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Chapter 8



“What do you mean, raiders?” Rada asked.

“Multiple paltans on horseback, at least two, moving fast,” Karno warned.

Rada stood next to the giant Protector on the balcony, so they were sharing the same sweeping view of the Vadal countryside, except all she could see were farms and fields, not a hundred mounted soldiers. Though she knew Karno somehow had the eyes of a hawk and her vision was terrible, even if a witch hunter hadn’t smashed her last pair of glasses, she should have been able to see a bunch of galloping horses.

“Where?”

Karno leaned his bulk against the rail and squinted into the distance. Even hunched over, the Protector still towered over her, like a great shaggy bear standing on its hind legs. It wasn’t that Rada was short either, it was just that Karno was that imposing and in comparison made everyone look tiny.

He pointed. “There.”

All she could make out was a bit of dust cloud, rising above a distant farming village. “How do you know that’s not Jagdish and his men returning from their raid into Sarnobat?”

“The locals would be cheering. Not screaming…” It was eerie how good a Protector’s hearing could be at times. Their ears were as unnatural as their eyes. “They’re headed straight toward us.”

Despite the impending border war, Jagdish’s estate had been a peaceful place the entire time she had been hiding here. It took a moment for the dire news to become real. “We’re under attack?”

“About to be.” Karno turned and walked away, pausing only long enough to pick up the war hammer he’d taken from Jagdish’s armory. “I will alert the guards. Warn the servants, then find a place to hide until I come get you.”

“Oceans.” Rada hurried after him. She had read about raids but had never dreamed she would be on the receiving end of one. Raids were common. Warriors of one house would strike out against the holdings of another, with results ranging from mild harassment, to looting, to hostage taking for ransom, to vicious bloodthirsty murder. The Law supposedly placed limits on how often such events could occur, and how violent they could be, but she had been warned that such prohibitions were often forgotten in the heat of the moment, or outright ignored. Such were the rough traditions of the warrior caste.

“Are we in danger?”

“Yes.”

They didn’t call him Blunt Karno without reason.

Despite Jagdish’s estate being near the border with aggressive Sarnobat, it had been peaceful the entire time she had been staying here. There was a Vadal garrison nearby, and raiders liked to travel fast and hit softer targets than a phontho’s walled estate. Only Jagdish and most of his troops were off, striking into Sarnobat territory again, at Harta’s orders. They had left several days ago. Rada didn’t know exactly how many men Jagdish had left guarding the estate, but if Karno’s instincts were accurate—and they always seemed to be—her hosts would be drastically outnumbered.

Rada tried to remain calm and remember everything she had read on the subject of raids. Regulations had been set down by the judges pertaining to border skirmishes between the warrior caste of the great houses, specifically concerning what sorts of activities were allowed or disallowed. This was to prevent excess depravity or economic disruption. Except when she’d mentioned these rules of raiding over dinner one night in an attempt to spark conversation, the warriors had laughed at her naïveté, and Jagdish had told her that Sarnobat was a very long way from the Capitol.

She should have known better than to focus on the official documents of scholars rather than the firsthand accounts of the subject. There was a whole section in the Library chronicling raids between houses, and many of those accounts made for a rather shocking read. Raids were often bloody and violent. There was usually murder and looting. Sometimes arson and worse. Much worse.

“There are children here, Karno. What about little Pari?”

“They will not kill her.”

“Oh good!”

“A phontho’s child demands too great a ransom. They’ll kidnap her and kill everyone else. Remain calm, Rada. We have weathered worse than this. Keep your head and you will survive.”

The guest quarters were on the third floor but overlooked the central garden. She saw one of the maids walking along below, carrying a basket of laundry, and shouted at her. “Raiders are coming to slay us all! Hide the children! Take up your swords! What are you waiting for? Run! Go!

The maid dropped the clothing and ran away screaming.

