33. The First Ray of Dawn.
"Are you sure we didn't miss the house?"
"No, I'm bloody not! It's darker than Hellgates, I can't see beyond my paws! Can't we wait until morning?" Once again, Suran's temper easily overwhelmed his caution.
"No we can't." Captain Aldwin was no less frozen, tired and irritated, but he dealt with it better. "Who knows if your comrades jolly well decide that you've died or left them and get movin' as soon as dawn breaks? And most likely they're the beasts to find whom I've been searchin' through this flippin' cold, miserable wilderness for more than a moon, instead of enjoyin' myself in Salamandastron. I don't want even a slightest flippin' chance of all this effort goin' to waste. Now move it."
A couple of dozens paces behind them Private Sovna stumbled, as one of her paws suddenly sank deep into snow. Usually a small misfortune like that would have provoked a curse. Now the haremaid did not have enough spirit left even for that. Being one of the Gallopers was a dream assignment for her, though not for the reason Captain Aldwin probably imagined when making his offer. Now this dream, this shortcut to the goal that made Sovna come to the Mountain and enlist with the Long Patrol in the first place, turned into a nightmare.
Sovna was too busy with depression and self-pity to hear another hare approaching her in the dark before a strong paw helped her to escape the snow trap and regain her balance. She recognized Lieutenant Bascinette, who was bringing up the rear, as befitted the second most senior hare in the unit.
The older female was in no mood for nonsense. "March brisker, Private! And look where you're blinkin' goin'!"
Sovna brushed her paw off forcefully before considering that this might be seen as striking an officer. If something still could call up the same rage that made Sovna's disciplinary record terrible now, it was condescending help. Bascinette made a step backwards watching the private intently, ready to assume a boxing stance or to reach for her saber. This friendless, angry haremaid would not be the first misfit on her memory who snapped violently, but, in fact, the prime candidate for being the third.
But however liberating it would be to let aimless rage lift herself from the pit of despair, Sovna resisted, if only out of sheer stubbornness inherited from her farmer mother. "Yes, Marm! Marching brisker."
Bascinette only shook her head, as Sovna resumed moving forward. Whatever Aldwin thought, it was an error to invite this one to the Gallopers. Too bad now was not the best time to fix this error.
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Sargiss' hope that his prey is going to spend a sleepless night was not entirely unfounded. As the twilight gave way to the pitch-black night, Ewalt quickly deduced that the enemy is likely to wait until dawn, and Kethra agreed with him, so they decided to let the others rest while the two of them, as the most battle-hardened and vigilant warriors, kept watch. But sleeping while a sword hung over your head was not easy.
Still, by the quietest hour of the night, everybeast was slumbering fitfully. Even Kethra, despite her best efforts to stay sharp, dozed on and off, overcame by the weariness of the long day. Only Ewalt remained wide awake, with not a trace of drowsiness.
Of course, he wouldn't have lived to this day without the ability to fight off sleep for a long time when needed. But there was another reason for his vigilance, a thought that started small and now weighted heavily on his mind. The moon was just the thinnest crescent this night, but Ewalt still could see where enemy sentries watching the house were. He peered into darkness again through the gap left in the door to watch the enemy in turn – yeah, there they were, not even hiding, about five of them. The warrior mouse doubted whether they could see or hear him, if he were to move cautiously, and maybe they were sinking into sleep as well. Maybe he could sneak out and kill a few beasts in their camp, but the risk of getting caught in the open was great... Or maybe he could escape quietly and alone. That was much less risky… and likely gave him much better chances of ever reaching Salamandastron than trying to fight off about forty killers with a bunch of youngsters, farmers and vermin. Even if those vermin won't falter when push comes to shove...
"Ugh…" Kethra shook her head, trying to return to her senses. "Ewalt, what you're bloody doing? Pinch me if I start to nod again."
"Will do."
After a brief struggle with a mighty yawn, Kethra spoke quietly, maybe because she wanted to occupy herself with something before the need to get pinched arose. "Who could think just the last summer that I'll be waiting to meet my fate in a mouse's company. Though may thunder and fire strike me down, if you shouldn't have been born a ferret. My brother… hey what's up with your face? You look at me like you are... I don't even know."
Ewalt turned away from her. Was his shame obvious enough to be seen even in the dim light of a single wicker lamp, left burning so that beasts other than him could notice each other? "Nothing. It is nothing."
"If vermin won't falter... Merciless seasons, I'm the weakest-hearted vermin here."
