"What happened?" she asked. "He didn't succumb to your spell."
"No," he uttered. "I've almost exhausted my energy. Quick, move the body and remove the drop bar while I gather some things together."
Hayley did as she was bid. The bar lifted easily, and the door swung open to reveal the field beyond with the knights approaching, but she still heard the familiar sound of crossbows being fired.
"We must do something," she urged, turning her attention inward.
Revi had found some sacks that he was now pouring oil over. "Get that lantern over there lit," he said, pointing. "This won't take much to burn."
She grabbed the lantern and crouched in the doorway, pulling forth a flint and steel from her belt pouch. In no time at all she had it lit and lifted it up to observe the room in more detail.
Revi rushed toward her, running for the open door. "Don't just stand there," he shouted, "toss the damned thing and then run."
She threw the lantern toward the pile he had made and watched as it slowly burned to life. Revi grabbed her arm, pulling her outside and then dove for the ground, still grasping her. They rolled and then Revi sat up, straddling her.
"What was that for?" she asked.
Revi blushed. "I thought it was going to explode," he confessed. "I was afraid we'd be caught in the blast."
"It's just a fire, Revi," she reassured him. "We had plenty of time."
They looked back at the tower to see thick black smoke beginning to spread.
"Looks like it worked," said Hayley.
"Sorry," said Revi. "I should let you get up."
"It's all right," offered the ranger. "I kind of like the view from down here. Tell me Master Mage, is this how all mages court?"
Revi blushed again, rising to his feet. "I hardly think..." his voice trailed off.
"I'm just teasing you, Revi."
The crossbowmen were calling out in alarm as the smoke made its way up the tower. The knights, no longer molested by flying bolts, rode up and made short work of the catapults, then advanced on the tower.
"The defenders should be coming out shortly," Revi informed them.
A tremendous explosion from within the tower blew bits of debris through the doorway, creating a deadly cone of shrapnel that barely missed the mage as he bent over to help the ranger up.
"Or not," continued the mage. He turned back to the ranger, "I thought you said it's just a fire."
"Hey, now," said Hayley, "don't look at me. I'm not the expert."
Arnim, hearing Nicole's voice, had struck out after them, but the press of people slowed his progress. Now he found himself exiting the city through the northeast gate, across the drawbridge and onto the causeway. He pushed his way to the side and stood on the lip of the causeway, desperate to catch sight of his target. Peering through the throngs of people he spied Nicole first, pushing her way past carts and animals, hot on the trail of Captain Fraser. Just in front of her was the fugitive, and as Arnim watched, she called out to him. The man wheeled on her, drawing a dagger, but Nicole was just as quick. She hefted her skirt and produced her own weapon from the garter on her left leg. Now they faced each other; the crowd backing up to give them room.
Arnim jumped down from his perch, making his way toward them as quickly as he could.
Nicole struck with the blade, drawing first blood as it sliced across the back of his hand. Fraser cursed and stabbed forward, but the maid was fleet of foot, and his weapon met empty air. Again she sliced forward, this time a feint and he moved to block the blow. Her leg came up, and she kicked him in the stomach, winding him as she drove him back.
He circled his blade, daring her to come forward once more, but she held her distance, weighing her options. He was wearing chainmail, and she knew her dagger could do little to penetrate the well-made links. She would have to get in close, where she could use her mass to push the blade through the armour. She stabbed forward, driving him back and then rushed him suddenly, her dagger held before her.
Her attack was quick, but his response was faster. He parried with his own weapon, and the blade flew from her hand, to land amongst the crowd. She had only a moment to register the attack and then there was a dagger at her throat; she immediately ceased her movement.
"Go ahead," she said through gritted teeth, "get it over with."
"Oh no," he gloated, "I'm not going to kill you yet. You're going to help me get away."
"Never!" she said.
"Turn around," he commanded.