Karno sighed, then started down the stairs. “The raiders are riding horses, not the wind. We have time to prepare. Try not to panic the staff until then.”

“Sorry.” Very few people could be as unperturbable as Karno. Rada had seen more bloodshed over the last year than most members of her caste would see over their lifetime, but she couldn’t imagine being as nonchalant about it as Karno. He engaged in battle as casually as most men ate breakfast. Then she remembered her other obligation: “The mirror!” And rushed back to her quarters to retrieve it.

The artifact that had been entrusted to her by Vikram Akershan of the Historians Order was locked in a heavy wooden chest that she had requested from Jagdish. If raiders made it inside the mansion, they’d surely assume a chest like that was filled with treasure and smash it open or carry it off, and then find themselves the luckiest raiders ever because black steel was the most valuable thing in the world.

She unlocked the chest with a key she kept on a chain around her neck. The leather satchel was right where she had left it. She never ever let the thing inside see the light of day. The last time the mirror had been freed it had eaten a witch hunter’s arm. A fact that made her extremely nervous carrying it about, but she had made a vow to keep it from falling into evil hands, and a Senior Archivist would never shirk an obligation. So Rada picked it up and slung the satchel over one shoulder.

She didn’t even know what the frightening thing was for, but a vow was a vow.

The only other item in the chest was a sheathed dagger, which Karno had taken from an Inquisitor who no longer needed it, on account of Karno having murdered him. Members of the first caste often carried decorative knives on their person for ceremonial purposes, but this was a real weapon, long, with a wicked point designed to pierce vital organs and an edge for flaying flesh and opening arteries.

Rada snatched the dagger up and took it with her. She was no warrior, but she had tried to defend herself with a blade before. Hopefully such behavior would not be necessary again today, because the last time she’d stabbed someone it had not gone well for her at all.

Thakoor Harta Vadal had kept her in his great house in Vadal City as something between guest and prisoner. She’d spent that time trying to ingratiate herself to Harta in the hopes that he wouldn’t hand her off to the Inquisitors as soon as it benefitted him politically. After a witch hunter had broken in and tried to take her, the only place she could think of to hide in Vadal lands was the household of a noble warrior she’d once saved from Harta’s wrath. Jagdish had proven himself an honorable man who took great joy in repaying his debts—and who had no qualms about concealing her existence from his Thakoor—so the estate had served as her recent, and hopefully temporary, home.

Except now it appeared Rada had merely traded politicians and witch hunters for raiders. “Just my rotten luck,” she muttered as she ran for the door.

The phontho’s suite took up the entirety of the fourth floor. Jagdish was currently off doing warrior business, but that was where his child and nursemaid would probably be. Sure enough, Raveena was inside playing with Pari. The little girl was so adorable that it indicated Jagdish’s late wife must have been quite beautiful. Jagdish rarely spoke of his wife, and when he did he became rather morose about it, for he had not been widowed long.

“Good morning, Rada.” Raveena was a plump and motherly woman, and though she was only of the worker caste, the two of them had enjoyed many pleasant conversations since Rada had been a guest here. “You look flushed. What’s wrong, child?”

“We’ve got to hide. Raiders are coming.”

Raveena blinked a few times in surprise. “You’re sure?”

“Karno is.”

“Master Jagdish said if the large one says something is true, then it is true.” Without hesitation, Raveena scooped up Pari and wrapped her in a blanket. She was clearly frightened but was so experienced and gentle that Pari never even stopped smiling and giggling. “He also said if raiders are spotted we are to go to the root cellar.”

“Why there?”

“It is the hardest place to set on fire.”

“Oh.” Rada hadn’t even thought about them burning the house down.

As they hurried downstairs, Raveena gave terse warnings to the other servants, and she managed to be more articulate about it than Rada had been. Raveena had several children of her own, but her last had been stillborn, so she had been obligated to be the nursemaid of the new phontho. “What of my family? They live outside the walls.”

“I think the estate’s their target.”

