seasoned warriors, and we need not keep to the wide coast road. The only thing that did not favor us was the weather. By midmorning of our first day out, a winter storm swept in. It was miserable riding, not just for the physical discomfort but in the unsettling knowledge that the driving winds would slow our companion ships. Whenever our path took us overlooking the water, I watched for sails, but never saw any.
The pace Foxglove set was demanding but not destructive to horse or rider. While stops were not frequent, she varied the pace and saw that no animal wanted for water. At such stops, there was grain for the horses and hard bread and dried fish for their riders. If anyone ever noticed a wolf shadowing us, no one spoke of it. Two full days later, as dawn and a gap in the weather found us, we were looking out over the wide river valley that opened onto Neatbay.
Bayguard was the Keep of Neatbay. And Bayguard was the home Keep of Duke Kelvar and Lady Grace, the heart of Rippon Duchy. The watchtower was on a sandy cliff above the town. The Keep itself had been built on fairly level land, but fortified with a series of earthen walls and ditches. Once I had been told that no enemy had ever made it past the second wall. It was no longer true. We halted and looked out over the destruction.
The five Red-Ships were still drawn up on the beach. The boats of Neatbay, mostly small fishing vessels, were a burned and scuttled wreckage spread along the beach. The tides had played with them since the Raiders had destroyed them. Blackened buildings and smoldering wreckage fanned out from where they had landed, marking their path like a spreading contagion. Foxglove stood in her stirrups and pointed out over Neatbay, combining her observations with what she knew of the town and Keep. 'It's a shallow, sandy bay, all the way out. So when the tide goes out, it goes way out. They've drawn their boats up too high. If we can force them to retreat, we want to do it on a low tide, when their ships are sitting high and dry. They've cut through the town like a hot knife through butter: I doubt there was much of an effort to defend it, it's not really defensible. Probably everyone headed for the Keep at the first sight of a red keel. It looks to me like the Outislanders have battered their way in past the third circle. But Kelvar should be able to hold them off almost indefinitely now. The fourth wall is worked stone. It took years to build. Bayguard has a good well, and her warehouses should still be fat with grain, this early in winter. She won't fall unless she falls to treachery.' Foxglove stopped gesturing and settled in her saddle again. 'It makes no sense, this attack,' she said more softly. 'How can the Red-Ships expect to sustain a long siege? Especially if they are, in turn, attacked by our forces?'
'The answer could be that they did not expect anyone to come to Bayguard's aid,' Kettricken said succinctly. 'They have the town to pillage for supplies, and perhaps other ships are expected.' She turned to Kerf, motioned him alongside Foxglove. 'I have no battle experience,' she said simply. 'You two will have to plan this. I listen now, as a soldier. What should we do next?'
I saw Burrich wince. Such honesty is admirable, but not always good leadership. I saw Foxglove and Kerf exchange measuring glances. 'My queen, Kerf has more battle experience than I. I would accept his command,' Foxglove offered quietly.
Kerf looked down, as if mildly ashamed. 'Burrich was Chivalry's man. He has seen far more battles than I have,' he observed to his mare's neck. He looked up suddenly. 'I commend him to you, my queen.'
Burrich's face was a struggle of conflicting emotions. For a moment his eyes lit. Then I saw a hesitation build.
Heart of the Pack, they will hunt well for you, Nighteyes urged him.
'Burrich, take command. They will fight with heart for you.'
My skin prickled to hear Queen Kettricken virtually echo Nighteyes' thought. From where I sat, I could actually see a shiver run over Burrich. He straightened in his saddle. 'We have no hope of surprising them in this flat country. And the three circles they have already gained can become defenses for them. We are not a vast force. What we have most of, my queen, is time. We can pen them. They have no access to fresh water. If Bayguard stands, and we keep the Outislanders trapped where they are, between the third earthwork and the wall, we can simply wait for our ships to arrive. At that time we can judge if we wish to join an attack on them, or simply starve them out.'
'This seems wise to me,' the Queen approved.
