who taught him the trick. The man fell, the guard reached the ladder top, pushed it over. The Wolf fighting Rorik lowered his shield to block a chop at his leg; Harald shot him through the throat.
He took a long look around. The castle wall was clear of enemies. Rorik and the guardsman were on the back wall, bending over the body of another of the guards. On the front wall, sheltered by the rampart, Yosef and one of the guards were helping another, obviously hurt. Harald did a quick count, turned, went back down the keep stairs.
The archer at the lower slit was not Elaina but Hen; he looked up as Harald came down the stairs.
"I got one of them."
"One of them got you." Harald pointed at the spreading stain on the front of the boy's tunic. "Let me see."
Hen looked surprised. The arrow had sliced across the boy's chest; the wound was bleeding but not deep. Harald pulled a strip of cloth from under the skirt of his war coat, wrapped it around the boy's body over the wound.
"Good thing people are born with armor." Hen looked puzzled. "Breastbone. Want to kill someone, don't aim there. Next time, wear something."
In the courtyard, Yosef ran over to his son.
"I'm all right Father, just a scratch, I killed one of them."
Over his head the two men's eyes met. Harald nodded.
"Yes and yes."
By noon the wounded had been dealt with, the enemy dead stripped, bodies over the wall. Hen delighted in a mail shirt, only slightly damaged; it reached well below his knees. Three of the defenders, Hen included, were injured, one badly. Neither Harald nor Rorik thought the Wolves would try again that day, but Yosef posted two of the remaining guards on sentry and the rest ate in armor.
The day dragged on. Harald sat by the wounded guard in the hall while one of the women fed him. He saw Elaina in the doorway, beckoning, followed her up to the guestroom. Kara was folding tunics, packing saddlebags.
"We have to leave. Tonight, out the postern. Before we get Yosef and everyone killed. Help us persuade him."
"You aren't asking the right question."
Elaina looked at him, puzzled.
"Big wolfpack outside, three decades, four, maybe more. Some of them hunting you a month or more. Two Ladies, no special rank or station. Storming a castle, risking war with a provincial lord. Why?"
There was a long silence. It was Kara who broke it.
"Your mother."
Elaina looked up. "We agreed."
"If we can't trust our friends, slit our throats now and save the folk outside the trouble."
"I should have changed the name."
Harald looked straight at her.
"Want to keep that secret, child, need a new face too."
She looked blankly at him, startled by the excitement in his voice.
"What is it?"
"Think; it's a useful habit. Why do they want to take your mother's daughter?"
Comprehension. Harald spoke.
"Can't put pressure on a corpse, child. She's alive. Best news I've had the past year."
Kara spoke, slowly. "If we can't leave, what do we do?"
"Send for help. Stephen's a day's ride away. Times like this he'll be feeding fifty swords in his hall, maybe more."
"Lord Stephen, the King's man. Can we trust him?"
Harald looked amused. "If the King trusts him to show up with an army when and where he's told, His Majesty's more of a fool than I think. Yosef trusts him. I trust him. His people trust him not to get them killed if he can help it. You'll be all right."
"I'll go."
It was Hen in the doorway, his father behind him.
"I know the paths, can get past them."
Harald shook his head.
"You don't know the way to Stephen's hold; you've been there twice in your life."
"Father can tell me."
"You're wounded, you can hide but you can't fight, and the guards at the gate might not believe you. I'll go."
Yosef, both hands on his son's shoulders, spoke over him. "Can you find your way?"
"Once I get to the north road. You'll have to tell me the first part."
"What if they chase you?" That was Hen again.
"Expect I have more
He took a long look around. The castle wall was clear of enemies. Rorik and the guardsman were on the back wall, bending over the body of another of the guards. On the front wall, sheltered by the rampart, Yosef and one of the guards were helping another, obviously hurt. Harald did a quick count, turned, went back down the keep stairs.
The archer at the lower slit was not Elaina but Hen; he looked up as Harald came down the stairs.
"I got one of them."
"One of them got you." Harald pointed at the spreading stain on the front of the boy's tunic. "Let me see."
Hen looked surprised. The arrow had sliced across the boy's chest; the wound was bleeding but not deep. Harald pulled a strip of cloth from under the skirt of his war coat, wrapped it around the boy's body over the wound.
"Good thing people are born with armor." Hen looked puzzled. "Breastbone. Want to kill someone, don't aim there. Next time, wear something."
In the courtyard, Yosef ran over to his son.
"I'm all right Father, just a scratch, I killed one of them."
Over his head the two men's eyes met. Harald nodded.
"Yes and yes."
By noon the wounded had been dealt with, the enemy dead stripped, bodies over the wall. Hen delighted in a mail shirt, only slightly damaged; it reached well below his knees. Three of the defenders, Hen included, were injured, one badly. Neither Harald nor Rorik thought the Wolves would try again that day, but Yosef posted two of the remaining guards on sentry and the rest ate in armor.
The day dragged on. Harald sat by the wounded guard in the hall while one of the women fed him. He saw Elaina in the doorway, beckoning, followed her up to the guestroom. Kara was folding tunics, packing saddlebags.
"We have to leave. Tonight, out the postern. Before we get Yosef and everyone killed. Help us persuade him."
"You aren't asking the right question."
Elaina looked at him, puzzled.
"Big wolfpack outside, three decades, four, maybe more. Some of them hunting you a month or more. Two Ladies, no special rank or station. Storming a castle, risking war with a provincial lord. Why?"
There was a long silence. It was Kara who broke it.
"Your mother."
Elaina looked up. "We agreed."
"If we can't trust our friends, slit our throats now and save the folk outside the trouble."
"I should have changed the name."
Harald looked straight at her.
"Want to keep that secret, child, need a new face too."
She looked blankly at him, startled by the excitement in his voice.
"What is it?"
"Think; it's a useful habit. Why do they want to take your mother's daughter?"
Comprehension. Harald spoke.
"Can't put pressure on a corpse, child. She's alive. Best news I've had the past year."
Kara spoke, slowly. "If we can't leave, what do we do?"
"Send for help. Stephen's a day's ride away. Times like this he'll be feeding fifty swords in his hall, maybe more."
"Lord Stephen, the King's man. Can we trust him?"
Harald looked amused. "If the King trusts him to show up with an army when and where he's told, His Majesty's more of a fool than I think. Yosef trusts him. I trust him. His people trust him not to get them killed if he can help it. You'll be all right."
"I'll go."
It was Hen in the doorway, his father behind him.
"I know the paths, can get past them."
Harald shook his head.
"You don't know the way to Stephen's hold; you've been there twice in your life."
"Father can tell me."
"You're wounded, you can hide but you can't fight, and the guards at the gate might not believe you. I'll go."
Yosef, both hands on his son's shoulders, spoke over him. "Can you find your way?"
"Once I get to the north road. You'll have to tell me the first part."
"What if they chase you?" That was Hen again.
"Expect I have more
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