A/N: This is probably my favourite chapter in the whole story. I came up with this scene way before everything else. It's got two of my favourite things: action and angst. Lots of emotional material here; you know, all the good stuff!
Disclaimer: None of this is mine. I can't even claim the ownership of any cool names, because nobody new shows up.
Chapter 4: Attack
Terciel and Sabrine picked their way through the trees. It was nearly sunset, and they were only three or four miles from the Wall. Terciel had to admit that his wife's plan seemed to be working. Perhaps it was best that their daughter be born in Ancelstierre, out of the reach of his many enemies.
"Are you cold?" he asked his wife.
The woman shook her head, boots crunching on the frosty ground.
"What should we name her?" she asked suddenly.
Caught off-guard, Terciel could only shrug. "You pick a name," he grinned.
Sabrine cocked her head to the side in mock-serious thought. "Well, it should be a name fit for an Abhorsen," she mused. "Perhaps Phylliel, after your aunt?"
Terciel shook his dark head. "That will be much too confusing," he remarked. "We should have asked the Wallmakers' relict for names of past female Abhorsens."
"You do not know your Abhorsen history?" Sabrine gasped with feigned shock.
Terciel laughed and was about to reply, when his Death sense twitched. He stopped in his tracks and grabbed Sabrine's arm. He could feel them – at least thirty Dead Hands, coming steadily closer. Abhorsen put his hand to his sword and drew it, taking comfort in the familiar weight. Beside him, Sabrine nervously readied a defensive Charter spell. "Get behind me," Terciel instructed, and as she complied the first of the Dead emerged from the trees.
Abhorsen raised his sword, swiftly cutting through the rotting flesh of the first two and beheading a third. He felt a flare of magic at his back, and heard a Dead Hand scream. Terciel gave a satisfied smile; his wife could take care of herself. But they did not have the time to fight – they needed to get across the Wall.
Terciel swiftly drew Ranna, and as he rang the bell the Dead wobbled on their legs, and several lay down to sleep. But there were simply too many of them, and the able-bodied ones kept attacking. Terciel was soon lost in the familiar rhythm of battle, a complex combination of sword-thrusts and Charter spells, until he had finally cleared enough space to act. He deftly drew Saraneth, and its deep booming voice froze the Dead in their tracks. Terciel replaced the bell and was about to draw Kibeth when he heard a scream.
He turned, and his heart froze. Sabrine was being lifted high up off the ground by a Shadow Hand. Dark tendrils surrounded her neck, choking her mercilessly.
Incredible anger welled up in Terciel, and the sword fell from his grasp as he shot out his arm. The Charter spell crackled into the Shadow Hand like lightning, and it dropped the woman heavily to the ground. The shadow turned to face Terciel, who bellowed another spell. A golden net sprang from his outstretched hand, enveloping the thing in ropes of yellow fire. It crumpled to the ground with a piercing shriek, and Terciel snatched up his sword. He plunged the Charter-spelled blade into the shadow's flesh, and the Hand faded as it sank into Death.
Breathing hard, Abhorsen drew Kibeth, and its song sent the frozen Dead Hands walking back to Death. He had barely finished banishing them before he sank to the frozen ground beside his wife, replacing the bell with fumbling hands.
There was blood on the woman's lips. "Sabrine?" Abhorsen pleaded gently.
She opened her eyes, and immediately winced, her hands going to her belly. "The fall," she gasped. "The baby…"
Terciel placed his hand on her womb, and was relieved to feel that spark of life still burning, weak as it was. "She lives," he assured his wife, smoothing her hair back from her forehead.
"She's coming," the woman whispered hoarsely. She grimaced in sudden pain. "A contraction… She will be born soon."
Abhorsen felt a flare of panic. "It is two moons too early!"
Sabrine nodded, and sat up with her husband's help. "Yes, but she will be born. And she will live, Charter willing, though I may not."
Terciel's protest died on his lips as he sensed a new threat approaching. "Many more Dead Hands," he whispered, "And the necromancer… coming this way…"
He turned, and his eyes met Sabrine's. They both realized what had to be done, and in an instant they were locked in a passionate kiss, knowing that it could be their last.
Man and wife got to their feet, determined to carry out their duty. "Go," Terciel whispered, and Sabrine hurried into the trees, heading in the direction of the Wall.
Abhorsen drew his sword, and turned to face the necromancer and his Dead.
A/N: To be continued in the next chapter. Reviews, of course, are more than welcome.