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Sargiss and his beasts started preparing for battle just as the sky started brightening in the east. They didn't have much beyond some dry dunegrass to keep their dim bonfires going through the night, but at least now they had enough meat to properly fill themselves before the battle. Sargiss ordered to leave nothing for the next day. They'll have to provision themselves with whatever – and whomever – they can find in the besieged house. All the more reason to attack fiercely.
With their attention drawn to their target, nobeast in the small horde looked in the opposite direction from the house, so they had no chance to notice a creature who spied on them from there. And now, just as the vermin readied themselves, Tesak the scout was explaining their position and numbers to the rest of the Gallopers and Suran.
"Twoscore and two fighting beasts in all, you say?"
The small hare nodded. "Yea. Bloomin' flesheaters by their looks, and pretty tough as far as vermin go, sah."
Aldwin barely held back a curse. No doubt, his hares were superior fighters, but they had very little rest since the last morning! His own bones and old wounds ached. And honestly, even with the Gallopers in top shape, openly assaulting a force outnumbering them four to one would be gambling most of their lives on whether their charge breaks the foe.
But Aldwin wouldn't be long in this world as a commander without the ability to think on his paws. "Listen up, everybeast. Here's the plan..."
"Ain't risking their lives runs against your orders?" Chuckled Suran after the captain finished explaining the simple idea.
"Getting everybeast killed is what against my flippin' orders, fox." Aldwin was in no shape for a witty conversation. "It's enough that I'm tryin' to trust you, I'm not goin' to argue plans with you."
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"They're coming."
Everybeast in Dornal's house was already well awake, clutching their scant weapons, when a dark mass of vermin moved over the top of the dune facing the entrance.
"Lemme welcome the curs." Tezza stepped forward, her bow already strung. She only took a second to aim, it was still a bit too dark for her to aim for anything but the whole enemy crowd, anyway. "May our luck guide tis shaft!"
Whether it was indeed luck or her skill, a painful yelp sounded from the enemy ranks. Several arrows and heavy stones flew through the doorframe or thudded into walls around it almost immediately, but Tezza wisely stepped to the side immediately after making the shot.
"See?" Kethra, who stood to one side of the doorway, was swift to exploit the weasel's success. "Fortune is on our side today! Stand…"
A loud war howl from dozens of throats and a sound of weapons being banged against shields in unison drowned the rest of her words. Then Sargiss' band charged, all as one.
In summer this battle could have been very easily and cheaply won by setting fire to the thick straw roof of the house. But today, in winter, that roof was thickly covered by snow, which made it impossible to set alight with burning arrows or thrown torches. So while Sargiss himself led several of his best and strongest warriors to assault the doorway, the rest of the band was, as Ewalt correctly predicted, tasked with ripping through the roof, now even more easily accessible thanks to the same snow burying the building.
For a score of painfully slow heartbeats nobeast within the house spoke or move, as they tensed, awaiting the inevitable clash. Even the babes fell silent, clutching to Wincey. But the hammer did not fall. Just as the vermin half-surrounded the house, readying themselves for the final rush, arrows, javelins and spears whistled among them, a couple finding their marks, and a loud battlecry rang from the dunetop they have just abandoned:
"Eulalia!"
Sargiss achieved a degree of success as a warlord because he was not prone to panic. One look back allowed him to grasp the general situation, despite the gloom. "To me! They're few! Rally to me! Stand firm, shield to shield!"
A long and thick arrow thudded into the ferret warlord's own shield, almost piercing it, but Sargiss could see that most of the troop that suddenly appeared in his rear was charging down the slope after releasing the initial volley of missiles.
"Who is it there?" Kethra, of course, heard what was happening outside. "Whose cry it is?"
"Hares! Don't you remember? It's the battlecry of Salamandastron hares! We're saved!" Rowanbloom almost jumped in elation.
She was not the only one whose heart suddenly soared with hope and relief. The realization that once again help arrived in his darkest hour, made Trugg feel the same rush he felt when fighting his former masters under the wall of the Seacrag Castle, except higher, stronger. Before anybeast could stop him, he charged out of the door.
Most of Sargiss' vermin had already turned towards the new threat, but a stoat still was watching the doorway, rightfully reluctant to turn his back on the remaining enemy. Trugg swung his mace and it met the stoat's shield with a loud bang, driving the vermin a step back. Before he managed to strike again – and just a moment before a javelin launched by Ewalt, who rushed after Trugg, struck his enemy – the stoat slashed him with a curved sword.
Ewalt only faintly remembered what happened later. The fury that gripped him was even worse than in the Seacrag Castle tower, perhaps because the self-loathing that birthed it was very fresh. He did not realize, until being told by others later, that the battle might have turned out much worse had he not continued Trugg's heedless charge, and had every able-bodied beast within the house not followed him.
