Charis sighed. She could not fight another attacker, let alone six. She turned and picked up the fleece and flung it onto the flames which were now burning furiously, their ragged red streaks angry against the pale yellow of the risen sun.
The wooden poles that formed the beams of the crude roof collapsed then, scattering flames onto the platform itself. She backed away from the flames, hoping that Kian would somehow see the pyre and recognize it as a warning. She slumped against the stone as the enemy soldiers came pounding up the inside steps.
A second later, the first one jumped through the entrance hole. He crossed the platform in three quick strides. Charis raised the knife. The man’s foot lashed out, and the knife went spinning from her grasp.
An instant later her arms were jerked over her head and she was slung over the man’s shoulder. She had a glimpse of two other soldiers tugging at the body of the rider she had stabbed. There was a dizzy swirl of smoke and darkness and then she was lying on the grass beside the tower, which had become a flaming beacon. She saw black smoke coiling into the blue sky and felt a warm tingle of pride force its way into her muzzy consciousness. If Kian is anywhere near, she thought, he will see it. He must see it.
The soldiers had gathered for a quick consultation, which ended abruptly. One of the men came to her, jerked her upright, and hoisted her across his back. Two others helped their wounded comrade to his feet and they started back down to the shore.
Charis allowed herself to be carried a little way while she gathered her strength. When the party reached level ground, the man carrying put her down to shift her weight to the other shoulder. That was all she needed.
She stepped to the side and kicked at her assailant’s knee. The man’s leg buckled and he fell, yelling to his comrades, but she had already leapt away and had four strides on them before they knew what had happened. Ignoring the pain, she fled up the hill.
As she reached the crest of the hill, one of her pursuers caught up with her, seizing her arm and spinning her around. She pulled her hands back, drawing him toward her and at the same time raising her knee sharply. The man gasped and crumpled to the ground, clutching his groin and rolling in agony. The next one to reach her was more wary, although no more lucky. He dived for her feet, hoping to trip her. She timed her jump perfectly and landed with both feet on his outstretched arm. The bone snapped with a sickening crunch and her attacker groaned.
The next two took her together, closing in from either side; one had his knife in his hand. They lunged and lunged again. Each time Charis was able to elude them-dodging, feinting, always just out of reach. The soldiers cursed and rushed at her. She spun from their grasp, but the knife snagged her sleeve and she was caught. Instantly the enemy’s hands were on her. “Got her!” he cried. “Use your knife!”
The second attacker drew his knife and ran toward her. Charis waited until he was too close to dodge away and then simply lifted her legs, planting her feet firmly against the man’s chest. Momentum impelled him forward and lifted Charis into the air. She swung up and over the man holding her, as lightly as if she had been tossed by one of the bulls. The two assailants collided, and one of them dropped to the ground with a knife wound in his side.
She was free once more, but the remaining two had caught up and, together with the one wielding the knife, were advancing slowly toward her, swords drawn. The pain in her back was fierce, the muscles stiffening. Her cheek and jaw throbbed and her vision wavered.
The three circled around her and Charis faced them, allowing them to ready themselves for their assault; she already knew what she would do. When they rushed upon her, she leaped forward into the downward slope of the hill and rolled, swiping the feet of one of her attackers from under him as she passed.
A heartbeat later she had found her feet and was flying down the side of the hill. She reached the bottom and feU headlong onto the turf, tried to rise, but the movement sent black waves of nausea through her. She heard footsteps pounding toward her and twisted on the ground to meet her attackers for the last time.
They were standing on the hillside above her, staring, not at her but beyond her. She swiveled her head and saw a line of horsemen sweeping over the turf. There is no escape, she thought. Not from men on horseback.
The three ob the hillside above her cried out, and the nest thing Charis knew there were horses racing by her and voices shouting. But all this was happening a long, long way off and no longer concerned her. She lay her head down against the grass and let the pain take her. A dark pall of smoke hung between earth and sky, dispersing on the breeze. Charis felt her own cloudy consciousness dispersing as well and closed her eyes.
The sun was bright and hot on her face and Charis awoke. There were arms around her and a face hovering over her. “I am thirsty,” she said and a moment later a cup was pressed to her lips. She drank the cool water, looked at the face once more, and recognized it. “Kian!”
“The men were worried,” he said lightly. “They thought they would not get the chance to thank their deliverer.” He smiled and gave a laugh that was mostly relief. “I told them they did not know my sister if they thought any army of Seithemn’s could get the best of her. Lucky for those butchers we got here when we did.”
“Kian, I”
“Just lie back. Where are you hurt?”
“My back-an old injury,” she said and tried to smile.
“Can you ride?”
She shook her head, which started the dizziness again. “I doubt that I can.”
Kian called to one of his men, who nodded and hurried away. “There will be a carriage here soon,” he told her and lay her gently back down. “Rest now.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Later.”
“No, now.”
Kian tugged on the leather strap at his chin and removed the plumed helmet as he settled himself beside her. She saw the long dark curls spilling over his collar and the jut of his taut jaw; she might have been seeing Avallach. “What were you doing out here-besides saving our lives?”
“Waiting for you.”
“You knew we would be coming this way?”
“The Lia Fail-I had Annubi look.”
He accepted this but asked, “Why?”
“I had to see you, to talk to you. I knew nothing about the ambush-Annubi did not see that.”
“We would not have seen it either if not for your warning.” He smiled again, with pleasure this time. “Little Charis, I never thought to see you again. Seven years and no word… nothing… and then here you are… What was so important that you had to take on Seithenin’s best in order to talk to me?”
He had asked the question and now she did not know how to tell him what she had come to say. Words were frail, clumsy vessels, incapable of conveying the truth of what she knew.
“I need your help, Kian. You are the only one I can trust to listen to me.”
“I am listening.”
“Kian, there is not much time,” she said and then it all came in a rush. “We have to be ready-it is ending… All this, this war is meaningless. We have to get ready… It is over, Kian. We have to”
He stopped her. “Wait a moment. Get ready for what? What is ending?”
She hesitated, then spread her hand to indicate all around them. “Our world, Kian. Atlantis; it is going to be destroyed. Very, very soon. We have to get ready.”
He stared at her for a moment. “If everything is going to be destroyed,” he said slowly, “will it matter very much whether we are ready or not?”
“To leave, I mean. We have to be ready to leave.”
He shrugged and smiled placidly. “Where would we go?”
“You do not Believe me.”
“I have heard these rumors before, Charis. I am surprised you Believe them yourself.”