Firesong by William Nicholson

Kestrel called softly,
    ‘Take your places behind your brides.’
    Rufy Blesh led the way, showing the others what they were to do. He stood immediately behind Kestrel, who faced in to the ring, with her back to him. The other young men, following his example, found their places behind their brides, thus forming an outer ring.
    The cloud passed, and by the soft light of the returning moon Kestrel saw the faces of her companions: tense, fearful, but determined.
    ‘Are we ready?’
    She saw them nod: sensed the keen edge of anger in Sisi’s coiled body: and felt in herself a fierce bright thrill of passion. This is how warriors feel, she thought. This is how it feels to put your very life itself at stake.
    Kess! We’ve reached the door!
    Break the door! she called to her brother. Kill the watchman! We’re coming!
    Aloud she cried out,
    ‘Farewell to childhood!’
    She and Sisi, gentle Sarel Amos and chubby Seer Such, Red Mimilith and little Ashar Warmish, all turned at once, knives flashing in the moonlight. The young men of the Barra klin, taken entirely by surprise, did nothing to defend themselves from the furious stabbing blades. Bleeding, wounded, shocked, they fell to the deck, from where the women kicked and pushed them towards the ice-cold river.
    From the high rock steps came a crash and a scream, as Mumpo burst through the tunnel door and sent the watchman flying into the water far below.
    With that scream, Sisi began to scream. She was jabbing and jabbing with her meat knife into the man cowering at her feet.
    ‘You want a kiss?’ she screamed. ‘This is how I kiss!’
    Mumpo, Tanner Amos, and the Shim brothers were down the rock steps before the klin fathers, woken by the screams, had come out of their huts. Kestrel called to her friends,
    ‘Quick! Run! Don’t look back!’
    She led them over the narrow bridge, while Rufy brought up the rear, fighting off those of the wounded young men who still had the strength to pursue.
    ‘Up the steps! Make for the tunnel!’
    Mumpo and Tanner and the Shim brothers stood before the hut doors striking with fury at the men within as they attempted to fight their way out. Miller Marish and Lolo Mimilith caught up with the running women and ran with them, along the edge of the deck, towards the rock steps. Bowman remained on the rock shelf high above, waiting for his moment.
    Suddenly three men of the klin burst out through a side wall, smashing the timbers before them, and threw themselves, blades flashing, onto Rollo Shim. Rollo fell with an agonised cry, a long gash opening up down his back and thigh. Mumpo turned and struck, struck and danced and struck again, killing with each blow. He moved so effortlessly, seeming to melt before their swords, that they felt the hot cut of his blade before they saw him strike. Within moments all three were dying on the ground, and he was standing before the break in the wall holding back all who would follow.
    Tanner Amos and Bek Shim seized Rollo by either arm and dragged him away towards the steps. Mumpo held the gap in the wall for a few minutes longer, but now other gaps were appearing, on all sides, and the men of the klin were pouring out. Some moved close to surround Mumpo, while others loaded their sling shots to pick off the Manth fighters as they ran.
    Bowman saw the slingshots circling in the air, and concentrating all his mind’s strength, he tracked the stones as they flew, to send them glancing away against the rock walls.
    The young women were on the steps now, the Manth men racing close behind. The brief advantage of surprise was gone, as more and more men of the klin came streaming out into the open. More and more stones were flying, and Bowman could feel his powers draining away, even as Sarel Amos passed him on the high shelf and gained the cover of the tunnel, with the others close behind.
    Mumpo too was on the move now, but he was like a stag at bay, ringed by hounds. He leapt and struck, ducked and struck,