“Go.”
Her soft command sent Vaspret running low and silent like a coursing hound. The sentry sat idly dozing against the gate of the stockade died before waking without a sound. Vaspret jerked his knife out of the pirate’s ribs, keeping one hand still clamped over the corpse’s mouth and nose as he wiped the blade clean.
As the rest of the troop waited, Deglain was already moving. With Vaspret keeping watch for him, he brought a formidable pair of blacksmith’s pincers to bear on the chain threaded through the gate. He leant all his strength to the task and the link he’d chosen gave way with a sharp crack. Everyone froze but no alarm roused among the oblivious huts.
Vaspret signalled and the rest of the men ran up to vanish inside the gates. Halice watched the distant fire, noting a sharp cry within the stockade followed by sudden hysterical weeping, both sounds silenced moments later. The first of Vaspret’s men reappeared, encouraging the more able prisoners, no need to impress upon them the necessity of speed and stealth. They vanished into the black night before the first cries came from a sentry, the startled man silhouetted by the fire at his back. As Vaspret’s men dragged and carried more of the prisoners away, commotion boiled up among the pirates’ shelters and tents. Vaspret was the last out, an unconscious woman slung over one shoulder.
Halice made a silent bet that she had been the one threatening hysterics. She took a few paces forward, drawing herself to her full height, sword catching the light as she lofted it for all the world like some hero from a ballad penned by a minstrel who’d never so much as lifted a dagger. The pirates were coming on now, some hesitating as to whether they should head for her or the stockade. Minare made that debate irrelevant as the mercenaries lying in wait unseen crashed into the raiders, taking full murderous advantage of their surprise.
“How are we doing?” Halice shouted to Vaspret as he passed her. The time for silence was emphatically past as the clash of steel and cries of pain roused Muredarch’s entire contingent.
“Just hold them off till we can get to the boats.” Vaspret halted as he heard battle cries more suited to the Lescari wars.
“If we can.” Halice watched as pirates by the huts and tents began massing for a more coherent attack. They hastily abandoned that ambition as a new attack came howling in to scatter them.
Vaspret chuckled. “A good man, that Darni.”
“Too good to leave out of this fun.” Halice slapped Vaspret’s unburdened shoulder. “Get those boats loaded.”
Vaspret vanished into the darkness and Halice heard a resounding voice bellowing, the mighty figure of Muredarch appearing for an instant in the light of the watch fire. With him to rally them, the raiders regrouped with more speed and efficiency than she’d have liked.
She looked to see how heavily Minare’s men were engaged and tried to judge how Darni’s troop was faring from the familiar noises of battle raging on the far side of the encampment. It was time to spite Muredarch before he got his men rallied for a counter attack.
“Withdraw!” Halice bellowed. Minare’s men and women kicked and hacked with redoubled ferocity to free themselves. Mercenaries ran past her, taking the most direct line to the unseen boats. Pirates cheered and jeered, some running ahead of the rest, naked swords silver slashes in the darkness as a few of Kellarin’s men lagged behind, their lack of experience telling.
“To me!” Halice yelled and a handful of mercenaries instinctively swerved to join their commander, racing back to fall upon the foremost pirates.
The first lost his head entirely to a sideways sweep of Deglain’s broadsword, his blood showering the startled Glane. The boy let his sword point drop and was nearly run through by a second raider who’d seen enough death not to mourn his erstwhile comrade. Peyt’s thrust pierced the pirate’s shoulder and sent the man stumbling backwards. Glane slashed with an edge of panic and the man dropped screaming and pawing at his shattered jaw and a gaping gash in his neck. Peyt finished the man with a thrust through one eye, standing on the corpse’s chest to pull his sword free and leaving a bloody footprint clearly visible on the dead pirate’s pale shirt.
“Come on!” roared Halice as Glane stumbled towards her, eyes rimmed with white, blood soaking all down one side, shaken beyond reason by the claustrophobic mayhem of battle. She ran to grab him by the arm, dragging him along. “Are you hurt?”
“They killed Reddig,” the boy gasped. “Cut him open like a hog.”
“Move before they do the same to you.” Halice shoved him towards the shore, turning back to see more pirates charging across the open ground, Muredarch’s shouts driving them on.
A deadly hail rained down. Some died before they hit the ground, shafts clean through heads and bodies. Others collapsed with shrieks of pain, clutching legs or arms torn by razor sharp arrowheads. A second volley came hissing out of the darkness of the far side of the strait as Rosarn and her archers drew down a storm of arrows between the raiders and their unexpected foes. Here and there, crossbow bolts knocked those unlucky enough to present tempting targets clean off their feet.
“Vas!” Halice yelled. “Are we done?” Rosarn wouldn’t have too many arrows left by now.
Vaspret’s reply was lost as a new commotion erupted on the far side of the landing. Halice couldn’t make out what was happening. “Allin!” She backed towards the longboats, balancing speed with the need to not fall on her own arse.
“Yes?” Allin appeared at her side, her voice quavering.
“Time to try that new trick of yours,” said Halice, voice calm and reassuring as she held out her hand.
Allin drew a deep breath. She gripped the mercenary commander’s fingers with surprising strength and that same obscure sensation crawled over Halice’s palm before sinking deep into her bones.
“Thanks.” Halice raised a hand to block the glow of the watch fire and stared into the darkness on the far side of the landing. “Oh, piss on that!”
“What is it?” Allin’s voice was tight with fear.
“Men were sleeping on Den Harkeil’s hulk and the Tang. They’ve cut Darni off from his boats.” Halice broke off to knuckle her eyes as fire arrows arched across the strait.
Vaspret came running up. “That’s Ros done, Commander and we’re ready to go.”
Halice nodded. “Back to the boat, lass.”
“What’s happening to Darni’s troop?” The mage-girl didn’t move.
“Get behind me.” Halice held her sword ready as her troop retreated to their boats. Pirates moved closer, wary now. Caution would hold these ones for a few moments longer, Halice judged. All the foolishly bold were dead or bleeding on the scarred and stained turf.
“He’s retreating into the woods and we’re leaving.” All colour was leached out of the curious half vision the magic bestowed but Halice had watched enough skirmishes to understand what she saw. It was the obvious thing to do and Darni had the sense to see it. What Halice couldn’t see was the uneven ground at her feet with the magic enhancing her sight and she nearly fell. “Undo this spell,” she barked.
The startled wizard slapped Halice’s face. Ignoring the sting, the mercenary grabbed Allin and ran with her for the boats, the little mage taking two or three paces to every one of Halice’s. They scrambled into the last boat still on the shore, the others already out in the strait. Sobs and heartfelt, exhausted gratitude mingled with the brisk shouts of the mercenaries organising themselves.
“Is everyone accounted for?” yelled Halice as their boat pushed off. A chorus of confirmation from banner sergeants answered her.
“They’re coming.” Rosarn’s archers stood in their boat to loose a final volley of arrows as pirates came running down to the waterline. Yelps and curses were lost beneath the splash of oars biting deep into the water.