The baron spat on the stone near his feet. “Get out, before I let them make you into a pin cushion.”
The Stormwing’s giggle was high and grating. “Oh, good. We hoped you’d say that.” He pumped his wings, pulling away from them fast.
A hunter’s screech split the air, and Daine’s osprey friend shot past the humans. He tangled his feet in the monster’s hair and hung on, pecking for the monster’s eyes. The Stormwing shrieked in fury and tried to dislodge the bird from his head, but lacked the arms with which to do it.
“Daine, call him off,” Numair said, his voice suddenly tight.
“I didn’t call him on—”
“Do it!” her friend yelled. Before them gold fire was stretching above the galleys to form a great square, anchored by the red robes below.
“Come back,” Daine yelled, putting her will behind it. “It’s not worth it, come back!” Something was pounding through the air, making her ears hurt.
The osprey broke off the attack and returned. Onua grabbed the children and hustled them off the deck.
I almost had his eyes, the bird complained. Just one more wingbeat—
The gold fire in the square exploded, knocking everyone down. Like a nightmare, a horde of Stormwings blasted through, led by Zhaneh Bitterclaws. They filled the air with a degree of stench and evil that had not been felt in the world in four centuries. To that they added pure fear in a weight that crushed the humans before them. Something—something huge and red in color—almost seemed to shove the gigantic flock through the gate, but it vanished. It had only been an impression; Daine was too busy trying to breathe with a full pack of terror on her mind to think about it for more than a second.
She straightened: an act of will that took all the courage she had. At the palace she’d had a taste of what a flock of the monsters could be like, but it was nothing like this. She brought up her longbow. At the edge of her vision she saw Numair, then the baron, struggle to their feet. She smiled, blinked the sweat from her eyes, and loosed her arrow.
The messenger had chosen to attack with the flock. As she suspected, her arrow went clean through him. Before he had struck the rocks below she had another arrow on the string and loosed. It flew in a volley as the other humans released their arrows.
Battle raged. Archers, Daine included, fired bolt after bolt, making sure of the target before they loosed. Numair made a hard decision fast: sitting against the wall, where he’d trip no one up, he lifted the dampener spells. The people with lesser Gifts, including those who knew fire- and war-spells, got to work. Onua quickly drew a protective circle around the mage to hide him from the Stormwings.
Daine fought two wars. Her animal friends wanted to rescue her, but she refused to let them. She soon learned that keeping her will on so many species, in the woods, the castle, and the air, was impossible. Pain shot through her head: twice she lost control of the gulls and ospreys. With triumphant screams the birds leaped into the air to harry the Stormwings. With claws and beaks they attacked, trying to drive the monsters onto the rocks or into each other.
Tears rolled down Daine’s cheeks. Mechanically she fired as birds fought and died, cut by steel wings or torn to pieces by steel claws and teeth. There was no chance that her power to heal would be pulled from her in this battle as it had been in the marsh: a wound here was death on the rocks below.
When the Stormwings attacked, so did the land raiders, reinforced by the fleet once the fog lifted. For the rest of the morning and into the long afternoon they tried to bring rams and ladders up to the castle walls, and were driven back.
Eventually the Stormwings lost interest in the battle and went to feast on the enemy dead outside the walls. They had what they wanted, no matter who won. They left the air over the deck first, not wanting to go on defending themselves against the archers and the birds.
When the deck had been quiet for a while, George ordered Daine to rest. She found some shade close to Numair and sat, leaning her throbbing head on her updrawn knees. No! she told the animals, who wanted to fight. No, no, no! With her last refusal she tightened her grip, until they gave in.
“Look at you.” While she’d battled her friends, Miri had come to the deck with Kalasin and one of the maids. All three carried laden trays and wineskins. The fisher-girl came to Daine, frowning. “Your skin’s a nice lobster red. You landlubbers don’t think about reflected glare—” She rubbed a cool salve into Daine’s hot face and arms. “Kally, where’s the tonic?”
The princess filled a tankard from her wineskin and handed it over.
“Drink, or you’ll be sick.” Miri put the tankard to Daine’s lips. She took a gulp and choked—it was tomato juice laden with salt and other things. “Drink it all.”
