Valorian (27 page)

One by one, he used his spell to open all the cell doors wide until every clansperson and a few stray Chadarian prisoners were crowded into the passage. The people were startled by their sudden freedom, and they crowded close to Valorian as he led them quietly up the stairs. Near the top', he motioned them to stop. Through the large, iron-bound door, he could hear sounds that made him smile. He had timed it perfectly. The garrison was in an uproar of running feet, shouting voices, and blaring horns.

Aiden and his men must have begun their diversions on schedule.

Valorian made the clanspeople wait until the noise beyond the door had dropped to a more'

normal level. As soon as it was quiet beyond the door, Valorian gently turned the lock to rust and eased open the door a crack. The watchman on the other side stood looking down the corridor. He never saw the door opening or felt the spel that put him to sleep. As his body sagged to the floor, Valorian stepped into the passageway.

The hall at that moment was empty, and there was no sign of other guards. A few torches flickered along the stone corridor, sending shadows dancing along the walls.

Frightened, elated, and nervous, the cIanspeople hurried along the passage toward the front entrance. Because of the alarms in the city, only the usual sentries were roaming the building and the grounds. Valorian used magic to put every guard he saw to sleep, giving them no chance to sound an alarm. He was grateful there weren't many Tarns to deal with, for the beating he had taken the night before had left him with little strength to control the magic. Even the simple spells he had used on the locks and the guards had seriously weakened him.

As soon as he and his people were out the front door, Valorian pointed to the garrison stables.

"Some of you get those horses. Hitch them to any wagon you can find. Hurry! The rest of you stay here.

Lord Fearral will be coming any moment."

The younger men obeyed with alacrity. The few Chadarian prisoners chose that moment to take to their heels. No one tried to stop them.

"Look!" someone shouted, pointing toward the center of the city.

Not far to the south, a ruddy gold glow illuminated the city's outline against the night sky, revealing a great column of smoke that billowed toward the stars. Valorian grinned. Aiden and his men had planned to light a fire in the city as a diversion for the Tarnish garrison. From the intensity of the ruddy light, the fire must be a big one.

At that moment, there was the sound of shouts and fighting from the stables. Before Valorian could get there, though, the noises quickly died away and several harnessed pairs of horses were led out of the stable by some of the clansmen. The men were carrying Tarnish swords and looking satisfied.

"We ran into a patrol," one called cheerfully to Valorian as they headed for some wagons parked by the stable wall. Rapidly the horses were hitched, and the first of the women, children, and elders were lifted into the vehicles. Other horses were brought out and saddled until the stable was empty. Stil there was no sign of Tyrranis's troops or Lord Fearral's men.

Valorian was growing anxious. There wouldn't be much time before the garrison began to realize something more than just a chance fire was happening. If they got the slightest warning that the clanspeople were trying to flee, they would seal Actigorium like a trap. There would be no escape for anyone.

Then everyone stiffened to listen. They could hear the sound of a large party cantering toward the tower from the north gate road. Valorian ran forward to head off the horsemen. He whistled three times to signal them, and to his intense relief, they whistled back. Lord Fearral himself led the party of men, extra horses, carts, and wagons into the forecourt of the tower.

The people of the Clan cheered to see each other. Without further ado, the rest of the prisoners were placed in wagons or mounted on horseback. In a matter of only a few minutes, the entire party was ready to leave.

There was only one thing left for Valorian to do. Concentrating all his will in one call, he shouted at the top of his' voice, "Hunnul!"

Loud and strong, the cal went out, and to the surprise of everyone, it was answered from far, far away. A neigh, triumphant and proud, came in reply on the wind, and after it came a distant, muffled thundering. The cIanspeople waited expectantly, although they weren't sure what they were waiting for.

Then their answer came on the flying hooves of a large stampede of horses. With Hunnul at their rear, driving them on, the entire herd of horses from the Tarnish army corrals came careering along the road. The stolen Clan mares were there as well as army mounts and workhorses. Neighing wildly, their eyes rolling in fear at the fierce black stallion at their heels, their manes tossing in the wind, they swept by the waiting people in a tumbling wave of browns, blacks, and ghostly whites.