Sargiss' vermin still outnumbered their foes, but their hasty attempt to bunch together and withstand the charge of fierce Long Patrol hares crumbled, when they were struck from both directions. The hares – and Suran with them – plowed into the vermin mass, pushing them back and scything them down.
Sovna charged with the rest too. And truly, keeping with the pace of that charge, keeping herself from falling behind the others, was as easy for her as throwing herself against an iron wall. Her right paw and back, where the flat of Suran's blade left a noticeable welt, still stung. Yet much worse was the poisonous sting of newfound fear. Sovna was not stupid enough to doubt that there are beasts far stronger and more skilled than her. She never imagined that a vermin could defeat her and render her helpless so easily, though. And now the foes ahead, merging into a seething black blot in her eyes, were not a pile of dry leaves to be scattered, which she thought a vermin horde would be before Long Patrol hares, but a terrifying threat. Maybe her heart would have faltered entirely, had she not killed before. Even with that, just running forward took all of her willpower.
Thankfully, her reflexes forged by diligent training took over when the forces clashed. The haremaid deflected a spear thrust she not so much saw as intuitively guessed with her buckler and stabbed quickly below the shield that her foe raised to protect his head and neck. The rapier point met something that offered only slight resistance and the vermin howled in agony. Then Sovna was in the thick of the fray. No longer having time or presence of mind to count her foes, she slashed left and right, all the normal rules of fencing thrown to the wind, her keen rapier easily slicing into unarmored opponents.
Aldwin thought for a second that he bungled the plan by ordering the Gallopers to attack a little bit too early, before the vermin engaged the defenders of the house. But apparently beasts he came to save were not so faint of hearts as to let others fight for them. Fortunate, because Aldwin's other fear came true – the charge failed to rout these vermin and now they fought doggedly. Before the captain's strength and skill their uncommon valor availed them nothing, as his mighty claymore cleaved shields and their owners alike.
But other hares were not so formidable. Young Kleves bit through his lip, trying to hold back a scream of pain, as a spear pierced his footpaw. He managed to knock down the weasel who wielded the spear with a swipe of his shield before another foe was upon him, swinging a long-hafted battleaxe. Kleves' new beautiful helmet, that he was so proud of, had chainmail veil to protect the wearer's neck. The steel rings held against the tremendous blow. The neck itself did not.
"Death on the wind!"
Sargiss whirled away from the fallen hare as he heard Kethra's battlecry behind him, swinging his axe with the same motion. With a thunk the axehaft caught Kethra's bloodied sword, knocking it out of her paw. Before Sargiss struck again, Kethra tore her cloak, the same precious red cloak that her brother, father and grandfather wore on important occasions, from her shoulders and threw it over his head. It only took Sargiss a second to swipe the heavy cloth away, but a second was enough for Kethra to jump on him. And then Sargiss made a mistake: he thought that the ferretmaid would first try to wrestle away the weapon that was hers to begin with. In the half-light of early morning he realized that mistake only when Kethra's teeth closed on his neck. Dropping the weapon he struggled furiously, trying to bite her in turn, clawing at her back, but the ferretmaid did not let go, even as they fell down and rolled.
A stoat noticed his chieftain's predicament and raised his spear to pierce Kethra but hesitated momentarily, afraid to hit the wrong one of the two ferrets struggling in the snow. Then a terrible burning pain pierced him. Only a thin wheeze instead of a cry issued from his throat, when he saw a bloodied swordpoint protruding from his chest. And just as Suran showed the dying creature away, the fight between Kethra and Sargiss was decided: limbs of the male ferret still moved, but those were final convulsions of a beast who had his spine bitten in half.
The fox looked around to find no more foes within reach, at least no more of those with whom others couldn't deal. A few of Sargiss' vermin were trying to save their hides by running. They were far too late with that idea. The small battlefield of trotted snow was covered by bodies, some lying like broken toys, others still twitching or trying to move. Suran had to give the fighting hares some credit: from all of his numerous battlefields, he could remember few examples of so much carnage in so little time.
He saw that one of the hares, a big one, with a bloodied battleaxe advanced on a bow-wielding weasel. Before those two clashed, a squirrel rushed between them.
"Wait! She's on our side!" Rowanbloom shouted.
Private Sparth looked at the two smaller beasts, excitement of battle gradually fading. "I know," he rumbled, "I know."
Still, Tezza, and Smalltooth who was near her, recoiled from the big hare and his comrades, almost back into the house. They had a reason to be afraid: the Gallopers gave no quarter. To be fair, neither would Kethra's beasts in the same position, but they weren't in the Gallopers' position now and had to wonder whether these perilous warriors cared to distinguish between different sorts of vermin.
