By the time they reached the dock, the ship was secured and a long gangplank was being shoved out from the tall deck of the Fardohnyan warship. The first man off the ship was a tall, blond fellow who strode purposefully up the dock and swept Adrina up in a massive bear hug. She squealed as her feet left the ground. He put her down then held her at arm's length for a moment.
“You're getting fat,” was the first thing he said.
“I'm having a baby, Gaffen. I'm allowed to get fat.”
Gaffen looked startled at the news. He turned to Damin and eyed him up and down. “You'd be Wolfblade, I'm guessing. Where's the fight?”
“You guessed correctly. And the fight is just about to start, my Lord. They are breaking down the walls as we speak.”
“Then what are we standing around here for?” The Fardohnyan spun on his heel and marched back towards his ship, yelling orders for his troops to disembark as he went. Damin turned to Adrina, looking rather bemused.
She smiled. “Don't worry. He likes you.”
“How can you tell?”
“He didn't try to kill you. That's always a good start with Gaffen.”
Before he could answer, a messenger came running down the dock towards them, calling for him. The man skidded to a halt and bowed hastily before delivering his news.
“Lady Lionsclaw said to tell you they've broken through, Your Highness.”
“Where?”
“On the north wall. Near the weaving district.”
“Tell her I said to hold on. I'll be there with reinforcements shortly.”
The courier glanced at the Fardohnyans pouring off the Wave Warrior and saluted sharply, suddenly grinning from ear to ear. He ran back the way he came, whooping with delight.
“Seems your brother's arrival has somebody happy today,” Damin murmured as he watched the young man's departure. Then he turned to Adrina. “I want you to go back to the palace and stay there.”
“Yes, dear.”
“I mean it, Adrina. You're not to stick your nose outside the palace until this is over. With your brother's troops, we could have Cyrus on the run soon enough, but I don't intend to spend the next few hours worrying about what you're getting up to.”
“Don't pussyfoot around, man!” Gaffen declared, coming up behind them. “Tell her to stay put, or you'll beat her senseless. It's the only thing that works with Adrina.”
“Gaffen, shut up!”
He grinned at his sister then turned to Damin. “Come on, Wolfblade! Let's go slaughter your enemies. Adrina, get back to the palace now, or I'll throw you over my shoulder and carry you screaming all the way back, and lock you up.”
Adrina glared at her brother, but to Damin's astonishment she turned and strode haughtily back towards the palace without another word. Gaffen noticed Damin's expression and laughed.
“I can see you and I need to have a talk about Adrina when this business is done with, Your Highness.”
“If I had threatened her with that, she would have killed me.”
“Probably,” Gaffen agreed cheerfully. “Can you organise someone to get the rest of my ships docked? I've a feeling we'll need every man before the day is out.”
“How many did you bring?” he asked.
“Three thousand. Do you think that will be enough?”
He'd been hoping for twice that many. Cyrus had ten thousand men outside the walls. Between Gaffen's reinforcements and the troops he had in the city they were still outnumbered, but at least the odds were a little better.
“It's going to have to be enough,” Damin said, trying not to sound disappointed.
The breach in the wall near the weaving district was contained easily enough, but it was followed by more reports of breaks in the walls from all over the city. By mid-morning, Cyrus had broken through and Damin gave up trying to plug the gaps. He pulled his troops back from the walls and the battle for Greenharbour was well and truly under way.
They fought for the city, street by street, falling back when they had to, surging forward to repel the invaders when they could, but slowly, a street at the time, they were pushed back towards the harbour. The Fardohnyan forces were still not completely disembarked. There simply weren't enough berths to get them all ashore quickly enough.
Gaffen ranted at his commanders to unload the troops faster, but there was little he could do to speed up the process. All they could do was hold out as long as possible, throwing Gaffen's fresh troops into the fray wherever the lines weakened. But they were coming off the ships at irregular intervals. A few of the Fardohnyans had gone charging into the battle without waiting for orders, bolstering lines that didn't need them, while Cyrus' men broke through in other places that were desperate for reinforcements. Another troop had ploughed into the fray and accidentally turned on Rogan Bearbow's men, not realising that they were not the enemy.
By mid-afternoon, Damin was seriously considering evacuating the palace. Cyrus had pushed so far into the city he was almost ready to admit they were losing the battle. Gaffen's troops were disembarked, but they were too little, too late. If he'd had them earlier, before Cyrus first breached the walls, he might have had a chance. As it was, they only filled the gaps. He didn't have the men to take the battle to Cyrus.
Rubbing his temples wearily, he glanced across the room at Adrina's brother, who wore a look of wounded pride as much as anything. Gaffen wasn't used to defeat.
“Perhaps if we turn my ships broadside to the city, we could turn the cannon on them,” he suggested hopefully.
Damin shook his head. “You'll kill as many of our people as you will theirs.”
“Then we fire the city.”
Damin nodded reluctantly. He had been hoping to avoid it, despite the fact that he'd had Almodavar quietly distributing barrels of pitch throughout the city for days prior to the battle. Setting fire to Greenharbour would stop Cyrus surely enough, but it was likely to destroy much of the city in the process.
“I was hoping to use that as a last resort.”
“Aye,” Gaffen agreed heavily. “But that moment is approaching rapidly.”
The battle continued without pause as the day wore on. The reports kept coming in, each progressively worse than the last. The sun was resting on the horizon when Damin's stomach rumbled, and he realised the day was almost over. He'd been too busy directing the fighting to eat. Damin hated combat like this. He was a warrior at heart, not a tactician. He would much rather be in the thick of battle, not directing others to do his fighting for him. Tarja was good at that sort of thing. Damin spared his friend a thought for a moment, wondering what had become of him. Was he waiting in Krakandar for aid that would never come? Or had he done something stupid and got himself killed by the Kariens?
Damin doubted he would ever learn the truth. Cyrus was all but knocking on the doors of the palace. It was little more than three hours after Gaffen suggested it that he was forced to concede that they had no other option but to fire the city in the hope of driving the enemy off.
“Gaffen, I want you to take Adrina and whoever else you can find in the palace and get them out of here.”
The Fardohnyan looked at him for a moment and then nodded in understanding. “And what of you, Your Highness?”
“I can't order anybody else to do this. If Greenharbour burns, then it will be by my hand.”
Gaffen hesitated for a moment, then called in one of his captains and began giving the orders to evacuate the palace. When he was done, he snatched up his sword from the table where he had been using it to hold down a map of the city.