creature,” Kieri said. “And we must kill it—if we kill all the men and leave it running loose, we have lost.” Kieri mounted Banner and lowered his visor. “Come on,” he said. “And you,” he said to the Halveric sergeant. “I need a tensquad.”
The Squires scrambled to mount and catch up as Kieri urged Banner past the end of the barrier in the trees and turned toward the scathefire track, where the creature had clambered onto the overturned wagon and now waved its front legs at its followers. A dozen Pargunese had made it over the barrier; the rest of the Lyonyans were picking off the others as they tried to climb the brush, their shields askew. Kieri glanced back, calculating angles and odds—his remaining Squires, a squad of Halverics commanded by that sergeant. Plenty, if they were fast.
Banner charged; behind him, Kieri heard other hoofbeats and the Halverics’ running feet. He knew the others were coming, outflanking the barrier. Then two more of the Pargunese soldiers shifted into the great spider shapes. Kieri felt a familiar wave of chill calm sweep over him.
Holy Falk, Lady of Peace …
He’d known there could be more than one—was that all? No, for another two Pargunese stopped short and seemed to shiver.
Kieri shifted his weight; Banner responded instantly, shortening stride and bringing Kieri directly to one of them in midchange. Kieri’s sword-stroke took the creature across the middle, splitting a still-soft carapace. On the backswing he took the second. Even as he looked back, Banner snorted and changed leads, swinging his hindquarters around.
Where were the Squires? Cern’s mount was just leaping one of the things Kieri had killed, ears pinned, eyes wild. Cern grabbed for mane as the horse bucked on landing, but he managed to come up on Kieri’s shield-side. “Sir—”
“Quiet,” Kieri said. The two lesser creatures faced them, forelegs raised and the vicious spinnerets he remembered pointing at them. How far could the venom go? Did they have other weapons? The first to change, the largest, was still crouched atop the wagon, facing the other Squires and Halverics, who seemed to be unable to move. It must be the commander.
“I can shoot one,” Linne said. She had caught up with them and nocked an arrow.
“The eye, the underside of the abdomen,” Kieri said. “The rest is armored.” He glanced back at the other soldiers who’d made it over the barrier and were advancing again in a straight rank. Another three had made it; none seemed to be changing, and none had crossbows. It should be easy to avoid them … pikes were too heavy to throw far. He distrusted “easy” when his own supporters were on the other side of the enemy and immobile.
Linne and Cern both drew and released; the arrows sang through the air but stopped short of the creatures as if they had hit an invisible wall.
So much for easy.
Then he heard Sergeant Vardan. “Get moving!” she yelled at her squad. She took a step forward, slow, as if she were pulling herself free of deep mud, but she moved. “What are you, raw recruits in your first skirmish? Halverics! Pick up your feet, you lumps! Falk’s Oath in gold! That’s our
king
over there. Move!”
Behind her, the others began moving—older veterans first and then even the newest. The spider-demon he thought of as the commander leapt at the Halverics; Kieri spurred Banner even as Linne’s next shot hit one of the others—once, twice, and then it was down.The third wavered, spurting something from its spinnerets but missing both him and Cern as Kieri, on his way past, swung and cut a deep gash in the carapace. He was just aware that Linne had paused to engage it.
Banner swerved to miss the wagon, then lunged ahead; Kieri had nothing but his sword, and the thing had reached the Halveric sergeant, seized her in its clawed forelimbs. She hacked at it with her sword, but it would not bite on the thing’s carapace. Kieri saw other Halverics coming
Dorothy Calimeris, Sondi Bruner