For a moment there seemed to be a balance, as the outnumbered defenders held the attackers at bay, while Tal moved among the raiders like death incarnate, killing with bloody efficiency. His opponents would see him for a moment, then he would vanish behind a rearing horse only to be seen a moment later leaping over the body of a fallen comrade.
But the enemy began to organize themselves, and soon the Orodon and mercenary ambush was repulsed. Tal shouted, “Keep attacking!” in the Orodon language, then repeated the command in the Common Tongue.
Horses were running through the smoke, between the buildings, and back out of the gate, and the conflict began to resolve itself. Tal found himself suddenly surrounded by six men, and at that moment he felt fated to die.
Then the man directly in front of him was struck by an arrow through the neck, and the one beside him went wide-eyed as he was struck from behind by John Creed’s blade. Tal spun and slashed out with all his strength, taking a man’s head completely off his shoulders, then carrying the blow through to strike the shoulder of the man next to him.
Then the dozen riders at the rear of the village attacked.
Raiders turned to see horsemen emerging from the smoke, shouting and bearing down on them, and a number of the enemy turned to run. More followed, and suddenly it was a rout.
Those raiders who could mounted horses and sped back across the clearing toward the trees, while others fled on foot. Many were slain by the archers who had stayed up on the wall despite the dangerous proximity of the burning gate and the choking smoke.
Tal shouted, “Hold!’’
The Orodon and mercenary riders reined in, and Tal cried, “We don’t want to get scattered out there in the dark! We could lose everything we’ve won.’’
The Orodon began to cheer. Then people started to deal with the fires, fetching water from the village well and attacking smaller fires with blankets or kicking earth onto them.
For a full minute the people celebrated with backslapping, congratulations, and a great sense of triumph, although soon chance-fallen comrades would be discovered in other parts of the village, or beneath the wall. Tal was about to tell the men to search for wounded and the dead who might be out of sight when a shout came from the wall above. “They’ve stopped!’’
Tal hurried to the gate, which was now a smoking pile of embers on either side of a gap in the wall, and looked into the distance. The fire behind him had blinded him to the night, so it took a full minute for his vision to adjust so that he could properly see what was taking place across the clearing.
Raven was rallying his forces!
Tal could not afford to hesitate. “Everyone fights!” he shouted. “They’re coming back.” To the few remaining bowmen, he shouted, “Up on the walls! Pick your targets carefully.” Placing his left hand on Jasquenel’s shoulder, he said, “Tell the older children to get the little ones out into the woods now, but the women stay and fight if they’re able.’’
Creed said, “Your eyes are better than mine. All I see is some movement.”
The fire behind them illuminated half the distance between the gate and the edge of the clearing, and most of the men near Tal could see only a confused blur. “They’re coming,” he observed. “Most are on foot, but I think he’s got a dozen horse moving out there somewhere.” Then he yelled, “We stand here!’’
“Well, I always prefer a stand-up fight to a running battle or a siege,” Creed said. Lowering his voice, he asked, “How many?’’
“More than us,” Tal replied.
“Well, wouldn’t be the first time.’’
Tal hurried to what was left of the gate, blinking away tears from the acrid smoke, and stared into the gloom once more.
As shapes began to loom up out of the darkness, Tal saw that Raven had bullied his men back into some semblance of order. They advanced in three lines, about twenty men abreast, with the first rank holding shields in front of them. The second rank had every pole arm weapon they possessed—halberds to pull riders from horses, spears; even two lances had been pressed into service. The third line was composed of archers.
To the men on the wall, Tal shouted: “Ignore the men in front. Kill their archers if you can!’’
Creed squinted. “He’s ready for the cavalry to charge.’’
Tal nodded. “Too bad we can’t oblige him. He doesn’t know our cavalry consisted of a dozen men who are now standing here.’’
Two dozen children, the oldest carrying the very youngest, ran past, darting to the left at the gate, hugging the wall, and heading south into the woods.
The women came out, many bearing weapons which had once belonged to Raven’s men. Tal directed them into the buildings on the right and left, telling them to fall on the attackers from behind once the archers came into the stockade.