She wanted to fight, to die with the knowledge that she could defeat his purpose, but couldn't do it. She turned her back to him, and a moment later his arm was around her, the knife held at her throat. His other hand was holding her by the waist, to use as a hostage as he began backing up. From her vantage point, she could clearly see the look of horror on the crowd's faces as they watched the scene unfold before them.
The bystanders parted, and suddenly Arnim was there; his sword drawn, ready for action.
Arnim stepped forward, "Surrender, Fraser, it's all over."
"Not for me," the traitor responded. "You seem to forget, I have your friend here."
"You won't get away," said Arnim. "You've nowhere to run."
"I'll take my chances," he announced, his eyes casting around desperately. He took a step backwards, closer to the edge of the causeway and Arnim took a step forward to follow.
"Stay where you are," commanded Fraser, "or I'll kill her right now."
"Kill her," growled Arnim, "and your hostage is gone, and I'll cut you to ribbons."
Captain Fraser seemed to relax, a strange sense of calm coming over him. "Perhaps you're right," he said, his voice no longer strained. "I should have realized that a hostage wouldn't have worked with Mercerians, you're barbarians after all."
Arnim saw the trap, but it was too late. Captain Fraser lowered the dagger from Nicole's throat, but before Arnim could react, he pushed her to the side, sending her tumbling into the water.
"Goodbye, Sir Arnim," the man gloated, "may we never meet again." He turned, running eastward across the causeway.
Arnim saw him run, started to go after him, but then the panicked sounds of Nicole in the water pulled his attention to her plight. Her head disappeared beneath the surface, and she re-emerged only to be carried downstream. She was clearly struggling, and then her head submerged once more, her hands flailing about uselessly.
Arnim cursed, dropping his weapon. He began unbuckling his sword belt and called to the crowd, "Someone help me out of this mail."
Freed of the weight of the chainmail, he stood a moment on the low wall and then dove into the water, disappearing beneath its surface. He emerged a moment later, trying to get his bearings. The people watching from the causeway pointed downstream, and he struck out with his arms and legs, swimming toward the indicated area.
Nicole felt her strength failing, felt the cold of the water seeping into her bones. Her dress, now a great weight, sucked her into the depths of the river. She struggled to battle the rising panic, to surrender to the sweet bliss of death, but she couldn't fight her nature. All her life she had fought to survive; she would not submit to this fate!
Somehow she managed to break the surface, taking a ragged breath of air, but then a wave caught her, splashing into her mouth, sending sea water down her throat. She tried to call out, but her head sank beneath the waves again, the water surrounding her.
Something grabbed her, pulling her to the surface until she was floating on her back as someone dragged her toward the bank.
"I've got you, Nikki," came Sir Arnim's reassuring voice, and she thought she was in the past. Was this the Underworld, she pondered, to be forced to relive your memories?
Her foot hit bottom, and suddenly she was hauled to her feet.
A gentle hand brushed her hair from her eyes. "You're safe now," came Arnim's voice again.
Nicole blinked, her saviour's face coming into focus just before she collapsed into his arms.
&n
bsp; Lady Aubrey Brandon knelt, examining a wound. The soldier was clutching his arm, his shoulder a mess of blood. She laid her blood-soaked hands on him and murmured an incantation. Flesh and bone knitted itself together while her patient's breathing grew normal once again, a sure sign that the pain had been removed.
"Get this man out of here," she called, "he's needed back at the barricade."
She saw Princess Anna moving between the patients who were laid out on the cathedral floor. She was giving them hope, holding the hands of the ones who were dying and comforting those she could.
A yell from the doorway, caused Aubrey to rise to her feet. She spotted the cavalier, Jack Marlowe, leading a procession of men who were bearing a stretcher. She rushed over, her own eyes confirming her suspicions; Prince Alric laying deathly pale between them.
"Put him down at once," she commanded as she began to examine him for wounds.
"He took one from the back, into his side," said Jack. "He's lost a lot of blood."
They lowered him carefully, stepping back to allow her access. His breathing was shallow, his skin pale and she thought at first she might be too late. She lowered her ear to his chest to hear a slight fluttering of his heart.