“That is good.”

Of course a mother would feel better about her own life being in danger as long as her children were safe, but that didn’t make Rada feel any more fortunate.

By the time they reached the ground floor, the entire household was in turmoil from the alarm. Workers and house slaves were hurrying about, attending to various responsibilities, which mostly appeared to be filling and staging water buckets, and removing anything flammable away from the windows.

“What Jagdish said about harder to set on fire…”

“That is the Sarnobat way: what they can’t take, they burn. They put my whole village to the torch when I was young.”

Of course Raveena knew firsthand how this dreadful business worked. She was a low-status worker in a borderland. Her life had been spent in the shadow of the house of the wolf. None of this was new or unexpected to these people. Vicious raiders were simply a part of life. Rada had grown up in the Capitol, which none dared threaten, so it was perfectly sensible for her to be feeling overwhelmed right then. That logical conclusion didn’t help make her any less sweaty or nauseous, however.

All the shouting and banging of buckets upset little Pari and she began to wail. Something about a baby’s cry made the whole situation far more frightening.

Through one of the windows she saw that Karno had informed the warriors, because they were assembling in the yard in front of the barracks to quickly and efficiently help one another into their armor. Unfortunately she only saw about a dozen of them. There were always a few manning the walls and gate, but even accounting for those, the Vadal men would be drastically outnumbered.

The kitchen staff had been preparing breakfast when the alarm had been raised. Ovens blazed and pots simmered, forgotten. Raveena grabbed up handfuls of naan to take with her as they passed through the kitchen. “If we’re to hide, might as well not do it hungry.” Then she spied a bottle of wine and took it as well. “Or thirsty.”

Just outside the kitchen door was the earthen mound that covered the estate’s root cellar. Raveena started down the steps with Pari, but Rada hesitated at the top.

“What are you doing?”

Rada honestly didn’t know. “I should be helping.”

The nursemaid tried to speak over the baby who kept screaming at her, but in a comforting tone that designed to sooth Pari’s nerves…and perhaps Rada’s as well. “This isn’t for you, Rada. The first caste doesn’t soil their hands. Let Master Jagdish’s warriors do their duty. You’ll just be in the way. Come down here, and you can help me distract Pari until it is over.”

Of course she knew Rada was born of high status. Though Jagdish had kept their identities secret, and merely told his servants that she and Karno were to be treated as honored guests, it would have been harder for an elephant to hide its trunk than for Rada to disguise her upbringing.

“Don’t worry. I’ll send someone to protect you and Pari.”

“Don’t do that! Having warriors guard a door just tells the raiders there is something valuable on the other side. Now come on if you don’t want to get killed.”

She couldn’t explain it, but despite her fear, the idea of cowering in a dark hole in the ground because of these ruffians…offended her. “I’ll join you later.”

“My oldest is nearly your age. I can tell when she is lying about doing something foolish too. Try to be safe. We’ll be fine.”

Rada bent down and kissed little Pari on the forehead to say goodbye.

She ran through the courtyard toward where the warriors were preparing. It was a simple place by the standards she was accustomed to, but it was clean, and filled with fruit trees that provided plenty of shade. Normally a nice, calm place to read, the courtyard was now alive with nervous energy. Men were stringing bows and gathering arrows. A single officer was pacing back and forth, giving instructions and occasionally grabbing hold of a soldier’s armor and shaking it to make sure everything was fastened correctly. A crew of workers were drawing water from the well and dumping it on the wooden roofs of the barracks and the stables. The dogs in the kennel had sensed the nervousness and begun barking.

A lookout atop the roof of the house finally confirmed what Karno had sensed long before and began shouting about the enemy’s direction and numbers. “One hundred—no! Two hundred! Maybe more!”

Most of the warriors seemed terrified, but others seemed excited, almost eager. The officer started shouting about what an incredible chance this would be for glory. Rada’s recent travels had introduced her to many warriors but she knew she would never truly understand the mindset of men who would look upon such impossible odds with joy.

