a closely bound unit, readily understood how such an order could—must—tear a man, as he knew that no other could ease or lift the burden of it from the Falconer.
Tarlach's eyes strayed to the place where the Tern was moored. He wondered how those aboard her were doing and if the gravely hurt men would survive the night and the voyage home. The next several hours were critical for them, he knew.
It had been a costly engagement for one of its magnitude, he thought. Seven warriors were dead, and twice that number were significantly wounded, two of them grievously. The company would not remain an effective unit for long if it continued to sustain losses like that.
He sighed. At least they had the good fortune to be pledged to Seakeepdale. Many other holds did not treat so well blank shields felled in their cause, but they had no fear of neglect from Una's people.
His pulse leaped suddenly, but then he frowned. It was hours yet before even the first precursor of dawn should be visible. Why should the two ships out there be so readily visible?
Why should the sky be brightening in the west?
He knew the answer in his sick heart, and the next moment confirmed it. A lurid red glow materialized out of the blackness above the Cradle. It quickly strengthened, first into light and then into fire, an evil, lifeless fire that seemed to defy nature, aye, and possibility itself.
The others were aware of it as well. None .of them suspected as yet that they were watching the coming of doom, but no one could doubt that, this was a happening of great Power and that its origin was not likely to be any wellspring of the Light. They were afraid, but for now, they drew sword and waited. Even the falcons did not yet know the true scope of this disaster as they screamed their challenge to the Dark.
He saw her then, the Lady of Seakeep, walking purposefully down the beach. She did not pause until she had reached the edge of that place where the land stretched farthest out into the sea. There, she stopped and stood facing the burning gate opening above the Cradle.
“Una, no!”
The Falconer scarcely realized he had begun to ran until he came to a halt beside her.
“What do you think to. do?” he demanded harshly.
“Whatever I can. My sister told me I had a store of Power—”
“Sleeping and untrained!”
“The attempt must be made, Tarlach. At the least, it will be better to die trying to stop that thing than merely cowering in terror before it.—By the Maid and Matron!”
Within that unnatural fire they could see something, or the s
uggestion of something, a great, misshapen head that appeared to be all jaws, jaws filled with row upon row of fangs. Even from here, they were clearly visible.
Tarlach's eyes closed but opened again in the next instant. His terror would not permit him to shut out sight of the monstrosity.
The Dog was not yet free. He could see it struggling, fighting to rip apart the last thin shields holding it away from the realm of life it had longed for so great an expanse of time to ravage. Soon now, probably within minutes, it would have achieved its freedom.
Una of Seakeep looked up at him.
“You should be with your comrades,” she told him gently. “Go back to them now.”
“My oath is to you.”
“I release you, Tarlach. This goes beyond anything you plighted yourself to face.” There was no hope of life in , that, but she might perhaps win him a few more seconds.
“There: is more binding us than an oath.”
“There is more,” she agreed quietly.
“Then grant me this, that if I am to meet my death on this beach, it shall at least be at your side.”
He turned once more to the sea and the doom growing ever stronger there. He would die, but it would be in . Una's cause, striving to defend her in the short time remaining to him. Above all, he vowed to himself that he would give her an easier death than she would meet from that horror beyond the gate, that he would give her fine spirit a true and clean release.
Storm Challenger and the other falcons he tried to dismiss, for their wings might win life or extend life for them, but all held fast to the bonds uniting them with their comrades. They, too, would attempt to stand their world's cause against this thing of the Dark.
The gate was giving way!
He was startled to see Una spring forward and only barely restrained himself from throwing himself after her when he realized the Holdlady was still in her place beside him.
The spirit Una!
The one his lady had named sister moved through the waves, on the waves. She advanced steadily until she had crossed half the distance between the shore and the opening gate. There, she stopped.
For one instant, she stood, still as a pillar of stone, then she sprang even as the gate tore open. It was not a seeming woman that leaped forth but light itself, fire, a blistering arrow of green flame which ripped into that dread passage and struck squarely that which sought to emerge from it.
The night exploded in light and sound as green flame and red fought together on the sea and above it, each struggling to devour the other. Thunder rent the sky, and the air around them turned, not hot, but bitterly cold.
At last it was over, and whether the battle had lasted minutes or many hours, none of the watchers would ever be able to say of his own self. The superphysical lights vanished, the red abruptly, the green first weaving itself again and again through the air above the Cradle before fading gently into oblivion, leaving behind it only the rich velvet blackness of their world's night.
Una sagged against Tarlach. She was weeping softly.
“We would not grant her the life she craved, and yet she spent her life thus for us.”
The man gave her no reply save to hold her closer to him, but it was not the excess of brilliance they had endured which set his eyes streaming.
26
It was some minutes before he trusted himself enough to turn quietly away from the ocean. With his arm still about the woman in support and comfort, he started walking back .toward his comrades.
Elfthorn hastened forward to take charge of the Holdlady, but the glare Tarlach fixed on him made him quickly step away again, nor did the Falconer leader remove his arm from her until Una herself straightened and took her own weight back upon herself.
Explanation had to be made, and the Daleswoman described the warning they had received from their spirit informer and detailed their reasoning for keeping this intelligence from their warriors even while she apologized for having done so. Of her relationship with the other Una prior to that last, fateful visit, she did not speak.