She began the spell, trying to pull forth all the power she could muster. Surface wounds were easy to heal, but this was something altogether different. She was still only an apprentice, and she worried it might be too much for her. The familiar tingling was in her fingers, and soon a warmth spread over her as the energy began to flow. She closed her eyes, tried to concentrate on the task at hand. The wound manifested itself in her mind; she imagined the flesh and bone knitting itself back together. She opened her eyes to see her hands, glowing brightly, infusing Alric with her magic. His body appeared to illuminate and then it slowly dissipated.
"Will he live?" came a voice.
Aubrey turned her head, too exhausted by her spell to talk. Beside her, Princess Anna knelt, holding the young prince's hand.
"I'm not sure," she stammered out, wiping a trickle of blood from her nose. "I've done all I can, but I've been healing people all day, I have no energy left. If Revi were here..."
"Revi will be here shortly," said Anna, her voice breaking.
"How can you be so sure?" asked Jack.
"The catapults have stopped," the princess replied. "The bluff has been retaken."
Jack looked down on his prince, tears running down his face, "You would have been proud of him, Princess. He led the cavalry, retook the barricade-"
Anna wheeled on him, fury in her eyes, "He's not dead, Jack. Don't talk of him as if he is!"
"Sorry, Highness," Jack said, falling silent.
"Let's get him somewhere more comfortable," said Anna, casting her eyes about for an orderly.
"No," muttered Alric. "I shall stay here, with the men."
Anna teared up, gripping his hand even tighter, "Alric, I thought I'd lost you."
"I'll be fine," the prince bravely responded. "Your healer has seen to that. What news? Have we retaken the city?"
"I'm afraid not," offered Anna. "The catapults on the bluff are silent, but the fleet is still bombarding the walls. They've broken through the Traders Gate, but we've managed to contain them."
"It's not enough," stated Alric. "They'll just keep landing more men."
"Rest, Highness," said Aubrey. "You've lost a lot of blood. Others must take up the mantle, now."
"We must destroy the fleet," declared Alric. "It's the only way to beat them."
"It's getting dark, my prince," said Jack. "The catapults will have to cease, or they risk hitting their own men. Perhaps morning will bring better news."
Anna stood. She was gazing off to the distance, deep in thought.
A holy mother was chiding a helper, "Don't put the candle there, girl, you'll set fire to the whole cathedral."
Anna stood, "Look after him, Aubrey. I have an idea." She rushed from the room, her loyal dog following behind.
The small boat rocked with the incoming tide, all but enveloped by the darkness of night.
"Hold the boat steady, Beverly," said Hayley, "or we'll hit the riverbank.
"Easier said than done," she responded. "How are you holding up, Arnim?"
The captain gave another broad stroke of his oar, "I'm keeping up with you if that's what you mean. Remind me again, whose idea this was?"
Hayley was perched at the front of the vessel, "The princess came up with it."
"And you're how comfortable with it?" asked Arnim.
Lily chattered from the back seat, and Hayley, who was the only one the mage had cast tongues on, chuckled. "Lily is ready as soon as we clear the mouth of the river, so we'll have to get our bearings quickly. As soon as the mist rises, we won't be able to see anything."
"Steer straight," complained Arnim.
"I'm trying," said Beverly, "but the current is taking us."
The boat wobbled as it hit some waves and then they saw, off in the distance, the dim light of ships' lanterns.
"Can you see the barges?" asked Beverly.
"Yes," replied Hayley. "Swing the boat a little to the right."
As the vessel turned ever so slightly, Hayley raised her hand. She sliced it down through the air, and then Lily summoned a thick mist that surrounded them, dampening even the sound of water against their hull.
"Keep rowing," said Beverly, though her voice was now little more than a whisper.
They kept rowing while Hayley peered through the gloom. It was a risky gamble, for any alarm on the side of the Kurathian fleet would spell disaster for the tiny group.
