Nightchild

*

Xye watched the crush of opposing forces with the detached analysis afforded a Protector through the sifting of every stimulus by the entire brethren in the Soul Tank. It allowed him to assess immediately, act with supreme confidence and authority, and minimise the chances of damage to any Protector or Given. He had the unfailing support of every brother and his courage was eternally undimmed.

He stood in the centre of the line, his back eight paces from those of Sol and Aeb, looking back towards the fires that had engulfed the fish market, the inn, and the timber yard and now threatened the foundry and warehousing nearby. The fires denied the night and shed a garish glare over the entire dockside, lighting the charging horses and their riders in the colours of hell.

Xye considered the enemy had taken an ill-conceived gamble based on panic, not tactics. The mixed Dordovan and Lysternan forces drove hard along the dockside, the latter unsure, the former desperate to destroy the line threatening their comrades. But behind them, the mages had dropped their barricades and the Given mages launched FlameOrbs, HotRain and IceWind across the cavalries as the Protectors, unhindered by ForceCones, surged after them.

And into the melee came more that Xye couldn't place. Men on foot, directed by a single man on horseback; and through the maelstrom of thoughts and pulses, Xye picked up a thread that warned of the howling of wolves. Animals to be spared.

Strength and courage. Fracture the charge. Help comes from behind,. We are one.

Xye knew the brethren could not lose.

'Head up, Hirad,' said The Unknown, his sword point still tapping the slick stone at his feet. 'Go centre, go low. I'll take the rider.'

'Got you.'

The Unknown took the short blade in both hands now and watched the Dordovans as they came. It was not a full charge. Both horses and riders were nervous at the enemy they faced, their usual confidence undermined by the lack of fear in their foe.

Tlkar, how're you doing.'

'Debating offence,' came the reply.

'When they hit us, not before.'

'Any moment now, then.'

The Unknown heard the grim humour in Ilkar's tone. This was not a good situation. The front rank of the cavalry was on them, formation wide enough to allow weapons a clear path. The thunder of hooves, the shouts of the men and the snorts of the horses clamoured all around, in front and behind, counterpointed by the total lack of movement or sound from the Protectors.

The Unknown ceased tapping his blade, paced forward, raised it high and crashed it into the centre rider, seeing from the corner of his eye, Hirad dropping to a crouch to power up under the horse's neck. The rider was ready but it wasn't enough; his one-handed block hadn't the strength to counter The Unknown's massive swing. His blade was knocked aside, leaving his chest and neck open to the Raven man's blade which sliced through exposed flesh and screamed across his chainmail chest guard. Blood foun-tained into the air and as his horse collapsed from Hirad's strike the man toppled lifeless from his saddle.

Turning to face his next opponent, The Unknown was struck in the back of the shoulder. He half-turned, guard up but there was no threat, just the head of a Dordovan bouncing to the floor.

The second rank of cavalry bulldozed through where the first had failed, forcing back Protector and Raven alike. The Unknown fielded blows on his blade from left and right, feeling the press of horseflesh around him and craning his neck to look for an opening. He heard Hirad curse, and saw the flash of a blade. A horse screamed. The Unknown struck right, biting into a rider's armour. Winded, the man turned to wheel away, but his dying mount wouldn't respond and he merely lurched in the saddle. The Unknown snatched his foot from its stirrup and pitched him to the ground for Hirad to finish.

'Ilkar! Now's a good time for something.'

The mage didn't respond immediately, then.

'Shield down. Crouch, Raven.'

The Unknown complied and Ilkar's spell thudded over his head, a ForceCone which smashed into the remnants of the front rank, driving back horses into those behind and stripping riders from saddles.

A loose horse, caught as it reared, flailed its hooves, catching The Unknown a glancing blow on his shoulder and on to his chin. He

sprawled over the wet stone, seeing stars, sword knocked from his grasp and gasping from the sudden pain. Rolling immediately on to his left-hand side, he saw the Dordovans regrouping and heard Hirad shouting his name. He was in front of the line and vulnerable, his sword a couple of paces away. He dragged himself to a crouch, pain spearing through his shoulder and up into his neck. He crawled forward quickly and grabbed the blade, standing ready to back up.

'Unknown, left. Left!' Hirad's desperate shout cut through him. He swung left, raising his sword instinctively in his right hand.

The horse had come from nowhere, riding across the line, and as he made to jump right to avoid it, the Dordovan cavalryman leaned out and swung his axe hard and low, smashing it into The Unknown's unprotected hip.

He felt the agony, knew he was falling and he felt the smack of stone on his face.