As she walked through the courtyard, looking for an opportunity to help, Karno saw her and approached. From the stomp of his heavy feet she could tell he was angry. “I told you to hide.”

“I’m going to help defend this place.”

“It’s too dangerous.” Karno didn’t even slow down. His meaty hand easily wrapped all the way around her upper arm as he began guiding her back toward the house. “I gave them early warning. It is up to them what happens next. We must leave before this place is surrounded.”

“No.” Obstinate, Rada planted her feet. He was going to have to drag her. Not that such a feat would be difficult for him, but she hoped Karno would spare her that indignity.

Karno stopped and looked around to make sure nobody else was close enough to overhear them. “This is no game, Senior Archivist. As far as I know this is a legal raid. A Protector should not interfere. My obligation is to keep you alive.”

“And you’ve done a splendid job so far. Only Jagdish has given us his hospitality when we had nowhere else to turn. I will not honor that by running away while his home is burned and his servants slaughtered. I might not be a warrior, but I can carry a water bucket.”

Karno’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment Rada expected him to just toss her over one shoulder and carry her back to the root cellar, but then he let go of her arm. “You are certainly no longer the sheltered librarian I met in the Capitol.”

“It has been a rather eventful year. Come on, Karno. You hate running away.”

“If I fight in front of these witnesses, then they will know what I truly am. Harta Vadal will hear of a Protector here soon after. Either way, our time here is done.”

“You’re terrible at being dishonest anyway.”

Karno’s brow furrowed. To a Protector, the Law was everything, and that Law said this fight was not his affair to meddle in. However, Rada believed with all her heart that Karno was a man of honor, beyond just what the Law mandated.

“So what do we do now, Protector?”

To his credit Karno never took very long to make a decision. Once a path was set, there was no hesitation. He started walking toward the main gate. “During the battle do exactly as I say so I won’t have to explain your death to the Lord Protector.”

“I’m sure Devedas would understand.”

“No. He would not.”

Karno approached the lone officer, who was older than expected, bald of head and gray of beard. Rada recognized that the shiny new patch sewn on his faded blue uniform meant he was a risalder, a relatively low rank who would normally lead a paltan of approximately fifty men, even though there were fewer than half of that here.

The risalder looked over, and up, at Karno. “Sorry. I’ve got no time for the phontho’s guests right now. Please return to the house and—”

“I am Protector of the Law, nineteen-year senior, Karno Uttara.”

The risalder scowled. “Phontho Jagdish told us you two were tax collectors.” Rada hadn’t been certain what Jagdish had told his men about his guests, but that explained why the soldiers had mostly avoided them. “Aren’t Protectors supposed to be in shining silver armor, with a golden token of the Law, riding around on war elephants?”

“It’s a long story,” Rada said. “They don’t actually use elephants, though—”

Karno held up one hand to stop Rada. “Believe or do not. I will demonstrate who I am when the enemy arrives.”

The risalder squinted, suspicious, but he was no fool. “Well, the tax collectors I’ve seen previously have been more weasel, less bull, so I assumed you were some manner of warrior, but who was I to question the word of noble Jagdish? I am Havildar—” He caught himself and corrected the rank. “Risalder Kutty.”

“Congratulations on your promotion.”

“Thank you. I got it just in time for us to get massacred. Assuming you are who you claim to be, how can I be of assistance, Protector?”

“I will assist you.” Karno nodded toward where the lookout was still shouting from the roof of the mansion. “If he sees two hundred horses, there will only be half that many riders.”

“I agree. They probably crossed the border overnight. It’s the only way so many wouldn’t get spotted. If they’ve made it this far over the border since dawn, they’ve been changing mounts. They must have been waiting across the border and had spies tell them when our main force left. I don’t know how they snuck past our scouts. Sarnobat normally don’t strike this deep. They move fast and light, kill who they can, take what they can, set the rest ablaze, and then run before Vadal counters. Phontho Jagdish has been such a thorn in their side since he got here, burning his home would be quite the feat.”

