The Protectors war

Then, in a high clear shout: "Take them!"

Hanging back was the hardest thing she had ever forced herself to do, but she was no more than a middling hand with a sword, and this was far too dangerous for bows. All she could do would be get in the way of those who might save her son. Liu's hand moved, and a stream struck Rudi's neck and the side of his face; he cried out and twisted in the man's hands. Liu shot again, quick as a striking snake, and droplets of the same heavy, oily liquid landed on her face; it had a nasty chemical stink, and the drops itched and burned: and the night did not darken, and her chest continued to pump in hard quick breaths. Then he screamed a curse and used the heavy glass-and-metal pistol to club Rudi down; the boy went to the ground, writhing.

"A Loring! A Loring!" Nigel shouted as he went forward with darting speed.

Not quite in time, for Mack's first stroke was straight down at Rudi's young body. A desperate leap put Nigel's shield above the boy, but the four-foot blade of the greatsword cut three-quarters of the way through the tough laminate of wood and metal, and broke the arm below it. Mack's steel-splinted boot stamped on the blade of the Englishman's sword and snapped it across, and the next blow sent his sallet helm spi

The Mackenzies were throwing themselves desperately at the ring of swords now, shrieking and sheerly mad, but many hadn't had time to don their brigandines, and the knights were sheathed in mail and splints of hard metal from ankle to head, armored cap-a-pie. Arminger's men stood shield-to-shield and cast back their rush. Rowan led the next, making for the Marchwarden's giant bodyguard, his long ax spi

Crack. The greatsword struck the tough ashwood and broke it in half. The head flipped up into its master's face and laid it open to the bone; he staggered, blinded by his own blood, blinking it clear just in time to see the second stroke that took him between neck and shoulder.

"Father!" Alleyne Loring cried.

"No! Mine!" a deep bass voice bellowed, and John Hordle's bastard sword hammered its way past a shield and sent a man reeling, then turned the stroke of Mack's blade with a grunt of effort, a harsh clangor in the night and a stream of sparks. Alleyne tried to use the moment to take the troll-man from behind, but Katrina Georges was suddenly between them, a sword in one hand, a long knife in the other. The circle of shields was breaking up into combats that raged through the flame-shot darkness, two against one, a pair against three.

Eilir was there too, light glittering from eyes gone huge in a face bone-white pale, shining ruddy-bright on teeth bared in a silent gape as she turned the stroke of Liu's bao on her buckler and struck, struck:

Juniper ignored all of it. Instead she saw her moment and darted in, dragging her son free of the melee. His face was a mask of blood, but it was the wound under his short ribs that pulsed red, where the tip of the greatsword had passed after it punched through Nigel's shield. She staunched it with her hands, leaning to put pressure on it.

"Healer!" she shouted. "A healer here! Now!"

Her eyes swiveled, through chaos and death. Glimpses struck her vision and slid from the focus of her mind: Mack sinking to his knees, with Alleyne's sword and a spear through his gut, and Little John Hordle's sword sweeping through a horizontal arc towards his neck; Eddie Liu shrieking as Eilir's short sword punched up under the skirt of his mail and sank home; the lance points of Bear-killer A-listers flickering as they rode into the circle of firelight.

Suddenly Kevin of the Rangers threw himself on his knees beside her. "Let me see: Oh, sweet Goddess, there's too much blood lost-"

He shouted, and the sound carried; battle was dying down, save for someone who shrieked for his mother in a long gurgle that cut off sharply. "I need a donor here! Emergency!"

Shadows fell across them. Juniper looked up, with her son's lifeblood on her hands. Mike Havel stood there, blood on his sword and his face twisted with raging grief; Astrid, supporting Alleyne Loring as he slumped with both hands clapped to a wounded face. And Signe Havel, calm as she stripped the vambrace of her right forearm and pushed the mail sleeve of her hauberk back, lying down beside the wounded boy.

"I'm type O," she said. "Universal donor. As much as he needs, Juney. As much as he needs."

Mathilda Arminger had to call her name several times before Juniper Mackenzie heard the words. The cold light of dawn made the tumbled filth of the battlefield bleaker and more lost; somewhere a raven croaked, and tatters of mist lay along the ground. She could taste something old and dead in her mouth as she leaned back against the wagon wheel, but it was too distant to make her move her hand towards the water bottle someone had put there.

I should sleep. Fear and grief and raw magic have hollowed me, and I should sleep.

"Lady Juniper?"

Juniper looked up; tears made ru

"Will Rudi be OK? Please, can't you, I don't know, make magic about it?"

"I have, girl. I don't know if he'll be all right. He's lost a very great deal of blood, and they're doing what they can. He may get well."

"I'm so sorry. It's because of me."

I should tell her it isn't but I'm too tired, the Chief of the Mackenzies thought.

"It's because I lent Rudi the book," Mathilda sobbed. "I lent him the book and Baron Liu went to get it. Katrina didn't want him to but he wouldn't leave without the book!"

That pierced the gray chill that swaddled her mind. "Your book, child?"

A shaking hand held a blue-tinted paperback. "I got it out of Baron Liu's belt pouch after he: when I could. It's not my copy. Kat said she got it at Castle Gervais, and the baron got so angry, and he went for it-"

Memory stabbed her. Eddie Liu's face in that room at Sutterdown: Goddess gentle and strong, was it only yesterday?

"Altendorf substitution codes," she whispered, looking northward-to where Arminger brewed his plots.

She rose. Eilir was close, and she looked up sharply, a tentative wisp of smile curling her lips at the sight of her mother moving.

Get me Mike Havel, she signed. Now, girl! Run!

To herself: The Protector wants war. He'll have it, and not only with the Mackenzies: but we'll need more than talk to do it. When his plans are laid bare: but we'll have to do it at the right time and place. A meeting of all the communities, yes, but not at Larsdalen or Dun Juniper or Mt. Angel. It will have to be a blow to the heart-the heart of the Valley. A meeting at Corvallis.

"Goddess of the raven wings," she whispered, gathering herself. "Strong avenger, give me Your strength."