“Any tactical suggestions?” Samar asked, seating a helmet on his head.
“Kill them.”
Smiling grimly, Samar raised his sword and shouted, “Elves! By section, charge!”
It was hard for the goblins to gather much momentum while marching uphill, but the downhill slope gave the elves extra impetus. The sight of the Silvanesti hurtling toward them caused the front ranks of goblins to miss a step, despite the whips driving them onward.
The two forces collided. The elves beat aside the goblins’ pikes so they passed harmlessly overhead. The first two ranks of goblins fell beneath the weight of the horses. Kerian stood in her stirrups and laid about on both sides. The result was simple slaughter. The goblins’ shields were slung on their backs, in marching order. Without protection, the creatures were defenseless once their pikes were deflected.
Despite the redoubled efforts of the sergeants and their whips, the rear ranks backed away. Goblins along the edges of the formation were shoved off balance and went tumbling down the hill, smashing into stones and tree trunks. The entire first company broke, retreating into the ranks of the second.
Samar gave the command to withdraw. Bloody but intact, the elves rode back to where they had started.
Wiping sweat from her eyes, despite the unnatural chill around the lake, Kerian saw a flock of dark birds take flight from trees higher up the hillside. They were carrion birds, the kind that collected at every battlefield, but something had frightened them into flight.
“Ambush!” she cried.
Her warning came a fatal second too late. A swarm of arrows plunged down among the guards. Some found their marks, and elves fell. The remaining guards scattered, with some trying to ride up the hillside at the concealed archers.
Their mounts met with no more success than had the cart horses. A second volley whistled down, and many of the riders struggling up the slope dropped from their saddles.
Something bumped Kerian’s horse, and she heard a gasp. Samar swayed in the saddle, an arrow lodged under his left arm. He’d thrown himself in front of her and taken a missile that would have hit her. He slumped over and she yelled at him to hang on. At her command, Hytanthas grabbed the reins of Samar’s horse and led the wounded elf away.
Surrounded by dead and wounded, Kerian turned her back on the bandit army. She lifted her buckler aloft to ward off plunging arrows and shouted, “Elves of Bianost, rally to me! Fight for yourselves! Fight for your people!”
In twos and threes, volunteers crawled out from under the remaining wagons. They were terrified, faces pale as snow, but Kerian was proud of them. They were none of them warriors, yet they came.
“Yes! Well done!” she cried. “We won’t let them sting us like this! Rally to me! Let’s flush out those hornets!”
Theryontas and a dozen elves armed with a mixture of weapons formed up behind her. Another volley of arrows rained down. Heeding the Lioness’s warning, shields came up and the elves warded off the arrows_-all but one. One elf found the thrum of missiles in flight too much for his curiosity. He peered over the rim of his shield and took a shaft in the face.
“Keep your shields up!” Kerian dismounted and ran to the uphill side of the road. “Stay together! Let’s go!”
With the remaining guards holding off the scattered goblins, Kerian led her small band up the slope toward the hidden archers. More elves were cowering behind boulders and bushes. The Lioness told them to follow. By the time she reached the thin line of trees along Birch Trail, Kerian had close to sixty followers. A few were armed with bows. She set them to sniping at the archers half hidden down the trail.
While the groups traded arrows, she led a band of twenty higher up the hillside under cover of boulders, broken masonry, and twisted trees. At the first level spot, she directed them to crouch and follow her as she worked her way toward the bandit archers.
Unfortunately, one member of her band was too eager. Impatient with the Lioness’s careful approach, Theryontas went rushing down the slope. He’d taken no more than three steps before an archer put a black-fletched arrow in his chest. The two elves who followed him also were struck down. Kerian gave the order, and the Bianost elves attacked the archers-seventeen humans in dark red brigandines. Most of the humans were still sniping at the elves below and didn’t react in time. They quickly fell to the furious elves.
The enraged town elves would have killed every one, but Kerian halted them. She wanted to question the two remaining archers.
One, with a heavy dark beard, had a slash on his neck and could not speak. The other, a clean-shaven, teenaged boy, was so terrified Kerian had to ask his name twice before he stammered out the answer. He was Wycul, part of the Frenost Free Company, a mercenary band loosely affiliated with Gathan Grayden’s host. The main body of the army had marched to Mereklar after receiving reports of uprisings in that town. The Free Company and the goblin infantry had been ordered to follow the outlaw elves wherever they went. The goblins weren’t happy about entering the environs of the Lake of Death. There were things there that
A horn blared from below. Several of Alhana’s guards were waving to catch Kerian’s attention. She ordered her little company back down to Silveran’s Way. They helped themselves to the dead men’s weapons. Bearing the bodies of Theryontas and their other fallen, and with Wycul supporting his wounded comrade, they descended.
With the defeat of the archer trap, the goblin infantry had fallen back out of sight, leaving the ruined road strewn with dead. Horses trotted back and forth, looking for their fallen riders.
Two of Alhana’s royal guard met Kerian at the edge of the road. “Lady! A catastrophe!” exclaimed one. “Our royal mistress-!”
Fearing the worst, Kerian was already, sprinting for the trees. She left the two human captives with the riders.
Alhana was not dead. She lay unconscious on the ground, her head cradled in Chathendor’s lap. They were surrounded by anxious elves, but the rise and fall of Alhana’s chest brought a relief so strong Kerian’s knees felt weak. Samar lay unconscious beside Alhana. The wound under his left arm was tightly bound. He’d lost much blood, and his face was waxen, but he breathed. Kerian could see no visible wound on Alhana.
“What happened?” she demanded.
Chathendor said, “An arrow struck her horse. It bolted and she was thrown.”
Carefully, Kerian touched the back of Alhana’s neck. She thanked the gods Alhana’s neck wasn’t broken, but when her questing fingers found a wet spot above and behind her left ear, Kerian grimaced. A heavy blow could cause bleeding inside the skull, resulting in slow death. Alhana couldn’t be moved for fear of worsening her condition Yet the elves were in a terribly exposed position, athwart the road, with active mercenary bands at their heels.
With Alhana and Samar down, and Theryontas dead, the Bianost elves looked to the Lioness for leadership. She acted quickly.
“Everyone will ascend to Birch Trail. The rest of the carts and wagons will be left here, their loads divided and carried up the hill. Scavenge wood from the empty wagons to make litters for the wounded.”
Elves hurried to carry out her orders. Chathendor’s tear- filled eyes lifted from his mistress’s still face. “What do we do, lady?” he whispered to Kerian. “Will she live?”
“She will. I won’t allow her to die.”
Porthios approached. For once, Kerian was extremely glad to see him.
He commanded the royal guards to block’ the road, to protect Alhana, who must remain where she was. His voice and bearing were such that the warriors obeyed without demur.
He had less success with Chathendor. The old chamberlain would not be sent away with the wounded.
“I do not leave my lady,” he said flatly, and Porthios was forced to acquiesce. It was that or have the old elf lifted bodily.
The unconscious Samar was borne away, and Kerian prepared to go as well, knowing she could be of no use here. Before she departed, she cast one last worried glance at Alhana and said quietly to Porthios, “You’re a healer? It will take one of uncommon skill to save her.”
“I healed myself when I was nothing but blood and shattered bones. I will heal her too.”