Karno shook his head. “There is more prestige in taking hostages than leaving ash.”

“Our walls will hold them,” Kutty replied, with forced confidence.

“Twelve feet of plastered brick will barely slow them. Sarnobat raids Kharsawan constantly, and in that house your wall wouldn’t be considered a fence sufficient to pen in sheep. They will attack from multiple angles, distracting us with fire arrows, then use hooks and rope to scale the walls.”

“Sounds like you’ve fought Sarnobat before.”

“Only their criminals, but I have brothers who were obligated from the house of the wolf. I am familiar with their methods.”

Rada felt useless just standing there while Karno and Kutty conspired, so when she saw a group of workers hauling heavy rocks up the ladders so the soldiers would have more projectiles to hurl down, she went to help them. A couple of years ago a few minutes of handling rough stone would have left her delicate hands bleeding, but that was before her journey of survival and evasion had forced her to toughen up. Dealing with horse ropes and camping in the desert had robbed her palms of their softness. Still, she was nearly useless compared to the hardy worker folk, who had calluses from laboring their entire lives, but Rada found doing something kept her mind off the impending danger.

A short time later, the howls began.

Books had taught her those sounds were how the raiders of Sarnobat gave orders, and they practiced from childhood so that they could be heard over the noise of battle and hoofbeats, but hearing it in person taught her it was so much worse than that. The noises seemed inhuman. The howl of Sarnobat wasn’t just for them to communicate with one another, but to terrify their prey. They were only men, yet it was unnerving, causing a visceral feeling like she was being stalked by a pack of animals that wanted to tear her apart and eat her flesh. She dropped her last rock on the pile and then rushed to find Karno.

He was atop the wall, near the main gate, so she climbed up the nearest ladder and moved carefully down the narrow walkway toward him.

The raiders were clearly visible now, having slowed their mounts to a walk, spreading out as they crossed the grassy pasture toward the estate. Their armor was dark beneath the bright Vadal sun. Their cloaks were brown, better to hide them against the ground, and many of them wore pelts over their shoulders or helms.

There were so many of them. And as she looked down the wall, Vadal had so very few in comparison. Maybe she should have listened to Karno.

Karno had armed himself with a bow that was nearly as long as she was tall. A great pile of arrows had been set before him, as well as several javelins. The war hammer was resting at his feet. He was still dressed in the basic, unadorned attire of a worker. She assumed the warriors here had no armor that could fit a man of his bulk.

Unlike Rada, Karno seemed completely at ease. “This wall is no place for you, Rada.”

“I wanted to see first.” Because she had only ever seen him hit people and things with various hammers, she asked, “Do you know how to use a bow?”

“It is not my preferred method, but a Protector is trained to an expert level with every type of arm.” Karno pulled back the string just a bit. “This one was sitting in their armory, unused, because none of these men here are strong enough to draw it. Kutty said it was taken from the Sarnobat on a raid. No one else in Lok uses bows like this.”

About half the raiders were dismounting. The ones on horseback seemed content to wait, while the dismounts formed lines. It was difficult for Rada’s poor eyesight to discern what they were doing from so far away, but a few of them appeared to be lighting torches.

One of the Vadal soldiers launched an arrow their way, but it fell far short of the Sarnobat archers. Risalder Kutty immediately began berating that man for wasting arrows, and to hold until they were in range.

“Go now,” Karno warned. She moved back toward the ladder, but then Karno suddenly shouted, “Get down!”

Rada crouched behind the parapet as arrows began to fall from the sky. As the shafts hit the bricks she was stunned at how much force the impacts had, even at this range. Their lookout screamed and fell from the mansion’s roof, tumbling and rolling, until he went over the edge and fell into the courtyard.

