avoiding a sudden reversal of direction by the flaming creature, and rolled on the sand, coming to his feet in a crouch, his sword ready.
Then he saw Servan running in his direction, shouting something that Jommy couldn’t make out, but pointing directly at him. At the same instant Jommy sensed someone behind him and realized that Servan wasn’t pointing at him, but at something behind him. He fell to his left, rolled and turned, seeing the blade cut through the air that would have taken his head had Servan not warned him.
Jommy didn’t even think of trying to stand, but instead lashed out with his sword, cutting the man across the heel, severing the tendon. The man screamed and almost fell on top of Jommy. Jommy now shoved his sword point into the raider’s armpit. Blood flowed down the man’s side as the raider tried to retaliate with a looping blow designed to take Jommy’s arm off.
Jommy rolled again, hearing the sword strike sand. Now he was on his back. Knowing this was as poor a position for a fight as could be, Jommy kept rolling until he could again see his opponent. Then someone stepped over him and a sword point thrust down, ending the raider’s life.
Servan reached down and pulled Jommy to his feet. “We’ve got to fall back!” shouted the young nobleman. “That thing is still killing anything near it, and it’s getting hotter by the minute.”
Jommy didn’t need his companion to tell him that; he could feel waves of heat rolling off the creature. Steam exploded from every step it took in the wet sand. Men on all sides were still locked in struggle, but there was nothing remotely organized about the conflict, and Jommy knew there was no way to coordinate any sort of counterattack or even organize an orderly withdrawal. “We need to have everyone fall back to that big rock over there!” Jommy shouted, pointing with his sword.
Servan nodded. “I don’t know where the General or the Captain are.”
They paused and looked up and down the cove, until Servan cried, “Up there!”
Jommy saw Kaspar and Captain Stefan fighting back to back twenty yards up the hillside as half a dozen pirates circled them. Jommy looked at Servan.
“What now?”
Jommy was a good leader in the field and had a rudimentary grasp of tactics, but Servan was a born leader, a first-rate strategist as well as an instinctive tactician. “That big rock is our rally point, and I’ll try to get to them—”
Jommy looked over again to where Kaspar and Stefan fought, and saw Jim Dasher—again seemingly out of nowhere—appear behind the two men fighting Kaspar. With a dagger in each hand he stabbed both men in the back of the neck, and they dropped instantly to the ground. Suddenly it wasn’t six against two, but four against three, and as one of the men turned to see what happened to his companions, Kaspar ran him through and it was three against three.
Jommy shouted, “I’ll go this way, you go that, get the men moving! Get word to the General where we rally!”
Servan nodded and ran off, circling away from the flailing tower of flames that howled and lashed out in all directions. Jommy headed down the beach to where a knot of his men faced off against an equal number of pirates. Both sides seemed more concerned with getting untangled than with killing one another. Jommy shouted, “To me!”
Breaking off the fight, his men retreated toward him, and within moments a fairly orderly withdrawal was under way. Moving to the agreed-upon position, Jommy motioned for the men to follow. “Rally at that rock. Look for the General!”
Now the conjured creature, burning as brightly as the hottest fire Jommy had ever seen, lumbered in his direction. “Watch out!” he warned, and motioned for his men to move off and circle around to the rally point.
As they pulled away from the flaming monstrosity, men shouted that another boat was landing. “Things are getting out of hand,” Jommy said to himself. As he glanced to see