'Unknown?' he said, using a two-handed grip to deflect a lunge to his head. He steered the enemy weapon aside and thrashed back quickly, his opponent stepping smartly back to evade.

'Keep going,' said The Unknown, though his breath was short and there was desperation in his voice. 'Believe.'

Beside The Unknown, Aeb clattered his axe into the chest plate of a Dordovan and he crashed backwards into his companions. Hirad's opponent was knocked off balance and the barbarian seized his chance, whipping his blade into the man's throat, seeing it torn out to spray blood high. The victim fell choking, hands dragged him aside and yet another moved up to take his place.

Something had to give. Hirad, his arms aching and lungs burning, roared to clear his head again and swore that it wouldn't be him.

Darrick was in no mood to wait. They were behind the fight, looking at the Dordovan forces pushing inexorably on. He could see Hirad's sword rising and falling, blocldng and sweeping. But he could also see the direction of the battle, and his friends would die.

'Call them off,' he said.

Vuldaroq said nothing.

'Ren, I think we should get their attention. Fire until they notice you.'

Ren sighed, stretched her bow and let go the arrow, seeing it slam into the back of a Dordovan neck. The man pitched forwards into those in front.

'Call them off,' repeated Darrick. His sword point dug a litde deeper and his free hand rested on the arrow once more. 'If my friends die, so do you. I promise you.'

Ren fired again, another soldier fell and those at the back of the line were turning quickly. Some of them advanced. Ren nocked another arrow and bent the bow. Darrick moved his blade to Vuldaroq's neck and held up his free hand to keep the Dordovans back.

'Your move, fat man,' he whispered. 'Either we all live or we all die. Choose.'

Hirad could see movement at the back of the Dordovan press but couldn't see exactly what had caused it. Men were moving away and the shouts of encouragement had turned to those of warning. The pressure eased.

'Come on Raven!' he yelled, and though only The Unknown stood by him, the Protectors took up the invitation. They pushed.

Hirad thrashed his blade into the chest of his enemy, bending chain mail links in and winding him. The soldier couldn't raise a block and Hirad slammed his sword right to left and down into his stomach. Beside him, The Unknown overheaded, his blade clanging into a helm and stunning his opponent while Aeb's blade whispered through the air as it had all day, its point tearing die throat from an enemy.

There was shouting from ahead, urgent and quick. He thought he heard the order to disengage and the Dordovans paced back. He made to move in to keep up the attack but Darrick's voice stopped him.

'Hirad, hold!'

Confused, Hirad backed off.

'Cease,' said The Unknown. The Protectors stopped immediately.

The Dordovans retreated into the dining room. There were still twenty of them, maybe more. Hirad, breathing hard, sweating and glad for the break, saw them part and then, through them, came Vuldaroq, Darrick's blade at his neck and Ren by him, bow flexed and ready.

Hirad smiled and was about to speak when Erienne came to, screaming.

She surged out of Lyanna's mind, murder on her lips. She had to warn Denser, had to let him know somehow. But the tendrils were snatching at her and with every passing heartbeat the monster invaded her, leaving Lyanna to die. For even as it fed on her, it sustained her while she gave it strength, like a parasitic host. Keeping her alive it leached all it could from her before discarding her for another. And the Al-Drechar weren't prepared to take the chance of losing what they had nurtured within her daughter and they were transferring it to another, more able host; and the match was perfect.

She clawed towards consciousness, fought the monster which locked on to her, suffusing her mind, showing her miracles, showing her power. She didn't want any of it. She wanted her child alive.

Her eyes flashed open, her heart trip-hammering in her chest. She looked down at Lyanna. The child was still, so still. A scream erupted from her lips and she was massaging Lyanna's arms, her chest, her back, urging her to breathe, for her pulse to beat and for her lips to move and her lungs to drag in air.

She could dimly sense Denser talking to her, calling, crying, shouting. There was a cacophony in her head. She put Lyanna on the ground, shaking off the hands that clawed at her, her mouth meeting her daughter's, breathing into her again and again.

But there was nothing but the roaring in her own head and the whispering that she was too late. She raised her head slowly, wiped the stray hair from Lyanna's beautiful face, saw her tears drip on those perfect cheeks and brushed her trembling fingers across her blueing lips.

'My poor little girl. I'm so sorry.'

Denser's arms were around her. Silence beat at her ears and the roaring died away.

'Let me go,' she said calmly.

He relaxed his hold. She shot to her feet, dragged the knife from her belt sheath and dived at Ephemere, plunging the blade over and over into the Al-Drechar's chest.

'Murderer!' she cried. 'Murderer!'

Strong arms pulled her away. She fought against them.

'You killed her, you bastards!' she raged. 'Fucking bitches, you killed her!'

She almost broke free but more hands held her arms down and the dagger was prised from her grasp. Denser's face came close to hers and he put a hand to the back of her neck and pulled her towards his heaving shoulders.

'They killed my baby,' she whispered. 'They killed my baby.'

And then there was darkness.

Hirad was shaking. He didn't understand. Lyanna was lying dead on the floor of the kitchen and Erienne had torn the chest from Ephemere while the other Al-Drechar looked on, too dazed or weak to do anything about it. The Unknown had dragged her away and Aeb had taken the dagger from her.

He turned, bloodied sword in hand. Ilkar was sitting slouched, semi-conscious. Darrick had marched Vuldaroq into the midst of them, the Dordovan soldiers falling back, looking to their wounded and casting wary eyes at the Protectors, the only men still ready and willing to fight.

Hirad heaved in a breath. Denser was crying, Erienne in his arms. He had retreated with her to a chair and sat there, oblivious to everyone around him. The barbarian turned to Darrick who was holding his sword still at Vuldaroq's neck.

'Thank you,' he managed, though it felt like utter failure.

Darrick shrugged. Out in the dining room, the Dordovans stood in a confused silent group, covered from the kitchen door by Ren and Aronaar, who had moved back from the ballroom.

'Hardly matters does it?' said the General.

Hirad shook his head. He looked down on Lyanna's still form and over at the hideous bloodied mass that had been Ephemere. Flanking her, Myriell and Cleress sat, eyes closed, each with a hand covering one of their dead sister's.

Vuldaroq cleared his throat. 'Would you mind moving this?' He waved at Darrick's sword point. 'For rather obvious reasons, I no longer represent a danger.'

'Hirad?' asked Darrick.

'Whatever,' said the barbarian. 'We can't kill him, so we might as well let him go.' Darrick sheathed his sword and Vuldaroq relaxed.

Hirad looked at The Unknown. The big man's gaze was locked on the body of the child.

'Unknown?'

'All for nothing,' he said. 'Poor little mite. She never stood a chance.'

'But we had to try,' said Hirad.

'Always doomed, wasn't she?' The Unknown pointed at the Al-Drechar. 'And they knew it.'

'What now?' asked Hirad.

The Unknown looked up, his eyes moist. 'First, I suggest the Dordovans pick up their wounded, bury their dead, and leave. The battle is over. Then, I really haven't got a clue.'