“Their range is greater than I assumed. It is too late to move now. Stay close to the wall and you will not be struck.”

Karno smoothly drew back the bowstring. Wood creaked with building energy, and he let fly when his fingers reached his cheek. The arrow went whistling away. Rada risked looking over the bricks to see the results. He must have missed as no one fell or cried out in pain, but it must have landed close because some of the Sarnobat archers shouted with surprise as they learned someone among the Vadal was able to match them in range.

“I am out of practice,” Karno muttered as he took up another arrow.

Next came the fire arrows. They made an eerie noise as they passed overhead, crackling and fluttering. Many flaming projectiles landed in the courtyard. Some hit wooden structures, but those were immediately set upon by workers and their buckets. Whatever the arrowheads were wrapped in didn’t want to quit burning, even after behind doused. But even as the workers fought those, Rada could see that the Sarnobat were preparing another volley of the things. A man with a torch ran down the line of archers, and as he passed by arrows ignited behind him.

She realized that Karno was tracking the one with the torch, bow elevated, leading him just a bit. Then the borrowed weapon released with a mighty twang. It was impossible for Rada’s eyes to follow the flight of the arrow, but suddenly the man lighting the enemy fire arrows flopped face-first into the grass.

“Better,” Karno said as he picked up another arrow from his pile.

The raiders clearly didn’t like being matched. A commander barked an order and a few more men dismounted. Other torches were struck. Someone howled, and he was answered by two more slightly different animal noises from among the riders. Suddenly horsemen broke from each side, riding hard toward different sections of the wall.

More fire arrows landed inside the estate. A stack of hay next to the stables was struck and immediately caught. Pockmarks of flame appeared on the mansion walls. A hunting dog in the kennel yelped. A worker was struck in the back, and before his friends could help him, his shirt was afire. She could only see so much of the courtyard through the trees, but warriors were bellowing in pain just out of view, as they were pierced or scorched.

Karno went to work, quickly and steadily working his way through his supply of arrows. She noted that they were different from those the Vadal soldiers had in their quivers—longer, and with red fletching instead of gray feathers. The pull of that mighty bow was probably greater than Rada’s body weight, but Karno kept launching arrows with methodical efficiency. His right hand would move back to his cheek, release, and a moment later another archer would be swept off his feet, or a rider would die in his saddle.

“They see me now. Stay low. Climb down. Go.”

Splinters dug into Rada’s palms as she crawled away.

Now that the Sarnobat had located Karno, they concentrated on his position. Many flaming arrows hit the parapet near him, burning with an oily hiss. He let fly, then reached out and caught a fire arrow an instant before it would have hit his chest. Spinning it about in his fingers, he nocked it to his own bow and returned it to the Sarnobat. One of the raiders screamed as he caught on fire.

Despite the workers’ efforts, several parts of the estate had erupted in flames. Obscuring smoke filled the air. Hot embers were flying. Rada yelped as one struck her on the neck. Some workers formed a bucket brigade to fight the fires that had erupted in the stables, as others hurried to free the horses. The upset animals only added to the chaos. The smoke made it difficult for the defenders to see and breathe. Any Vadal warrior who looked over the wall immediately had extremely accurate arrows launched his way. It was forcing them to keep their heads down as the Sarnobat on horseback closed the distance in order to scale the walls.

If it weren’t so terrifying it would have been fascinating. If she lived she would have to write up an account of this for the Library.

Vadal warriors would stand and hurriedly send an arrow, before ducking back down. A mere ten feet away a warrior rose, searching for a target. She didn’t even see the arrow that hit him, it was so fast. One moment he was fine, the next an arrow appeared in his neck. He sank to his knees and looked right at her—through her—surprised, seeming almost apologetic. He tried to say something, but she couldn’t hear the words. If there even were words. Blood came out of his mouth.

Rada scrambled to the warrior. She pushed her hands against the red river gushing from his neck. She could feel each pulse. She had read the surgeons’ books on anatomy, but this was not like the books. Not at all. All she could do was try to hold the blood inside. It came out anyway.