Hunnul charged up to Valorian, halted, and threw himself upward in a mighty rear, his hooves high over the man's head. He came down with a thud and paused just long enough for Valorian to mount.

"Let's go!" shouted Lord Fearral. The excited horses surged forward after the disappearing herd.

The entire cavalcade of horses, riders, and vehicles gal oped headlong on the stone-paved road through the city toward the northern gate. They were passing through an area that was predominantly storehouses and open lots, but the loud rumbling of their passing still drew the attention of people scattered through the area.

Shouts rose up behind them, and from somewhere in the night, a signal horn sang out a warning.

The fleeing cIanspeople paid little heed. They held on for dear life and urged their horses on as fast as the animals could go.

The northern gate wasn't far from the garrison tower, and it was as large as the gate to the south.

Unfortunately Valorian knew it would still take a little time to get the wagons and horses through. He prayed to the gods that Mordan and his men stil held the gate and that the Tarns were too busy elsewhere to organize an attack.

A loud cheer came from ahead as the city wal s loomed before the stampeding horses. The gates were wide open, with Mordan, Gylden and ten men standing to either side. Three dead Tarnish legionnaires lay in the shadows of the gate.

Valorian urged Hunnul over to where his friends were waiting. Both men were grinning at the stream of horses pouring past them. They saw Valorian and waved in evident relief.

"Better hurry," Mordan shouted, his sword in hand. "We kil ed the sentries, but I've heard signal horns in all directions. There'll be Tarns swarming all over this place in a moment." He took a closer look at Valorian and winced. "Good gods, what happened to you?"

"Tarnish hospitality," replied Valorian over the thunder of hooves. He pointed to the blood on Mordan's tunic. "What about you?"

"Not mine," came Mordan's terse reply. "Go on and get those wagons out of here. We meet at Stonehelm, right?"

"Yes! Everyone!"

"Until then!" Mordan shouted, and Hunnul dashed away.

Although the clanspeople tried to maintain an orderly retreat, it took time to sort out the wagons, carts, and riders in the darkness and keep them moving in a steady flow through the exit. It wasn't long before Tarnish soldiers appeared on the battlements above and in the streets behind them. There weren't enough men to dare a charge against Lord Fearral and his mounted warriors standing as the rear I guard, so they hid behind wal s and corners and began to pepper the fleeing wagons with arrows.

People screamed and shouted as several arrows scored hits, and the remaining wagons crowded toward the exit on the verge of panic.

Valorian rode back to join Fearral in the rear. He felt terribly sore and tired, and he had no weapons, hut he still had a little strength left. As soon as Lord Fearral pointed out the scattered Tarnish warriors lurking in the shadows, Valorian aimed several bolts of magical energy into the walls and stonework near the soldiers' heads. The Tarns were so stunned by the sight of the brilliant blue bolts and the explosions of sparks, they ducked out of sight.

Even the clansmen who saw the bolts gasped with shock. Everyone had seen Valorian's magic in his tale, but few had accepted its real power.

Meanwhile the rest of the clanspeople hurried through the gateway in a steady stream of wagons and riders. The rear guard drew in behind them, and Mordan and his men retrieved their mounts and joined Lord Fearral. At last Valorian saw the final hostages pass through the gate, and he breathed a silent prayer of thanks.

Just as he and the rear guard were about to withdraw, a small troop of Tarnish horsemen came gal oping along the north road in response to the earlier signal horns. Torchlight flickered on the tips of their spears and the polished metal of their light armor. They didn't hesitate at the sight of the slightly larger force but lowered their spears and charged out of the darkness head-on into the clansmen. Their attack was so sudden, Valorian had no chance to use his power in defense.

Two Clan warriors fell to the spears before the others closed in furiously with sword, axe, and shield. The gateway turned into a struggling, writhing mass of fighting men and frantic horses. Without a weapon, Valorian could only hang on while Hunnul used his hooves and teeth to keep the enemy away from his rider.

