'Byren told me,' Piro whispered. 'I'm so sorry.'
'I can grieve later. Right now I must avenge them.'
Piro couldn't bear to think of anything happening to her family.
A fire broke out, sending sparks showering up through one of the stronghold's slate roofs.
'The armoury,' Unace whispered.
Eventually the stars faded and the world took on grey form as dawn crept across the hillside. By the time the sun had come up, the fire was under control and only a smudge of dirty grey smoke hung over the Stronghold in the still morning air.
Unace stood up, returning her son to his cradle and stretching. 'Better get ready, Pi — Depiro. I plan to ride right up to the gates and demand entry.'
Piro nodded. She had listened to them debate all possible alternatives last night and it seemed the night's uprising would not change their plans. Flanked by her best fighters, decked in their finest, Lady Unace would approach the town. She hoped the townspeople would open the gate and take their chances.
If Unace and her people got that far, they would march right up to the Stronghold gates, backed by their most experienced warriors. If the usurper Steerden had not been overthrown last night, he might just be tempted to make a sally, hoping to wipe her out for good. This would entice him out of the Stronghold, which made him vulnerable.
Even if Steerden didn't venture out, someone inside the Stronghold might be convinced that the gods favoured her. They just might open the gates. If Unace and her supporters got inside, after the night's fighting Steerden's defenders might have been weakened enough for them to retake the Stronghold.
There were a lot of 'mights,' but it was their best chance. Who knew, perhaps Unace's people had already retaken the stronghold. It was hard to tell with the spar's emblem flying undisturbed.
Unace kissed her sleeping son, all bundled in his woolen blankets, and looked over at Piro. 'Ready?'
For today's assault Unace wore the green cloak again, but this time she wore chain mail and carried her weapons.
'Ready,' Piro agreed, mouth dry, heart racing.
'Remember, if the fighting starts, don't stay by me, run and hide,' Unace warned. She held Piro's eyes. 'Promise me this, if I am killed run back here, rescue my son and take him to Rolencia. He can grow up as a stable hand in your castle. As long as he has a chance to grow up!'
Emotion closed Piro's throat. She could only nod.
It was enough for Unace, who put her hand on Piro's shoulder. 'Thank you. I am lucky to have met you and your brother.'
Piro managed to swallow.
Seagrass returned. 'We are ready, Unace.'
Piro walked the unistag out of the snow-cave into the crisp first light. It was a clear morning, so sharp and bright the air was cold enough to make her chest ache. She glanced up at Unace, who had taken her position on the unistag's back. It was hard to believe that this woman, who only moments before had been breastfeeding her infant son, could soon be dead. Everything was so sharp, so beautiful.
Is this what Byren and Lence experienced every time they led a raiding party, this amazing clarity of perception?
Then suddenly they were moving, with Piro trotting along beside the healer. Apart from Seagrass and Unace, no one knew who she was, or cared. Back in Rolencia there would have been explanations if a goatherd turned up in the royal party, but here, with the chaos of the camp and the excitement, she was overlooked.
Unace's people cheered as they passed. Piro thought the spar warriors looked very fine. Not as good as her father's honour guard, when they turned out for a special event, but good in a more ferocious way. She could sense their common purpose. The intensity of their feelings called to her Affinity.
She glanced quickly to Seagrass. If he had noticed anything he did not reveal it.
Down the steep zigzag path they strode. Someone had crept out early and shovelled the snow. Uneven cobbles filled the gaps between exposed rocks, that was about all there was in the way of a road. The lower they marched, the higher and more imposing the Stronghold and its fortified town appeared.
As they rounded the second-to-last bend, Piro caught a glimpse of a bridge over a frozen stream. The bridge was only wide enough for a cart, but sturdy. The spring melt would make the stream a raging torrent.
The bridge was lost to sight as they made the last turn. Then they faced it and the entrance to the town's gate. Piro heard Unace's unconscious sigh of relief, for the people had seen their old warlord's daughter approaching and made up their minds.
The gates were open.
Anxious but hopeful faces lined the streets.
The unistag gave a nervous snort. Piro soothed it with a touch and they crossed the bridge. There was no cheering.
One voice called, 'Welcome home, Lady Unace.'
'Welcome me after I've rid my stronghold of vermin!'
There was laughter and several cheers. The healer began to sing and Piro joined him in the unistag song of praise again. Soon a full choir of voices carried the tune as they wove up the steep main road to the Stronghold gates.
Piro craned her head up and, in a gap between the teetering second storeys of houses, she saw the tall stone battlements of the stronghold. It still did not compare to Rolenhold — too many wooden protrusions — but it was an amazing sight. Several heads watched them from the crenellations, but there was no way to tell if they were Steerden's supporters.
'Can you tell if the stronghold had been retaken?' Piro asked.
'What news from the stronghold?' Unace called to the crowd as they rode by.
A man ran up to walk at her side. 'No news, Warlord Unace. There was shouting and fighting last night. But none of us dared approach.'
Piro didn't blame him as he fell back.
'Not far now,' Unace muttered. 'We'll know soon enough.'
Piro licked dry lips.
They rounded the bend to see the stronghold's portcullis being raised. The ropes creaked on the winches. A dark tunnel no deeper than a cart's length stretched before them, ideal for pouring hot oil and flaming torches on an enemy. And beyond that was the first courtyard, the killing ground. If this place was anything like Rolenhold it would have numerous slits in the buildings for archers to fire down on the invaders. But a clever invader could form a tortoise by wedging their shields together and proceed under cover.
At the sight of the opening portcullis, a cheer broke from the ranks of their supporters.
Piro's heart lifted.
'Let's go,' Unace urged, but the unistag balked.
Piro touched his muzzle, letting him sense the build-up of her Affinity, yet holding back so that he would follow her. Seagrass caught her eye, giving a small nod of approval.
Entering the dark tunnel made Piro shiver. She fixed on the paved courtyard, swept free of snow. They were so close to victory. Byren's ploy had worked. She was proud of him and proud to be here with Lady Unace.
The courtyard was empty.
Unace urged the unistag into the centre, twisting from the waist to look around.
'Where is everyone?' she muttered, then raised her voice. 'I'm Lady Unace, daughter of warlord Uniden and I claim this castle in my own right!'
Her people cheered.
Still no one appeared.
'Open the doors to the great hall so we may celebrate!' Unace swung her leg over the unistag's back and dropped to the ground lightly. She strode towards some steps.
'No!' Seagrass leapt forwards, shoving Unace in the back so that she sprawled on her hands and knees on the bottom step.
The arrow caught the healer in the hump. A murmur of horror and cries of protest filled the courtyard.
'Seagrass?' Unace scrambled to him as he collapsed, gathering him in her arms.
