'Lord Isak!' cried a voice from somewhere behind him. Isak let the man behind him take his place, yelling wordless sounds of bloodlust and eagerly closing the gap. It gave Isak a moment of space in which to turn and look at the large shrine forty yards from Mariq's perch that marked the other end of their defensive line. The shrine had dozens of narrow archways, piled one on top of another in what had probably been a carefully devised pattern until the people of Scree had defaced it sometime recently.
Perched on top of the shrine, oblivious (or uncaring) of the impiety to whichever God was worshipped there, was Shinir. She pointed to the ground behind the mob with the handle of her lash, then low¬ered it and with a savage flick wrapped the chain around the neck of a woman who'd been trying to scramble up the side of the shrine towards her. With a practised movement, Shinir tugged the lash away and the woman's entire body spasmed before falling limp. That done, Shinir returned her attention to Isak, trying to direct his attention to something behind the mob.
She shouted, 'Cavalry, sir, a good regiment of Farlan!'
Isak grinned and raised his sword high. 'I knew Tori wouldn't die so easily!' he shouted back. The soldiers nearby gave a cheer and pushed forward with renewed vigour as the drum of hooves rose from behind the flailing scrum of crazed citizens.
Isak forced his way to the front of the rank and waded out into the bewildered throng, which had at last recognised the danger. Using both shield and sword to kill anyone near him, Isak began to force his way through the hundreds still left alive. In his wake were the heavily armoured Ghosts of his personal guard, closely followed by the whole line of heavy infantry, driving a bloody path through the mob to the horsemen beyond.
Isak felt a breeze that sent the shadows cavorting all around as the ground grew sticky with blood.
CHAPTER 30
Doranei froze and shrank down beside the splintered trunk of a cherry tree that had fallen into the street. Up ahead he could see Mikiss, the Menin vampire, had stopped and was turning his head from left to right as though searching for a scent. Theirs was the smallest group, with only a handful of the Brotherhood to accompany Zhia, and they were trying to keep as far as possible from their supernatural allies.
The three remaining white-masked acolytes that Zhia had bought from the Jesters padded along nearby. She claimed they would remain completely loyal to her, even if she were fighting the Jesters them¬selves. Zhia's disparate army was completed by Haipar, Legana, the necromancer's servant Nai, and her own man, Panro, who carried a long canvas bag over one shoulder. Doranei guessed that the bag con¬tained a tent, a last resort should dawn catch them still in the open. Both Nai and Panro were armed with brutal steel-tipped clubs, which they had already had occasion to use on the journey here. Despite the fires that had destroyed large tracts of southern Scree, driving the mobs north, there were still packs holed up all over the city.
Doranei thought the people they were encountering now were different to the mobs. They were still frenzied, but tonight he saw human emotions creeping back in. He recognised terror, because of a Land they no longer understood, a fear that was strong enough to drive them to terrible deeds. This horror had a human soul again, and that frightened Doranei more.
He knew roughly where his comrades were, but they were out of sight now. King Emin was circling around behind their target, while the remaining King's Men had broken off to approach from the east.
The banks of cloud above were obscuring the stars, sliding over the city like a coffin lid. He kept his eyes on Mikiss, who'd been told to lead the way. He wondered whether he had sensed a threat, or just some tasty morsel on the breeze. These days either was possible.
A hand came from nowhere to touch him on the arm and Doranei flinched with shock, his sword rising of its own volition until the hand closed about his wrist and held it tight. He twisted to bring the axe in his left hand around, stopping dead when he saw Zhia's sapphire eyes glittering in the darkness.
'Do calm down,' she said. 'Are you always this jumpy before battle?'
'Yes,' Doranei hissed angrily. 'I'm following a maniac through a city of madmen, hunting down a mage with a Crystal Skull. I'm bloody terrified. I bleed a lot more easily than you do, remember?'
Zhia was silent at first as she stared at him. 'I'm sorry,' she said eventually. 'It is easy for me to forget that life is a precious thing. What you fear is the one thing I crave.'
Doranei felt a flush of shame as he saw the truth in Zhia's expres-sion, but he knew it wasn't pity she was hoping for. As she released his wrist, Doranei leaned his sword against the fallen tree trunk and took her cold fingers in his hand. 'I can't even imagine it, but I don't want to be the one who reminds you of that, not if it causes so much hurt.'
She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. 'For all of my little problems, there's still a part of me that remains human, and people need to be reminded of pain sometimes. Without it there cannot be joy.'
Doranei instinctively checked his companions. They were similarly crouched a short way away, carefully watching for dangers in the other direction. 'Perhaps now is not the best time-'
And when would be better?' Zhia asked sharply before her expres¬sion softened. Doranei realised how unused to letting her guard down Zhia was. And how could she live any other way?
'We're safe enough at the moment, and once this is over it may be years before our paths cross again.'
'I hope it will be sooner,' Doranei said quietly.
'So do I, sweetness,' she replied with a soft laugh, patting the steel-covered back of his hand fondly, 'but such things are not always so simple.'
'I know. Whatever my feelings, there's a war to fight here, and we may not always be on the same side.'
And that I know only too well,' she said sadly. 'It is when sides are taken that the greatest hurt is done'
She leaned closer to him and lifted his helm from his head, then kissed him with surprising force, her desire almost palpable. She held him tight for half a dozen heartbeats, one hand entwined in his hair to bring him hard against her, the other pressed against his chest, as though touching his heart.
'That's why the present should always be savoured,' she whispered when their lips parted. 'Never forget to enjoy something special when it's in front of you.'
Doranei nodded, unable to find the right words. As he looked at Zhia, he felt something on his lower lip. Raising a finger to it, he saw a single droplet of blood. His eyes widened.
Zhia gave him a coquettish smile. 'Just a little reminder of me, and something for me to remember, too.' Before he could say anything, she added, 'Don't worry, sweetness; a scar will be the only gift you get from that.' She gestured. 'I think someone is getting impatient to be off.'
Doranei saw Mikiss glaring at them. 'Are we sure we can trust him?' he asked.
Zhia waved a hand dismissively. 'They're always a little excitable in the first few days. Mikiss will be close to his old self soon enough.' She pointed to his sword, still resting against the tree trunk. 'Come on, sweetness, we're not finished tonight yet.'
They set off again as a brisker pace, moving as silently as possible, Mikiss still in the lead. The vampires were the only ones with their weapons still sheathed. Doranei had yet to see Zhia draw her long-handled sword. The only person who'd managed to slip past the acolytes to reach her had received a casual backhand slap for his trouble. Afterwards, when none of the attackers had been left stand¬ing, Doranei had knelt with his knife to finish the boy off. He guessed his age at fifteen summers, but it was hard to tell as he flailed weakly on the ground, the left side of his face smashed beyond recognition.