Yan Tovis had drawn her Shake down on to the stony shoreline, where numbers alone kept the worst of the killers at bay.
The ex-prisoners of Second Maiden Fort had not taken well the rumour-sadly accurate-that the Queen of Twilight was preparing to lead them into an unknown world, a realm of darkness, a road without end. That, if she failed and lost her way, would find them all abandoned, trapped for ever in a wasteland that had never known a sun’s light, a sun’s blessed warmth.
A few thousand islanders had taken refuge among the Shake. The rest, she knew, were busy dying or killing each other amidst grey smoke and raging flames. Standing facing the ravaged slope with its morbid tree-stumps and destroyed huts, her face smeared with ash and sweat, her eyes streaming from the smoke, Yan Tovis struggled to find her courage, her will to take command once more. She was exhausted, in her bones and in her soul. Waves of ash-filled heat gusted against her. Distant screams drifted through the air, cutting through the surly growl of the motley rabble edging ever closer.
Someone was pushing through the crowd behind her, snarling curses and dire warnings. A moment later, Skwish scrambled forward. ‘There’s near a thousand gulpin’ down o’er there, Queen. When they get their nerve, they’re gonna carve inta us-we got a line a ex-guards an’ the like betwixt ’em an’ us. You better do somethin’ and do it fast… Highness.’
She could hear renewed fighting, somewhere down the beach. Twilight frowned. Something about that sound… ‘Do you hear that?’ she asked the witch cowering at her side.
‘Wha?’
‘That’s an organized advance, Skwish.’ And she pushed past the old woman, making her way towards that steady clash of iron, the shouts of commands being given, the shrieks and cries of dying looters. Even in the uncertain flickering light from the forest fire, she could see how the mob was curling back-a wedge of Letherii soldiers was pushing through, drawing ever closer.
Twilight halted. Yedan Derryg. And his troop. My brother-damn him!
She saw her ex-guards shift uneasily as the wedge cut through the last looters. They did not know if the newcomers would attack them next-if they did, the poorly armed islanders would be cut to pieces. Twilight hurried, determined to throw herself between the two forces.
She heard Yedan snap an order, and saw the perfect precision of his thirty or so soldiers wheeling round, the wedge dispersing, flattening out to form a new line facing the churning crowd of looters, locking shields, drawing up their weapons.
The threat from that direction was now over. Actual numbers were irrelevant. Discipline among a few could defeat a multitude-that was Letherii doctrine, borne out in countless battles against wild tribes on the borderlands. Yan Tovis knew it as did her brother.