“Goddess, that’s nasty!” she croaked. She had the Smith-god’s own headache. Her hands throbbed, and her fingers refused to close. The muscles of both arms were screaming. She had never shot so much in her life.
“Nasty it may be, but it’ll keep you from collapsing on us. Have some more. Maude brewed it up special for you. Only think how her feelings would be hurt if you refused it.”
She sat up, wincing as her head pounded. Maude?—the old woman in charge of the nursery. “That’s right—she’s a healer, isn’t she?” From her cradle Daine had been taught to do as a healer said. She drew a deep breath and drank what was in the tankard as fast as possible. For a moment her stomach surged and her head screamed; then most of the pain and sickness were gone. “Goddess bless all healers,” Daine whispered. Even her hands had improved a little.
She sat up, and the maid gave her a bowl of stew and a roll. Daine took them and began to eat as Miri and the servant looked at Numair. “Should you even be out here?” she asked Kally.
“Onua put a protective circle around this place,” Miri said over her shoulder.
Daine smiled at Kally, then looked at Miri. “How’s it going?”
“Not bad.” That came from Numair. He sat with his head tilted back against the wall, his eyes closed, his face pouring sweat. Pillows had been put around his sides to make him comfortable. Someone—a redheaded six-year-old, Daine suspected—had tucked his prize stuffed bear under one of the mage’s big hands. “They can’t breach the walls—can’t even get near them. They’re having a horrible time with the archers. We’re holding our own.
“Can you drink or eat?” Kally asked. “Maude says you should if it won’t distract you from the spells.”
He nodded. The girl fetched a cup of water from a nearby barrel and held it to his lips. He drank without opening his eyes. “How are you doing, Your Highness?”
“Please don’t call me that.” The girl’s voice cracked. “It’s ’cause of me being a princess that all this is happening. It’s my fault and I hate it!”
Daine rolled to her knees and went to the child. “Here, now—stop that,” she said, patting Kally’s shoulder. The girl turned and buried her head in Daine’s shirt. She was crying, and fighting hard to keep from making any sound. She’s only eight, Daine thought sadly. “You got it all wrong, sweet-ling. Those men would do this no matter who they’re after. They could have asked for Numair, here, who’s in trouble in that Carthak place, or Sarge, that’s a runaway slave. It isn’t ’cause of you or Roald or anybody. You’re just the excuse. If you must blame somebody, blame them Carthaks.”
“Carthakis,” Numair corrected. He was smiling a little. “Daine’s right, Kalasin. The person who commits an action is the one responsible for it, not the people he commits the action upon.”
“But they said it was ’cause of Mama and Roald and me.” Kally blew her nose and wiped her face
.
“So they would.” Daine burned with fury. The Riders, the guards—even she had put herself in spots where a fight might sometimes be the only answer. They all knew the risks. But to twist a little girl’s mind so she blamed herself for the fight—that was horrible. “Evil people say evil things to make good people cry and doubt. Don’t let them get that hold on you. It’s because they’re too cheap to buy food. They druther steal it if they can. That’s really what it’s about.”
“Kalasin?” Maude was at the stair, calling. “I need you below. There’s healing to be done.”
Kally sniffed and wiped her face again. “Coming.”
Daine watched her go. “But she’s only a child.”
“That child is a strong, natural healer.” Numair hadn’t once opened his eyes. “She’s partly untrained, still, but Maude can talk her through whatever has to be done. How are you managing?”
Daine looked at him warily. “What d’you mean?”
“I mean your friends out there must be dying to go after the raiders, and I definitely recall you saying you won’t let them fight. The birds got away from you this morning, didn’t they?”
Daine clenched her fists and immediately regretted it. “I’m all right.”
“Liar.” He said it almost with amusement. “Is it a strain?”
The air was singing to her. “What?” She got to her feet. Where was it coming from? “Numair, do you hear it?”
“Hear what?”
It was like the griffins, only different, a singing coming from the north, low and close. It filled her eyes and ears and beat against the sore palms of her hands.
Onua was with George and Captain Josua, trying to talk Thayet into going below, when she felt her circle of protection on the deck evaporate. “Down!” She pushed the queen to the floor. George and Josua had their swords out as the source of the music came thundering up from below to surge over their heads. Numair was on his feet instantly, his watch over the castle shattered.