Angrily Valorian searched his mind for some spell he could use against the Tarns, only to realize that his magic would be too dangerous. The Tarns and clansmen were too close together for simple explosive bolts, and Valorian knew he was too exhausted to manipulate any spell more complicated. All he could do was hang on while his companions fought for their lives. He saw Gylden close by, struggling hand to hand with a stocky legionnaire. Mordan was by Fearral's side, defending his lord's back.

All at once Lord Fearral gave a great shout, and the officer of the Tarnish horsemen fell, the chieftain's axe in his crushed skull. The soldiers faltered.

Valorian sensed an advantage and raised his hand toward the night sky. A brilliant, sparkling ball of magic soared into the air to explode overhead in a shower of golden red sparks. Everyone instinctively ducked, and the Tarns, outfought and without a leader, fled into the safety of the night.

The clansmen cheered wearily. Quickly they gathered their dead warriors and trotted toward the gate, but they had forgotten about the Tarns on the battlements. The sentinels, armed with the army's powerful composite bows, ran to the arrow loops that looked down on the arched entrance and hurriedly loosed every missile they had.

The flight of arrows swarmed down on the rear guard as they passed underneath. Most of the bolts fell harmlessly behind the horses, and a few whizzed past Fearral's men to stick in the dirt. Only one flew straight and true toward the last four clansmen to leave the city. Out of the darkness, the shaft came as if guided by an unseen hand. With deadly vengeance, it flew past Mordan's head and struck deep into Lord Fearral's neck.

Valorian and Mordan saw the chieftain lurch sideways on his horse. Sick with fear, the guardsman reined his mount over and caught Fearral just as he was about to fall. Valorian came up on the other side, taking the reins from the chieftain's motionless hands.

Fearral was still alive for the moment, but all three men knew he wouldn't survive for long. A steady stream of blood flowed from the wound where the arrow had nicked an artery. The arrow itself, still lodged in his neck, kept the blood from spurting out. Fearral couldn't talk; instead, he jerked his hand to motion the men away. The two ignored him. Neither of them would abandon their lord while he was still alive.

They trotted the horses forward through the gate, both men supporting Fearral. In a final gesture, Valorian half turned just outside the city walls and launched a blast of magic at the top of the gateway.

The stonework exploded under the powerful blow and came tumbling down into a massive heap of rubble and debris where the gate used to be. Silence and dust settled over the wreckage. Mordan stared at the wall in awe before Valorian hurried him away with the chieftain.

Fearral's other guards and a few warriors had slowed to stay with them. The main body of the clanspeople had galloped on ahead. As planned, the people were to fol ow the Miril River east for a few leagues, then split up into smaller parties and scatter into the hills to confuse the Tarnish troops who would surely follow. If all went well, the entire Clan was to meet at Stonehelm to plan their next move.

The night was growing late by the time the last of the rear guard left the river and rode for the hills.

Valorian glanced back once at the distant city. He could still see the faint glow of a fire outlining Actigorium's horizon. It was unlikely, but he hoped with all his heart that General Tyrranis was roasting in those flames. A shudder shook his frame at the memory of that horrible, helpless night in Tyrranis's room. He didn't think he could ever go through anything like that again. He thought, too, of Aiden down there somewhere. Aiden and three other men had volunteered to infiltrate the city, set the fires, and slip out in the confusion. They had obviously been successful with the first two objectives, and Valorian could only pray that Aiden would succeed in the third.

Weary and aching, he turned back to the task of helping Lord Fearral. The old chieftain was failing fast. Blood covered his side, and his skin was deathly pale. He could no longer hang on to his horse.

Near daybreak, the warriors with Fearral found a thick copse of trees in the fold of a hill. They took their lord into the sheltering grove, gently lifted him from his horse, and laid him on his cloak. Valorian, Mordan, and the others gathered around him. They didn't try to remove the arrow, since that useless gesture would have only caused more pain.

He lay motionless as his life's blood slowly trickled into the cloak. His eyes flickered once when the sun pierced the dawn sky and lit the trees with gold and green. One of Fearral's hands groped out for another human hand, and Valorian clasped it tightly.