Leaves of Flame (39 page)

He suddenly recalled the lancing pain he’d felt as he’d raced from Cobble Kill. He must have been grazed by an arrow.

The thought sent a shudder through his muscles, but he didn’t have time to think about it. Terson suddenly ordered the group forward. Heels dug into his horse’s flanks and he charged down the road toward the town at the back of the group of soldiers. After Curtis’ band broke away, heading into the forest to one side, he counted no more than thirty men remaining, only twenty of them Legionnaires, the rest commoners.

He had a moment for his stomach to roll in apprehension, to notice that the others had already drawn their swords—

And then they were passing the outskirts of the town, cottages and buildings appearing along the sides of the road amongst the trees a moment before the forest gave way completely and they broke into the wide commons.

The flagstones were littered with bodies, but otherwise empty.

Arrows shot into the group instantly, the man next to Jayson crying out as one took him in the shoulder. He spat curses as he wrenched the shaft free without slowing. Through the clamor of the horses’ hooves on the stone, he heard Gregson bellow, “Over here!” and saw a fl ash of movement from the direction of the stable yard.

Terson swung toward the lieutenant, the rest of the men following in a tight, disordered group. Gregson stood at the door to the stable’s barn, two other men holding the doors wide open. They charged through into the straw-scented shadows within, the barn barely holding all of them. Jayson twisted in the saddle as men drew the doors of the barn closed behind them, scanning the people within, searching for Corim. He saw the two merchant men from the trading companies, a woman with two children clutched close to her side, Ara from the tavern, and an assortment of other men and women, maybe seventy townsfolk in all. Someone close was muttering, “This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening,” the litany repeating over and over. Jayson tried to turn his horse but the quarters were too cramped. In frustration, he yelled out, “Corim! Are you here?”

“I’m here!”

Corim thrust through a huddle of women and elderly men to one side, fighting his way to Jayson’s side.

A heaviness around Jayson’s heart eased. “Thank Diermani,” he muttered.

“Report,” Gregson ordered as soon as the barn doors closed.

Terson shoved his way to the front of the barn. Nearly everyone quieted, hushed and panicked voices falling silent to listen.

“I’ve sent Curtis and a small group up to the promontory to deal with the archers. The rest of those who’d managed to gather at the summons are here.”

“You didn’t see any other Alvritshai? No other attackers besides the archers?”

“None.”

Gregson frowned. “There must be another group somewhere nearby. They wouldn’t have archers watching the town otherwise.”

“Perhaps we spooked them by ringing the bell,” Ricks said to one side.

Gregson glanced around at the townsfolk huddled in the stalls and loft of the barn. “If that’s the case, then we’d better get everyone out of here as soon as possible, before the main force arrives.”

This brought frightened murmurs from everyone, the unease of those still on their mounts transferring to the animals as they jostled against each other.

Ara pushed to the front of the group. She carried a scythe in her hand, and Jayson noticed that many of the others had makeshift weapons gathered from the barn. “What about those who sought shelter in the taverns or the other shops? And where do you think we’ll be going? This is our home. I’ll not be leaving without a fight.”

A few of the men grumbled agreement.

“Cobble Kill wasn’t designed to be defended,” Gregson barked,before the murmurs had grown too loud.“Our only real advantage is that no one can approach it easily through the forest. They’ll likely come by the roads, but we can’t hold those with the hundred people here, only twenty of those trained Legion, the rest with scythes and pitchforks! We couldn’t hold them even with the entire town gathered— men, women, and children!” The grumbling quieted.

“We have to flee,”Gregson continued.“There’s no other choice. Terson, we’ll use those mounted to protect the rest of the townsfolk as we leave. I want everyone to gather in the center of the barn, the horses to either side. When we open the doors, the Legion will go out first and then the rest will follow. Take the southern road. Did everyone hear? Take the southern road once we’re out and keep on going! Don’t stop for anything—food, clothing, nothing! Our only chance is to reach Patron’s Merge. Their town is walled and is protected by the rivers.”

At the fear-sickened murmurs that followed and the sudden shifting of bodies as everyone tried to follow directions, punctuated by curses and low sobs, Gregson nodded, then drew Terson, Ricks, and a few of the other Legion to one side. Jayson had been jostled close enough to overhear.

“We need to forewarn the surrounding towns,” the lieutenant muttered.“As soon as we get free of Cobble Kill and hit the crossroads, I want Tirks and Vanson to break off and head toward Ulm’s Kill and Farriver. Warn them and order them to continue spreading the word.”

