Tavi ran away from the swordsman and down the length of the stables, toward the center of the fort and the far gate. Surely there would be someone there who wasn’t already hips-deep in Marat by now, or a safe building that he could hide in.
Tavi reached the end of the stables at the same time a bulky figure, dressed in a half-buckled breastplate and a helmet that hung down over his eyes, plunged out of the doors of the stables, shouting, “I’m coming, I’m coming!”
Tavi slammed into the young man, and both went to the ground. The man’s shield tumbled away wildly, though he managed to keep a grip on the well-worn handle of a spade. The man pushed his helmet back, then gripped the spade in both hands, raising it.
Tavi shielded his head with his arms. “Frederic!” he shouted. “Fred, it’s me!”
Frederic lowered the spade and stared. “Tavi? You’re alive?”
“Not for long!” he panted, struggling to his feet. “They’re trying to kill me, Fred!”
Frederic blinked. His helmet fell over his eyes.
Tavi reached up to push it away, and saw the next Knight Aeris swooping down at him as he did. He reached into his pocket for more salt, but in his haste he had turned the pocket inside out, when he had drawn out salt before. It had all fallen out as he ran.
“Tavi,” Fred said. “The Steadholder says I’m not to take that helmet off —”
“Look out!” Tavi said, and bulled into his friend, overbalancing the larger boy and taking him down. The Knight flashed past, his sword reaching down, and Tavi felt a sudden, hot sting on one arm.
Frederic blinked at Tavi and at the Knight flying on past, circling around again. “Tavi,” he said, stunned, looking at the boy’s arm. “He cut you.” Fred looked up at Tavi, eyes widening. “They’re trying to kill you!”
“I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re here to tell me that,” Tavi said, wincing at the sudden flash of pain. Blood had stained his shirt, but he could move his arm. “It isn’t bad. Help me up.”
Frederic did, his face showing his fear and confusion. “Who are they?”
“I don’t know,” Tavi said. “But he’s coming again!”
Tavi turned to duck into the building—only to see, at the far end of the stables, the unmistakable outline of the swordsman against the doors on the far side, blade in hand.
“Can’t get out that way,” Tavi breathed. He looked back around behind him. The Knight Aeris had been joined by one of his companions, and they had lined up for another charge. “Fred, we need Thumper.”
“What? But Thumper doesn’t know how to fight!”
“Salt, Fred. We need salt to throw at those windcrafters, a lot of it!”
“But—”
“Hurry, Fred!”
The Knights Aeris hurtled toward them in a screaming torrent of wind.
Tavi gripped at his knife and looked around wildly, but there was no place to run.
Frederic stepped forward, in front of Tavi, his spade gripped in both hands. He let out a yell that grew into a deep-throated roar and drew back the spade. When he brought it around again, it came straight over his head and down in a great swooshing arc that met the leading Knight just before his sword could reach Tavi’s friend.
The blow crumpled the Knight as though he had been made of straw, slapped him out of the air and to the ground in a single short, violent motion. Tavi had no doubt at all that Frederic had crushed the life from him.
Frederic lifted his spade and swung wildly at the next Knight, as the man swerved to avoid him. Frederic missed, but even as he swung, Tavi saw the light glittering on somethingshining on the blade of the spade, hard white lumps — crystals of salt. The salt swept through the Knight Aeris’s windstream, and the man let out a yelp, tumbling to the ground and rolling with bone-breaking violence into the wall of one of the barracks.
Fred stared at the two men, his eyes wide, panting. He turned to Tavi and stammered, “I already had my spade salted. After I hit that first one, when I was working on that boulder.” He blinked at the spade, and then at Tavi. “Are you all right?”
Tavi swallowed and looked back over his shoulder at the interior of the stable. Inside, someone had leapt out of the shadows at the swordsman. There was a confused blur of outlines, a short cry — and then the swordsman continued toward them.
Frederic swallowed, gripping his spade. “Tavi? What do we do?”
“Give me a minute,” Tavi stammered. “I’m thinking.”
Without warning, a Marat warrior hurled himself at Tavi, plowing into his side and lifting him, carrying him to slam painfully against the wall of the stable. Tavi let out a croaking shout and swung his knife weakly at the Marat warrior, a blood-smeared member of Clan Wolf, but the knife glanced off, barely breaking the Marat’s skin.
The warrior tore at Tavi with his fangs, drawing back just enough to slam him against the wall, once, and then again, driving the breath from his lungs and stars into his vision.
Fred loomed up behind the warrior, shoved one brawny arm beneath his chin, and wrenched the Marat back from Tavi, hauling the Marat off of his feet and eliciting a strangled scream of protest. “Tavi!” Fred shouted. “Run!”
Tavi landed on the ground, woozily, and pushed himself to his hands and knees. He looked up to see the swordsman still coming for him and turned, the gold-handled dagger still clutched in his fist, and started moving again, staggering off into the wild melee of the courtyard.
Tavi ducked the butt of a legionare’s spear, slipped on a dark wetness he did not take the time to look at, and scrambled forward. A bloodied holder Tavi recognized from Rothholt turned toward him and lifted his sword, but recognized Tavi before striking and yelled something at him through the tumult and din.
Wind roared over the courtyard once more, and Tavi looked back to see another Knight Aeris hovering, eyes searching over the courtyard. His gaze swept to Tavi and stopped. The man’s eyes widened, and he dived down toward him.
Somewhere close, Tavi heard the scream of a horse, and Tavi turned toward it, his eyes widening. He slipped past a stout old holder hauling a wounded legionare back out of the main knot of combat in the courtyard’s center, to find a knot of horses, riders wielding spear and blade and forcing their way across the courtyard.
“Hashat!” Tavi shouted.
The Marat’s head whipped around, white mane flying, and she flashed Tavi a fierce smile. “Aleran!” she called, her voice merry. Her eyes snapped into place above him, and she hissed, tightening her legs on the back of her horse. The beast plunged forward, all but bowling Tavi over, then reared. Tavi looked up in time to see the Knight Aeris that had been coming for him slash at Hashat and miss, only to have the Marat’s saber whip across his face. The man shouted, clawing at his eyes, but he managed to thrust himself up higher into the air, bobbing drunkenly away from the courtyard. One of the other warriors spun with one of the heavily curved Marat short bows in his hands, and loosed an arrow that felled the Knight from the sky.