Kethra finally realized that her enemy, whose name she never learned, is dead and tried to rise. Suran extended a paw to help her. "Well, as you see, you have to thank me for this timely help. Where you would be without me?"
"Izzat really you?" Kethra's response was not very friendly, but she took the offered paw. She spat out some fur and added. "Well, who could have guessed!"
Captain Aldwin stabbed down and twisted his claymore in the neck of a weasel who still tried to crawl away, even though her intestines were trailing behind. Finishing off helpless enemies was one part of fighting that he never liked. Why vermin so often lacked grace to die cleanly from the same blows that felled them, like they did in legends and stories? Still, the captain could not leave another creature, even a flesheater condemned by laws of Salamandastron and customs of all goodbeasts, to expire slowly in agony.
"If anybeast finds one in the shape to talk, bring him alive!" Aldwin proclaimed loudly, then looked around. "Espadron, where are you? We have wounded here."
Espadron was not far, and fortunately unhurt, returning after catching up with a fox who tried to escape. That was a relief, because the scarred hare was the only skilled surgeon in the unit. But for young Kleves no help was needed anymore. And for old Sergeant Greeves…
"Looks like they got me this time…" The prostrated veteran's breath was heavy and pained. Even in the still-poor lighting it was clear that a spear went into his groin and made a horrible mess of the right hip, and that snow beneath him was black with blood.
"That they did." Espadron nodded, as he knelt next to the sergeant and examined his injury. "The only thing I can offer you is the last mercy, old chap."
"Wait!" Sovna walked up to them because she needed a medic herself, her right paw laid open to the bone with a cutlass slash, but upon hearing Espadron's words she was horrified. Of the whole unit, Greeves was the only hare who had shown her a bit of what seemed to be genuine kindness. "How you can say that! He's still…"
Espadron looked at her. Sovna was not sure in this gloom, but his ghastly face seemed twitching. "He's finished. My help is needed for those who still have hope."
"He's right, you know…" Greeves tried his best to smile. His pain already was disappearing, in fact, he couldn't feel his legs at all anymore, it was harder and harder to think, but the old sergeant couldn't let himself drift away yet. "Don't grieve for me, chapess. Dyin' on the field of victory, among one's friends... beats wastin' away from old age. Nothin' to regret… nothin' to regret here."
Greeves was lying. But maintaining morale in the ranks was his duty. And after over forty seasons dedicated to the Long Patrol, he couldn't forget his duties easily even standing on the border of the Dark Forest.
At about the same time when Aldwin shouted for Espadron, Lynne found Trugg. The former slave was in a haze, barely capable of comprehending anything besides his pain. He wondered briefly and dumbly why that mouse screamed and cried over him. He wanted to tell that whatever she's trying to do with his belly only causes him more stabbing agony, but couldn't make his tongue move properly.
Then Rowanbloom ran up to them. "Give way! Let me see him!"
"He's dying! Trugg is dying!" Lynne, who just a couple of minutes ago bravely charged into the mob of vermin with others, wielding just a knife and a sharpened stick – though her survival owed more to the fact that Sargiss' beasts were concentrating on the hares, than to any merit of hers – now was a sobbing wreck.
"No, he's not!" Rowanbloom had to almost shove her away. She spoke more out of blind hope that real confidence, but after examining the wound the squirrel healer realized that her words were quite possibly correct. "He won't be the first beast I nursed back to heath after seeing his guts in the open. He must be in shock, but he can live!"
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The Gallopers were quite sure that none of the vermin had escaped them. But they were wrong. One beast in the Sargiss band saw the appearance of hares as nothing more than a prime opportunity to run away, the very moment he heard the first "Eulalia!". And run away Spikepelt did. Sargiss and others forgot about him when everything suddenly went very wrong for them, and none of the Gallopers noticed his quick escape in the dark. The ferret had no idea whether the newcomers were friends to his old company or just another group of foes, and did not care. They all could kill each other, it made no difference to him. His old hatreds that once made him follow Marroch faithfully were almost forgotten now, seared away by newer spite. And of course he knew that his head would part with the shoulders, was he to meet either Kethra or Sargiss again.
As the sky brightened and Spikepelt reached the forest edge unhindered, he started making plans for the future. His old strength had not completely returned yet, but he had no doubt that a tough ferret like him will have no trouble prospering in the wilderness. As long as he avoids encountering whomever might win the battle at Dornal's house, that is. Spikepelt knew that Kethra intended to lead others south, and from what he managed to hear while being in Sargiss' band, they were traveling south as well.
So it made perfect sense for him to turn north.