“What do we tell them?” a blond-haired man said. He couldn’t have been more than twenty.

Gregson frowned at that. “Tell them Gray’s Kill was razed by an unknown group, and that Cobble Kill has been attacked. Tell them dwarren and Alvritshai have been sighted, along with some other creature that we’ve never seen before. Tell them whatever you Diermani-well please, Tirks, but get them to arm themselves! I don’t know if these are bandits or raiders or something worse, but they need to be prepared.”

Tirks didn’t react to Gregson’s gruff tone. Gregson scanned the fidgeting group of townsfolk behind the restless horses, then caught Jayson’s gaze. Jayson’s heart suddenly quieted. Gregson appeared calm and controlled, and he felt some of that calmness seep into him. Even though the Legionnaire’s expression was grim, it was still confident.

Jayson drew in a steadying breath, let it out slowly. He was still trembling, his body tingling and on edge, but he’d regained some of his composure.

He turned to catch Corim’s attention, leaning down over the saddle when his apprentice moved closer.“Stay with the Legion, no matter what happens.”

Corim nodded, his face serious but lined and anxious. Jayson noted he carried a knife, but said nothing.

Everything was changing,moving too fast.A strange energy filled the confines of the barn, the too-sweet scent of straw now overlaid with a stench of fear and the warmth of too many bodies. Jayson wiped sweat from his forehead.

“Ready?” Gregson bellowed.

Jayson spun back to the barn door. The Legion had dispersed, remounted, and were now spread across the front of the group. Four of the townsmen had taken hold of the doors, ready to swing them open. Someone had given up his horse to Gregson. Everyone who had swords had drawn them. Jayson reached around and pulled his free with a grating snick and held it awkwardly as his horse shifted beneath him, snorting and stamping its hoof. He swallowed against the lump that had risen in his throat, tasted the straw dust in the air, the scent of fodder and horseshit.

Then Gregson nodded toward the men at the doors and they shoved them open wide.

Blinding sunlight streamed into the front of the barn, but Jayson kicked his horse forward as the Legion burst through into the yard beyond, fanning out with practiced movements, allowing room for the townsfolk to pass between them. Gregson roared, “Move it! Come on, run, Diermani curse you!” and the people surged forward, one of the children shrieking, another sobbing with his head buried in his mother’s shoulder where she carried him on her hip. All of the men on horseback shouted and urged them forward into the sunlight. Jayson found himself shunted to one side just outside the barn doors, waving his sword high, pointing toward the main street, shouting nonsense to keep everyone moving. He saw Corim pass, the boy’s eyes wide—

And then the arrows started. Shafts spat into the group, four of the townsfolk and three of the riders felled in the space of a heartbeat. Jayson’s heart faltered, his throat locking, as one of the women screamed.

The entire group lurched forward in a wave of panic. He saw someone fall, get trampled underfoot, heard the Legion roaring orders and cursing at the same time as more arrows snicked down from the heights.

Suddenly, Gregson was beside him yelling, “Go, go! There’s no one left in the barn!”

Jayson kneed his horse after the townsfolk, saw them break through the yard onto the street, spreading out on the road, nearly all of them turning sharply to the south, toward the garrison, arrows flying down like black rain. Three men broke away and headed north toward the bridge, one of the men on horseback screaming for them to come back. Two arrows took the rider in the back; he slumped over, his mount panicking and charging forward. One of the three men fell, a shaft jutting up from his leg. His scream sliced through Jayson’s gut like a knife.

“Leave them!” Gregson roared as two of the Legion turned to help them. “Let them go! They made their choice!”

Jayson spun his horse, clenching his jaw as he heeded Gregson’s orders and abandoned the men, urging his mount after the rest of the fl eeing townsfolk. An arrow shot through the space between his face and his horse’s neck, sent a shivering jolt of fear through his legs, but he pushed on, herding everyone toward the main road south, shouting, his sword held out uselessly before him. Gregson was charging back and forth along the rear of the group, still bellowing orders. Two more of the townsfolk fell to the deadly shafts and then a cry rose up on the promontory.

Jayson turned in time to see one of the archers fall from the rock face, the hail of arrows ending as Curtis and the rest of the Legion appeared on the outcropping, the archers turning to fight them. Most of the townsfolk slowed, those on horseback cantering in place as two more archers fell, a cheer rising from the group. Hope flared in Jayson’s chest, burning so hot he tasted it in the back of his throat. He roared, thinking of Lianne, of all of the men and women of Gray’s Kill who had never had a chance. As Curtis and the other four men took out the last of the archers, throwing their bodies over the edge to the forest below, all of the grief and despair that had throttled him since that first night was subsumed by a chaotic, fierce joy strangely mixed with vicious anger. It swelled inside his heart, tasting of bitter revenge and relief.

