I barely had time to register what had happened before Keir somehow swept me back. His hands forced me down, against the wall of the shop. I fell to my knees as the horses danced about in confusion. The air filled with shouts, cries of frustration, and the clatter of hooves on cobblestones.
“Stay down.” Keir hissed, as he turned and pulled his swords. I looked up to see the horses flee and Keir, Rafe, and Prest use those precious seconds to take positions, sheltering me in their half-circle. The attackers came charging from the shadows, a hodgepodge of ruffians, shields at the ready, weapons high.
“Death to the—” The lead man never finished his cry. Keir smashed through his defenses and plunged into the man’s chest in one quick stabbing motion. I could hear the sound of steel on bone as he pulled the blade free. With fierce quickness, he struck at another, who barely deflected the blow with his blade.
Prest held his shield up tight, absorbing blows from his two sword-wielding attackers. He waited, patient, then darted in with his sword to take quick strikes when they left themselves open.
Rafe was barely holding his own against his opponent. A big man, armed with an enormous club, was battering at his shield, striking it with heavy, powerful blows. Rafe took the blows, but each time, his shield went lower. Finally the giant struck with such force that Rafe’s shield came down, hitting Rate’s forehead. Sensing this weakness, Keir feinted a rushing attack on his remaining opponent. As the man stepped back, Keir turned and drove one blade deep into Rafe’s opponent. The man gave a grunt as it slid in easily. Keir’s attention focused back on his own enemy before the body fell from the blade.
There was a cry, a clatter, and another man emerged from the shadows, pulling a mace from his belt. He launched himself at Rafe.
I pressed against the wall, trying to stay small and out of the way. The Watch should have come running by now, but the street remained empty, with no sound of a hue and cry. The only sounds were those of clashing weapons, heavy breathing, and boots looking for purchase on the surface of the street.
With two down, the remaining attackers shifted their focus. Prest now had one opponent. Two pressed Keir. Rafe faced one as well.
It proved to be a mistake. Prest bashed at his opponent with his shield, driving the man back, ramming him hard enough to get him off-balance. With a step forward, Prest snaked his sword out around the edge of his shield and plunged it into his opponent’s ribs. As his man went down, I assumed Prest would aid Keir. But he stayed in position, scanning the street, keeping his place.
Keir needed no aid. He seemed to know his opponents’ moves before they were made, and blocked them with ease. His attackers were breathing heavily as fatigue set in. When one made the mistake of stepping back when his fellow shifted forward, Keir did not hesitate. In a moment, another man lay bleeding in the street, and two were left.
They broke and ran.
Rafe made to follow, but Keir barked a command. Rafe froze and kept position. Keir turned his head slightly. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” My voice sounded so shaky, it embarrassed me. I tried to rise, sliding a hand against the wall for support. The wood felt warm and rough against my trembling hand.
“Stay down.” Keir still scanned the street and rooftops, weapons at the ready.
It had happened so fast, my heart still raced in my chest. I concentrated on my breathing, trying to slow it down. For tense minutes, we stood there waiting to see if they would try again. After a lifetime, Keir relaxed. “It’s clear. Anyone hurt?” Prest and Rafe responded in the negative, as they both moved to check the fallen.
I pushed away from the wall. “Rafe, you’re cut.”
“Scraped myself on my shield rim.” Rafe turned his man over. “This one’s dead.”
I took a step forward, toward the other downed men.
“No.” Keir stopped me.
“Please, let me…” I pushed against him, trying to move past. I might as well have pushed the wall.
Rafe spoke up. “Doesn’t matter, Warprize. They’re all dead.” He was kneeling by one of the bodies, cleaning his sword. “Strange that they have no armor.”
“An ambush planned in haste.” Keir stood grim, scanning the market area, which remained strangely empty for the time of day. There was no sign of the Watch. “Warprize, do you recognize them?” Keir moved with me as I stepped forward to look at their faces.
They lay in their own blood, the smell of feces and death in the air. None of them looked familiar as Rafe rolled them onto their backs, and they wore nothing to identify themselves with any noble family. Even as I shook my head, Rafe pulled a belt pouch off one, and it spilled bright gold coins onto the cobblestones. More gold than a mere soldier might see in a lifetime.
Keir growled low in his throat. “Assassins. Xyian, all of them.”
“This isn’t.”
We turned to see Prest standing at the wall, holding the lance in his hands, the tip broken. Black shards lay on the ground at his feet. “Full-tipped when thrown.” Prest’s eyes gleamed as he displayed the feathering on the lance.
Rafe sucked in a breath with a hiss.
Keir’s lips tightened, then he glanced at Rafe. “Gather the horses.” The animals hadn’t wandered far and Rafe moved toward them, making soothing sounds. Keir turned back to Prest. “Wrap that and put it in my quiver. We’re returning to camp.”
“Camp?” I stepped back from the bodies, wrapping my cloak around my body. “But the ceremony…” I let my voice trail off as Keir ignored me, cleaning his swords on one of the dead. Prest was next to me, wrapping the lance in a cloth he’d pulled from his saddlebags. Hadn’t Atira said something about featherings? Their patterns?
It was my turn to suck in a breath. “Who made that lance?”
Prest looked at me, then flicked his eyes to Keir. Rafe came up with the beasts and Keir took the reins. With a nod, he had Rafe stripping the corpses of gold and weapons. With an equally quick movement he motioned for me to mount. “Up, Warprize.”
“You know who made it.”
Keir’s eyes rested on mine for a moment, softening slightly. He spoke, but not to answer my question. “ Mount. We ride for camp.”
I just stood there, trying to think past the rapid beating of my heart. “The ceremony…”
Keir drilled me with a glare. “Ceremony be damned.”
I went to the horse, and clung to the saddle, trying to will strength into my legs. Trembling, I mounted. “ What does it say if the Warlord runs to camp and hides when attacked by six men?”
Rafe chimed in. “Six men who weren’t very good.”
Prest snorted, but kept his eyes on the street.
Keir didn’t glance at Rafe. “So speaks the man who will be practicing his shield work for the next week.”
Rafe shut his mouth.
Keir grabbed his own horse and swung into the saddle. “It says that the Warlord is no fool.” Prest and Rafe mounted up as well.
“We are not hurt.” I swallowed hard, and fought down my fear. “There are many people gathered for the ceremony. What will they say when the Warlord does not appear?” I moved my horse in the direction of the castle.
Keir grabbed my reins as I passed, bringing my horse to a halt. “Then I will go alone. Prest and Rafe will escort you to camp.”
I shook my head. “That leaves you alone and a target. If we all go, then we will have the escort of all the men who are attending on the way back.” I caught his eye. “Besides, my people are expecting me. What rumors will start when I do not appear?”
Keir stared at me, his jaw working. I could see a small vein pulsing on his neck, but I didn’t drop my gaze. Finally, he took in a deep breath and let it out very, very slowly. He released the reins, and turned his horse in the direction of the castle.
“What about them?” Rafe jerked his head back at the pile of dead.
“Leave them to rot.”