Arrow's Fall
put the village in an unassailable valley; sheer rock to our back and sides, and only one narrow pass that let into it. We couldn’t be starved or forced out from thirst; we had our own wells, and plenty of food stockpiled. Well, they had an answer to that. A handful of them killed the sentries, and poisoned the dogs that patrolled the heights, then rained fire arrows down on the village by night. We build with wood and thatch, mostly; the buildings went up like pitch torches. The rest waited outside the pass, and picked off those of us that got as far as the cleft. Have you ever seen rabbits running before a grass fire? That was us—and they were the hungry wolves waiting for dinner to leap into their jaws. Men I’ve known all my life I watched getting their legs shot out from underneath them. Children hardly old enough to be wearing knives, too—even graybeards and grannies. Anybody likely to be able to take up a weapon. They shot to cripple, not to kill; dead mouths can’t tell where they’ve hid their little treasures, y’see. A good half of those they shot may never walk right again. A good quarter bled to death where they lay. And a full quarter of the children burned to death in the houses they set fire to.”
    A muted murmur of horror crept around the table; Lady Kester hid her own face in her hands.
    A beam of late afternoon sunlight spotlighted the speaker as it poured in through the high windows. It touched him with a clear gold that made his eyes seem even more like burned-out pits in his face. “Your Heralds were not far; overnighting in a Waystation, I think. How they knew our plight, I’ll never know—must’ve been more of your magic, I guess. They came charging up on the backs of the raiders, two of ‘em like a blessed army. Those white horses—the Companions—they were damn near an army by themselves. They broke up the ambush at the head of the pass, got them scattered off into the woods for a bit. Then the older one started getting us organized, got us clearing the snipers off the heights; the younger one took off into the burning buildings, hearing cries and looking for somebody to save, I guess. The older one didn’t even notice she was gone— until—”
    He swallowed hard, and his hands were shaking. “I heard screaming, worse than before; the older Herald, she jerked like she’d been shot. She shouted at us to take the brigands before they got themselves over their fright, then she headed into the fires herself; I followed-—my hands were too burned to hold a weapon, but I thought I might be able to help with the fires. The younger one had gotten trapped on the second floor of one of the houses; I was right behind the older one and I could see her against the fire. Calm as you please, she’s tossing younglings out to their parents. At least I think she was tossing ‘em—she’d have a little one in her hands one moment, then the next, his mum or dad would be holding it. The older one ran up, started shouting at her to jump. She just shook her head, and turned back one more time—the floor collapsed then. That damn horse of hers crashed through the wall and went in after her—the other Herald was right on his heels. She’d no sooner cleared the door when the whole roof caved in. We got her out, but the other—”
    One of Selenay’s pages brought him wine, and he drank it gratefully, his teeth chattering against the rim of the tankard.
    “That’s what happened. For us, we beat ‘em back, but we didn’t get more than a handful of them compared to the numbers we know they’ve got. They’re comin’ back, we know they are. ‘Specially since they must know the Heralds are—gone. We lost half the town—most of the able-bodied. I was about the only one that could make the ride here. We need help, Majesty, m’lords—we need it bad-”
    “You’ll have that help,” Selenay pledged, her eyes hard and black with anger as she stood. ‘This isn’t the first incursion of these

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