Only a few questions were directed at her despite the similarity between the spirit and. herself, and she was soon able to take her leave of the fighters and seek the rest her body and mind and soul so greatly needed.
There was no such mercy shown to Tarlach. His comrades were angry over his silence, and he knew that if he did not satisfy them, the company would cease to exist as a unit with the conclusion of this commission.
Patiently, he reiterated what Una had already told them of their reasons for keeping the news of the true danger they faced to themselves.
“What would your knowing have accomplished?” he asked in the end. “We could not have fought that thing, and the fear of waking it would only have rendered you less able against those who did lie within the scope of our ability to defeat.—By the Eyrie, what do you imagine drove me to throw myself into the middle of those wreckers as I .did if not my dread that any delay in concluding the battle might rouse the Dog? Fortune was rarely kind to let me come out of that one alive.”
“All right, Tarlach,” Rorick said hastily. “I suppose you are right, but that thing put the Ice Dragon's chill on all of us.”
“You should have been feeling the way I did,’’ he muttered.
That brought a sympathetic laugh from more than one of his companions. The .lieutenant smiled as well, but his eyes remained somber.
“What connection did that spirit thing have with the Lady Una? Their resemblance proclaims that there needs must be some association.”
A silence was on the assembled warriors. Their captain's possible answer to that, the depth of his knowledge concerning it, was a matter troubling to most of them.
“Am I supposed to be the Holdlady's confidant as well as her hired sword that she should discuss such a subject with” me?” he responded irritably.
“Perhaps you are.”
That came from one of the outermost, of those gathered around him. Tarlach's head snapped toward the man.
His already ragged temper broke.
“The Lady Una shared the knowledge of our peril. I know too well what she endured since we learned that, and it is logical to assume that there was some sort of feeling between her and the being who saved us. If we are not capable of acting with compassion, then I do not know what titles we may lay on ourselves, but humanity cannot be numbered among them!”
His eyes swept his companions. There had been enough truth in that to set their minds at rest, and he took hold of himself. It would do no good and perhaps might cause much harm to press the question further.
Pleading his very real and apparent weariness, he separated from them. Tarlach found a sheltered spot near the cliff wall and drew his cloak around himself. Within minutes, he had sunk into the deep, dreamless sleep of exhaustion.
Brennan woke him shortly after dawn.
“Sorry, Tarlach, but you had best be moving.”
“The fleet is in?” he asked, as, he sat up, rubbing his. eyes.
“Aye.”
"How does the landing progress?”
“Well. All should be ashore by the time you have eaten.”
“The Tern is gone?”
The lieutenant nodded.
“With the first light as you commanded,”
“Excellent.—The wounded?”
“They are all living. We can credit lina of Seakeep for that.”
His commander came to his feet.
“Good news. I had not really expected it.”
He studied the busy scene around him with satisfaction.
“It goes well indeed. We will move out as soon as everything is fully ordered.”
Falconers fought and traveled mounted whenever possible, but, as they functioned effectively at sea, so, too, could they perform well as infantry. Their march over Ravenfleld's wild highlands was swift and smooth, untroubled by either natural difficulty or human opposition.
They kept careful watch against, the last but had littl
e actual fear of it. The remoteness and rugged nature of their route would have made discovery unlikely in any Dale, and Ogin's people had been trained to keep within their village and the circle of cultivated land around it. They had no reason to wander out so far, and few of them would have had the desire to do so even if they possessed the courage or the folly to thus defy their lord. The company could be high unto certain that they would be able to pass through unsighted and unhindered.
Such excellent progress did they make that they reached the rendezvous site somewhat before schedule and were forced to conceal themselves nearby until the Dale unit arrived to join with them.
Their wait was not long. The column out of Seakeep, Rufon at its head, had been able to hold a fast pace as well, and the two forces were united hours in advance of their proposed meeting time.
With their army at full strength at last, the invaders no longer buried themselves in the wild lands on Ravenfield outskirts but moved on a straight course toward their goal, bearing themselves in battle readiness.
So swiftly did they march that the villagers and garrison had no warning of their coming until they broke suddenly upon the Dale's pasture lands in the early morning as the herdsmen were leading out their animals to feed.
The Ravenfield warriors and the people nearest their keep were able to take refuge within, but then had to flee, leaving their livestock and goods behind. Whatever stronghold contained in the way of foodstuffs would have to suffice for the duration of the siege.
Then began day upon weary day of talk as Una and·Tarlach strove to negotiate Ravenfield's surrender.
Ogin's body was displayed prove that there was no longer any need for either fear or loyalty to him, and the story of the Cormorants death and her survivors’ escape was told in explanation of this assault.
Oaths were sworn that the lives of the Dalesfolk and garrison would be spared and that there would be no pillage of lands or goods, a fact borne out by their treatment of those who had been unable to gain the shelter of the keep.
It was a difficult task, and for a time it seemed they would fail in it, but the captain had judged rightly the effect of Una's presence, the weight and power of her word and the respect in which her house was held, and in the end, the banner of Ogin's line was lowered in admission of defeat.