Move now.

She thought that warning came from Karno. So she immediately did as she was told, and scrambled past the dying warrior. A moment later a flaming arrow fell out of the sky to strike the plank where she’d been.

Except when she looked back toward Karno to shout her thanks, he was preoccupied, and hadn’t even been looking her way.

There were hoofbeats right on the other side of the wall! She could feel the vibration through her hands and knees. There was a terrible clang next to her head, and she instinctively flinched away from the noise. The device that had made that sound consisted of four metal hooks, and was attached to a stout cord. Suddenly the cord was pulled tight, scraping the hooks along the walkway until they struck the parapet and caught.

All along this side of the estate, more hooks were flying over the wall.

The raiders were climbing. The Vadal warriors hacked at the ropes or threw the rocks she’d helped stack over the side, but there were far more hooks than defenders, and Sarnobat men began swarming over the top. Now that they were closer she realized that their faces and arms were painted all in dark colors, only each face was split by a bright red line marked across both eyes.

She’d let herself get distracted. Karno had told her to climb down, but now it was too late as a painted raider scrambled over the parapet only a few feet away. She tried to draw her dagger, but her hands were slippery with Vadal blood. She could barely breathe from the terror. The raider’s movements were smooth, practiced, nearly effortless as he vaulted over the top. His boots struck the wood right in front of her, and he was already drawing his sword.

Drop.

It was the strangest thing: In that brief instant as the raider raised his blade to end her life, the word wasn’t shouted in her ear, it was in her head, and it was accompanied by an image of her rolling over the edge.

She did as she was told.

There was just enough time for flailing terror before she hit the ground. Only rather than a bone-shattering thud, there was a splash. The water slowed her the tiniest bit before her body hit the bottom of the horse trough. Such luck! She’d not even known that was there.

Gasping, she broke the surface, and flopped gracelessly over the side into the dirt. She still hurt from the impact, but bruised was preferable to broken.

Above her, the raider was trying to wrench his sword tip from where he’d planted it in the wood where she had been lying, but before he got it free, Karno hurled a javelin through him.

“Are you alright?” Karno shouted.

“I’m fine.” Then she shrieked as the raider who’d been pierced through the heart hit the ground next to the trough.

“Stay below me.” Karno returned to the fight.

In the shadow of the wall, at least she would be safe from arrows. The stables had turned into a roaring inferno. Panicked horses were running through the orchard. The Vadal soldiers were fighting valiantly to hold their positions, but they were too outnumbered, and everywhere she looked more raiders were making it over the walls. They’d taken one of the gates!

Rada drew her dagger and clutched it near her chest with shaking hands, fervently wishing that she had listened to Raveena.

“Fall back to the house!” Risalder Kutty bellowed. “Move! Move!”

Karno leapt down. It was remarkable that a man so large could land so softly. He had the bow and several arrows in one hand, the hammer in the other. He held the fearsome war hammer out toward her. “Hold this.”

Rada took the heavy thing and then flinched when she saw the end of it was covered in blood, hair, and other organic bits. Pity the unfortunate raider who had tried to scale the part of the wall guarded by Blunt Karno!

The Vadal warriors were running, but Karno walked, calm and with purpose, pausing occasionally to send another raider into the endless nothing with an arrow. Rada stayed right behind him. She had experienced violence before, but never anything like this. She’d been threatened, chased, and beaten, but real battle was so far beyond her understanding that it was difficult to comprehend what was going on here. There was so much noise and death. Courage and rage. The peaceful courtyard ran red with blood.

Somehow several raiders had gotten between them and the mansion. The two of them were cut off.

Karno extended one hand back toward her. “Hammer.” She slapped it into his palm.

Then the Protector showed the men of Sarnobat what real terror looked like.