"How did we get picked again?" whispered Arnim.
"We're the only ones who know how to swim," replied Beverly, beside him. "Anyway, you've got nothing to complain about, you volunteered."
"Don't remind me," the dour captain replied.
They rowed on in silence.
With the mist enveloping them, it felt as if time stood still, for they could see no landmarks, nor any nearby ships to mark their progress. Soon, however, lanterns began to penetrate the gloom, while voices echoed through the night, though, as yet, no sound of alarm.
Onward they rowed, their arms aching with the strain. A very low groaning noise up ahead alerted them to possible danger, so they stopped rowing, merely drifting forward until the side of one of the barges floated into view. Its deck was flush, the massive catapults doubtless just above them, though from their current viewpoint, none could be seen. The hull towered above them and they held their breath.
Hayley pointed to her left, and the tiny boat turned, making its way toward the front of the barge. She picked up her bow, notching an arrow. Beverly and Arnim stopped rowing and waited, the water slapping against the hull the only sound penetrating the darkness.
Hayley noticed the massive chain fastened to the side of the vessel. It seemed to disappear into the darkness, but the ranger knew better, for the other end was attached to a collar around the great beast which pulled this siege vessel. Peering into the darkness, she waved her hand down low. The Saurian dropped the mist. It clung for only a moment, and then floated away as the prevailing wind pushed it toward shore.
On the deck above they saw the raised platform near the bow of the ship. A man was standing there, his thick woollen coat keeping him warm against the night's chill.
Hayley drew an arrow and waited. Behind her, Arnim did likewise while Beverly took both oar handles. The twang of the bow was nearly silent as an arrow sunk into the man's side. He turned in surprise but before he could raise the alarm, a second arrow flew into his chest. He staggered forward, falling from his raised perch and tumbled to the deck below. Almost instantly, the chain grew taut, followed by a low, deep-throated groan directly in front of them.
"Back up," sang out Hayley, "quickly!"
Arnim fell back into his seat, grabbing the second oar from Beverly. It was difficult to row the boat backward, for they were facing the wrong way, so they rowed in opposite direction
s, turning the tiny vessel in place. As soon as they had done so, they began sinking their backs into it. The mist reappeared, engulfing them in its protective fold, allowing them only to hear what was happening; the sound of water splashing as the great beast thrashed about.
They rowed their way down the length of the barge as voices yelled in alarm above them. Another roar punctured the mist, and then a splintering of wood just before the barge shuddered and violently shifted, pushing against the tiny boat.
They rowed like mad, desperate to escape the clutches of the doomed ship. They cleared the aft section of the barge just in time to see it reach high into the air. Something had split the vessel arching the bow and stern up high as the midships shattered beneath the tremendous weight of the creature. A giant wave threatened to tip their tiny vessel, sending them spinning and then a large dark mass moved past them, just barely below the surface of the water.
Shortly thereafter, a pair of moans echoed across the water.
"Head for the noise," whispered Hayley. "The other barge must be close."
Onward they travelled, still protected by the night and the mist, and when the sounds drew closer, Hayley bid them bear right. The water here was more turbulent, tossing them about unexpectedly. She gave the signal and once again Lily dropped the mist. It drifted slowly away, revealing the long neck of an immense creature only a stone's throw from their position. It struggled against the iron collar which bound it to its burden, while beyond it, the second creature bellowed, somewhere closer into shore.
The sound of chanting came from the deck above. Hayley looked up to see a woman dressed in an exquisitely embroidered gown, waving her hands in the middle of a spell. While the chained creature began to calm Hayley grabbed her bow. The arrow was no sooner knocked than she let it fly. It struck the mage in the shoulder, doing little damage, but the spell was broken. A long neck appeared out of the darkness, the creature plucking the woman from her perch. A scream pierced the night as she was pulled out over the water, and then the second creature used its mouth to grab hold of her flailing legs. There was a sickening noise, like the snapping of a twig as the body was pulled in half.
Heart of the Crown Page 40