The relief was short-lived.

Even as the cheer died down and the townsfolk’s fear began to dissipate with shaky laughs, Gregson shouted, “Keep moving! This isn’t over. That was only a scouting party—”

Whatever he would have said next was cut off by a thunderous growl that shuddered across the commons and reverberated off the promontory of rock. Everyone turned in the direction of the northern road, where the two men had fled earlier, along with the horse with its dead rider. The man who had been shot in the leg had crawled to one side of the road and sat hunched near Ara’s tavern door.

“What in Diermani’s name was that?”Ara said from the middle of the townsfolk. Her hand rested on Corim’s shoulder protectively.

Before anyone could answer, the animalistic roar split the silence again, followed by the sharp crack and shush of a tree falling. A few of the people cried out and stepped back. The horses snorted and shied away as more branches snapped, something large moving through the forest along the northern road. Gregson trotted his horse across Jayson’s field of vision, pacing before everyone gathered in the roadway, his brow creased in a tight frown.

Beyond him, the tops of the trees began to sway with movement, even though there was no breeze. Insanely, Jay-son heard Gregson’s voice from earlier in the barn saying,
Our only real advantage is that no one can easily approach through the forest.
 

Another splintering crack followed and one of the swaying trees fell, everyone moving back another pace, even those on horseback.

Then, through the crackle of trodden branches and breaking limbs, Jayson heard a soft chittering noise and a chill tingled through his arms and legs, prickling in his fingers.

“It’s them,” he whispered, his mouth suddenly dry. “It’s the creatures.”

Gregson shot him a sharp look.

Behind him, the massive trees over the stream suddenly shuddered and parted, a monstrous gray shape trailing broken branches and bracken appearing. Its body was huge, twice the size of a man, two gigantic arms hanging at its sides. It paused at the edge of the creek, yellowed eyes scanning the town,its stony head swiveling on a thick neck.The creature snuffled the air, the nostrils in its craggy face crinkling, and then its eyes latched onto Gregson and the group of petrified townsfolk.

It sucked in a huge breath and bellowed, the sound splintering the shocked silence. More than one person screamed, the sounds melding into a strange war cry, and as the thunderous sounds broke, the catlike creatures with the pallid, empty eyes Jayson had fought while fl eeing Gray’s Kill spilled from the undergrowth around the monster’s feet and scampered across the bridge. Even as Jayson choked on his own breath, men on horseback appeared on the roadway, the riders dressed in black-and-silver armor, dozens of them emerging from the shadows of the trees around the twist in the road.

Not men,
Jayson thought, ice-cold fear settling in the pit of his stomach as the mounted riders drew closer.
Alvritshai.
 

Even as one of the Alvritshai at the forefront of the attackers raised a black horn to his lips and blew, a single, clear note piercing the town, the smaller creatures surged forward, the still spring air filled with their hissing.They fell on the man cringing against the tavern in an instant, his screams jarring Jayson from his paralysis. He spun, eyes seeking out Corim automatically. Pointing to the southern road with his sword, he yelled, “Run! Go, now!” the words so loud and forceful something in his throat tore.

Corim moved before anyone else, turning to sprint toward the southern road, clutching at Ara and dragging the tavern woman along with him. The tableau broke, people screaming, pointing, lurching forward as the smaller creatures streamed toward them from the far side of the commons, moving faster than Jayson remembered from that night, bodies sleek, like liquid in motion, brown-black in the sunlight, ears flattened against their knobby skulls. Gregson managed to bellow,“Legion,to me! Protect the flanks!” before the first leaped to latch onto his leg. He cried out, his horse rearing and screaming, his sword swinging as three more joined the first, the things crawling up the horse’s side. The Legion members charged forward with fierce cries, and Jayson saw blades flash in the sunlight, blood flying as they cut into the creatures.The massive stone giant,at least twice as tall as Jayson, roared again and thrust itself from the tangle of the trees, its entire body a solid mass of hairless gray-brown flesh. It staggered across the stream, water sparkling in the light, a branch the size of Jayson’s thigh in one hand. It swung it like a club as it reached the first Legion riders, knocking one clear of his mount and fl inging him across the commons.