"Open the gates!" Bernard shouted. "Let me in!"

Giraldi waited until the last possible moment before barking a command, and the gates were thrown open and then shut again behind the frantic horse, almost before it was through them. A groom came to take the animal, but it reared and screamed, panicked.

Bernard slid off the horse and swiftly away, but the frenzied animal slipped on the icy stones of the courtyard and collapsed onto its side, bleeding, wheezing. Amara could see the long rents in the beast's flesh, where knives or claws had torn at it.

"Get ready," Bernard panted, turning and swiftly mounting the ladder to the battlements above the gates. The Steadholder, his eyes wide, face pale said, "The Cursor was right. There's a horde out there. And about ten thousand of them are coming right behind me."

Chapter 36

Amara swept her gaze out over the ground before the walls, stark and white and cold in the blue-white furylights, and then looked back at Bernard. "Are you all right?"

The big Steadholder held up a hand to her, his breathing still heavy, and addressed Giraldi and Pirellus. "I couldn't get close enough to tell much. Light troops, moving fast. A lot of them had bows, and I thought I saw some scaling poles."

Giraldi grimaced and nodded once. "Which clans?"

"Wolf, Herdbane," Bernard said. He leaned a shoulder against one of the battlements. Amara turned to a bucket of water hanging on a hook nearby and scooped out a drinking ladle, passing it to Bernard. He nodded to her and drank the ladle away. "Giraldi, I'll need a sword, mail, arrows if you've any to spare."

"No," Pirellus said, stepping forward. "Giraldi, you shouldn't have given this civilian a horse, much less let him be on the walls when we're expecting an attack."

Bernard squinted at the Knight Commander. "Young man, how long have you been in the Legions?"

Pirellus faced Bernard squarely. "What matters is that I am in them now, sir. You are not. It is the purpose of the Legions to protect the people of the Realm. Now get off the wall and let us do our job."

"He stays," Amara said, firmly. "Centurion, if there's any mail that might fit me, have it brought as well."

Giraldi turned and pointed a finger at one of the legionares on the wall. The man immediately leapt down a ladder and dashed into one of the guardhouses. Both Bernard and Pirellus turned to blink at Amara.

"No," Bernard said.

"I think not."

Both men frowned at one another.

Amara let out an impatient breath "Commander, you have sent your Knights Aeris to bring reinforcements, and those that remain are flying patrol overhead They're under strength and may need whatever help they can get. The Steadholder is a furycrafter of considerable strength and has military experience He is within his rights as a Citizen to stand in defense of his steadholt"

Bernard scowled at Amara and said, "I don't like it "

Pirellus nodded "I must agree, Countess You presumably do not have military experience beyond personal defense I don't like it either "

"Fortunately, I do not need either of you to like it" Amara arched an eyebrow at Bernard as the legionare came running back up, both shoulders draped with coats of mail, one arm loaded down with weaponry She took the mail he offered her, a long vest of interlocking rings, and took off her cloak to shove her arms into its padded undervest, and then into the mail itself She started fumbling with the buckles, only to have Bernard push her fingers away and start cinching the buckles tight with practiced speed

"You shouldn't be up here," he said

"Because I'm a woman'" Amara pulled a cloak on over her shoulders again and buckled on a belt with a clip for her sword's scabbard

"Because you're green Unblooded It's got nothing to do with you being a woman "

She glanced at him, arching an eyebrow

Bernard shrugged, tugging another buckle closed "Almost nothing Here, move your arms a bit, so that this will settle "

By the time she'd finished, Bernard had dumped his cloak in exchange for a mail shirt of his own and a steel cap whose flanges spread down over the back of his neck, while the metal guard pressed down over his nose He strapped on the sword belt, while his eyes swept the ground outside the walls, then took up his bow

"Quiet," said the big-eared legionare again, from down the wall He tilted his head for a moment, then swallowed The man looked down the wall at Pirellus and nodded "Sir? Here they come "

Pirellus gave the man a nod, then said to Bernard and Amara, "Help if you wish, then It's your blood But stay out of my way" He looked up and down the wall and said, "Archers "

Amara watched as centurions repeated the command down the length of the wall on either side of her and men stepped up to the battlements,

bows in hand, arrows resting on quivers beside them. They set arrows to the strings, eyes focused intently at the edge of the area lit by Garrison's fury-lights, and held their bows half-raised. Tension made their forms gaunt, the harsh lights behind them casting their eyes into shadow, making them faceless. Amara heard a soldier not far away take in a deep breath and blow it out, as though impatient for it all to be finished.

Her heart pounded faster, and she had to work to keep her breath from racing out of control. The mail on her shoulders had a solid, comforting weight to it, but something about the smell of the metal set her on edge and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She put a hand on the hilt of the sword at her belt and felt her fingers shake. She wrapped them hard around the weapon's hilt to stop anyone from noticing.

Bernard stared thoughtfully out at the darkness, having not yet drawn an arrow to his bow. He shrugged one shoulder, as though trying to settle the mail on it more comfortably. He took a step closer to her and said, quietly, "Afraid?"

She frowned at him and shook her head. Even that gesture was too jerky. "Where are they?"

"Out there. Outside the light. They'll come into it as soon as they've massed for their charge."

"Ten thousand." She pressed her lips together. "Ten thousand."

"Don't focus on the numbers," he said, in that same low tone. "This is a simple, solid defense. We have the wall, the light, the ground in front of us. They built Garrison here because it's the best point of defense anywhere in the Valley. It gives us an enormous advantage."

Amara looked up at him again, then up and down the length of the wall. She couldn't stop her voice from shaking. "But there are so few legionares."

"Easy," Bernard rumbled. "That's all right. Pirellus has his most experienced troops on the walls. Career fighting men, most of them with families behind them. The compulsory terms are down in the courtyard as reserves. These troops can fight ten times their number from this position with a good chance of victory, even without the Knights here. Pirellus and his men are the ones who are really going to win this battle. The legionares just have to hold the horde off of them until the Knights can bring their furies to bear on the Marat. We'll bloody their noses, and as soon as we can determine who is leading them, the Knights will take him down."

"They'll kill their hordemaster," Amara said.

"It discourages new hordemasters," Bernard said. "Or that's the idea. Once enough Marat are dead and their leader is gone, and they've not managed to break our defense, they won't have the stomach for any more fighting.''

She nodded, pressing her lips together. "All right. What can I do to help?"

"Look for their leader. They don't wear anything much beyond what a normal warrior does, so you just have to look for someone shouting orders near the center."