'They are fools if they have not left at least a small force with their ships. Those we will have to contend with immediately. Then we must set our own guards to the ships, with orders to destroy them if it looks like any of the Outislanders have gotten past us and are trying to escape. If not, you will have ships to add to King-in-Waiting Verity's fleet.'
'This, too, seems sensible.' The idea clearly pleased Kettricken.
'It is tidy, but only if we act swiftly. They will soon be aware of us, if they are not already. Certainly they will see the situation as clearly as we have. We need to get down there, and contain those besieging the Keep and destroy those guarding the ships.'
Kerf and Foxglove were both nodding. Burrich looked at them. 'I want your archers for our circle around the Keep. We want to contain them there, not get into any close fighting. Simply pin them down where they are. Wherever they breached the walls is where they will try to trickle out again. Guard most heavily there, but watch all along the outer wall. And for now, do not try to go within the outer wall at all. Let them scuttle about like crabs in a pot.'
Terse nods from both captains. Burrich continued.
'I want swords for the ships. Expect the fighting to be nasty. They'll be defending their only escape routes. Send a few lesser archers, and have them prepare fire arrows. If all else fails, burn the ships where they're beached. But try to take them first.'
'The Rurisk!' Someone in the back ranks gave a cry. All heads turned to the water. There was the Rurisk, rounding the north tooth of Neatbay. In a moment a second sail appeared. Behind us, the mounted warriors raised a shout. But out beyond our ships, anchored in deep water, white as a dead man's belly and her sails as bloated, floated the white ship. The moment I saw it, an icicle of terror sliced my guts.
'The white ship!' I choked. Fear sent a shudder through me that was almost like pain.
'What?' Burrich asked, startled. It was the first word he had spoken to me that day.
'The white ship!' I repeated, and pointed a hand.
'What? Where? That? That's a fog bank. Our ships are coming into the harbor over there.'
I looked. He was right. A fog bank, melting in the morning sun even as I watched. My terror receded like the ghost of mocking laughter. But the day seemed suddenly chillier, and the sun that had briefly parted the storm clouds a weak and watery thing. An evil cast lingered on the day, like a bad smell.
'Split your forces and deploy them now,' Burrich said quietly. 'We don't want our ships to meet any resistance as they come into shore. Quickly, now. Fitz. You're to go with the force that attacks the Red-Ships. Be there when the Rurisk beaches, and let those on board know what we've decided. As quickly as those Red-Ships are cleaned out, we shall want all fighters to join us in containing the Outislanders. I wish there was a way to get word to Duke Kelvar of what we're doing. I suppose he'll see, soon enough. Well, let's get going.'
There was some milling about, some conferring between Kerf and Foxglove, but in a surprisingly short time I found myself riding behind Foxglove with a contingent of warriors. I had my sword, but what I really missed was the ax I had become so comfortable with over the summer.
Nothing was as tidy as was planned. We encountered Outislanders in the wreckage of the town, long before we reached the beach. They were moving back toward their ships and were hampered with a coffle of prisoners. We attacked the Raiders. Some stood and fought, and some abandoned their prisoners and ran before our horses. Our troops were soon scattered throughout the still-smoldering buildings and debris scattered streets of Neatbay. Some of our force stayed to cut the ropes on the prisoners and help them as best they could. Foxglove swore at the delay, for the Raiders that had fled would warn the ship guards. Swiftly she split our force, leaving a handful of soldiers to help the battered townsfolk. The smells of dead bodies and rain on charred timbers brought back my memories of Forge with a vividness that almost unmanned me. There were bodies everywhere, far more than we had expected to find. Somewhere I sensed a wolf prowling through the ruins, and took comfort from him.
Foxglove cursed us all with surprising skill, and then organized those she kept with her into a wedge. We swept down on the Red-Ships in time to see one being launched into the retreating tide. There was little we could do about that, but we were in time to prevent a second ship from getting off. We killed those ones with surprising alacrity. There were not many, only a skeleton rowing crew. We even managed to kill them before they could slay most of their captives who lay bound on the thwarts of the ships. We suspected that the ship that got off had been similarly laden. And hence, I surmised to myself, not initially planning to engage the Rurisk or any of the ships that