The first raider never saw the blow coming. His head simply ruptured like squeezing an overripe fruit. Each time Karno swung that hammer another man was crippled or killed. He blocked sword thrusts with the haft, dodged swings, and each time he repaid Sarnobat with splintered bones or split skulls.

Rada knew that Protectors were somehow more than human, and she had seen Karno fight before, but never like this. Against normal men, it seemed Karno only did enough to stop them, and did not delight in shedding their blood. Against witch hunters, Karno held back nothing because they had magic of their own. This was worse. This was the full fury of the Protector Order, only applied against regular mortal flesh.

Armored chest plates did nothing when struck by a hammer so hard that the ribs on the other side exploded. Karno sent bodies flying away. Men bounced off tree trunks. Within the span of a few heartbeats, several of Sarnobat’s bravest were broken and dying, and they didn’t even have time to realize how.

Attack left.

The mysterious words were accompanied by a flashing image of a spear being thrust into Karno’s spine, and this time she understood that the warning was coming from inside the satchel hanging at her side.

Rada glanced over her shoulder to see a raider running toward Karno, spear leveled, just like the terrible vision, and she reacted without thought. Lashing out with her dagger, she slashed the spearman across the forearm. Snarling, he turned, and she didn’t even see the back end of the spear whipping around. The dense wood smashed into her shoulder. Tiny in comparison to the warrior, the blow swatted her to ground. The side of her head hit a tree root, leaving her stunned.

Karno turned just in time to see her get hit. Normally he fought with an eerie calm, but for the first time a snarl split his face. The Sarnobat warrior looked up just in time to see death coming. Karno hit him so hard that it tore his head from his shoulders. It bounced off the wall and rolled a bit before the body remembered to topple.

The world was spinning and Rada was in so much pain that it was hard to tell what happened next. Karno’s display must have broken the nearby Sarnobat’s will, because those remaining between them and the mansion fled. Then Karno lifted her into his arms and carried her toward the mansion. Arrows streaked past. Some were embedded deep into the bark as Karno ran between the trees. The impact of an arrow into flesh made a far different noise from hitting bark, and Karno staggered.

They crashed through some berry bushes. He got them behind cover before dropping her, then winced as he reached toward the shaft impaled deep in his side. “Ah.” It was rare to see Karno show that he was capable of experiencing pain.

“Karno!”

None of the Protectors ever spoke about the strange powers their Order granted them, but Rada had reasoned out a few things for herself. They could recover from ghastly wounds that would kill a man, or they could see like eagles, or jump like tigers, or fight like legends…but she didn’t think they could do more than one of those things at once. If he fought with the inhuman intensity he had before, he would surely bleed to death. If he used his magic to heal, then the Sarnobat would kill him anyway.

“Can you run?” Karno asked.

The blow had left her dizzy, but the spinning was getting slower. “Yes.”

He peered back through the bushes, calculating. Raiders were approaching, cautiously, bows readied. “I’ll draw their attention. Then get through the workers’ gate to the south. They didn’t attack that side. Hide in the fields until they leave.”

“I can’t abandon you again!” she cried.

“I cannot abandon my obligation.”

Karno had already demonstrated he was willing to sacrifice his life to save hers. Truly, he was a righteous man. Rada grabbed hold of the satchel. “The mirror can help! It talked to me a moment ago.”

He just stared at her, as if thinking she must have hit her head much harder than expected.

“Come on, Karno. We should try to get to the mansion. Together, we could make it.”

“That is the fire Devedas sent me to protect. But no.” Karno showed affection about as often as he showed pain, but he reached out and put one bloody hand to take hers. “Feel no shame for Red Lake. We all have our duty. Yours is to survive.”

Suddenly, one of the raiders upon the wall let out one of their animal calls. Only this one sounded different from the others. From the panicked tone, it was a cry of alarm. Danger was coming.

One of the Vadal warriors who was upon the mansion’s balcony pointed toward the east. “Jagdish returns!”


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Framed