Tir Alainn - The House Of Gaian - Tir Alainn - The House of Gaian Part 79
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Tir Alainn - The House of Gaian Part 79

She crawled back up to the top of the rise and watched that fury suck men

into itself. Watched others, caught by the edge of it, flung aside as if they were nothing more than dry leaves. Archers fired into it, but nothing touched the center of that storm, and men who hesitated before turning to run couldn't match the speed of a galloping horse.

How long could Selena channel that much power? How long before that funnel of earth and wind diminished, leaving her vulnerable to attack? How long before someone managed a lucky shot that wounded Selena or the horse, leaving the Huntress trapped?

Ashk leaped to her feet. "Archers! Now!" She fired. The men around her rose as well, firing at the companies of men who had changed direction now that the wind funnel was past them and were rushing up the rise to break through the open space and attack her people from behind.

She fired until her quiver was empty. She dropped her bow and unbuckled the quiver. They were useless to her now. But when she reached for the hunting knife in her boot, she remembered she had a better weapon.

The first man to reach the top of the rise had his throat torn open by a

shadow hound.

She used her fangs to slash, her speed to dodge. She went for the throat if she could, but hamstringing a leg or tearing an arm down to the bone worked just as well to end that attacker's ability to fight.

She saw the sword slashing down, but she slipped in the grass slick with blood and gore and knew she couldn't dodge it. The stroke never fell, but the man did when a wild pig ripped open the back of one thigh with its tusks.

Their human weapons exhausted, the Fae used the weapons they had. Stags used antlers and sharp, cloven hooves. Wild pigs charged through clusters of men, ripping at legs with their tusks. The wolves among them gathered in packs and tore into flesh with fangs and fury. Hawks and falcons dove, raking heads and faces with their talons. And humans, who would have run from a wolf or a wild pig a few weeks ago, fought beside them now.

They slashed. They maimed. They killed.

And many of them died.

Then ribbons of fire swept down from the rise, racing through the grass, fanning out as they reached the middle of the field and swept over the catapults. The balls filled with meta! and liquid fire burst, spraying the enemy with their own weapon. Wind funnels twice as tall as a man danced over the field, breaking up the enemy's efforts to attack. Parts of the field turned soft as water was called to the surface, and men stumbled as they sank into mud between one step and the next.

She saw it all in glimpses, in heartbeats. But the sight of Mistrunner galloping over the rise, alone, pierced her heart-until the other shadow hound leaped on the man who had closed in on her during that moment of inattention, ripping his throat open.

They fought for hours, for what felt like days, until she was exhausted and desperate for water. She'd tried to keep them close to the top of the rise, but the fighting had brought them down into the field. A handful of men armed with knives rushed toward the two of them. There was no one else around them now. She braced for the attack. Two hounds, five men. Even if they got them all, they would also feel the knives.

Then fire streamed over their heads and hit the men chest-high. The five men rolled in the grass, screaming, burning. She nudged Selena and scrambled back to the top of the rise. Liam stood there, his face bruised and dirty, his left sleeve soaked with blood, the fingers of his right hand still sending out little drops of fire that seared the grass around his feet as he fought to ground the power he'd summoned.

Selena reached the top of the rise, clamped her teeth around Liam's right wrist, and dragged him down the other side far enough to be out of sight of the enemy longbowmen.

Ashk stopped as soon as she was safe, changed back into human form, and collapsed. Her muscles screamed in protest, but she crawled the arm's length needed to peer over the rise.

The enemy was retreating, heading back toward the cover of the trees on the other side of the field. She looked toward the road. Yes, men were retreating there, too. They'd held them off, but they hadn't won. Would never win until they'd dealt with the Master Inquisitor once and for all. But there was time now for the rest of the Clans and companies of men scattered around Willowsbrook to reach this place.

Her throat tightened as she looked at the bodies in the field, some moving but more laying still. She saw a stag struggle to its feet and begin its painful way toward the rise, hobbling on three legs. And she saw the arrows pierce it-arrows from the enemy longbowmen who had taken up position in the tumble of huge stones. She bared her teeth as other wounded, trying to make their way to safety, were shot down.

She rose to her hands and knees, snarling when a strong hand pushed her back down.

"You've done all you can today," the man said, dropping down beside her.

"I'll do what needs to be done," she snapped.

"You already have."

Impotent rage filled her as she watched more wounded fall. "Mother curse them! May their land and their women be barren for a hundred years."

"Do you really mean that?" he asked quietly.

She turned her head to say something cutting-and saw the pentagram

hanging from a chain around his neck. And was suddenly afraid of what might happen if she said yes to this Son of the House of Gaian.

She looked away. "No. The Black Coats and the barons who followed them

in the name of greed and ambition deserve whatever comes to them. But not the men and women who just want to live free of fear. Not the children. Not the land." She hesitated, then added, "Do no harm."

He nodded. "But even within the words of our creed there is room for

justice, and justice can sometimes be harsh."

Not knowing how to respond to that, she focused on the low-voiced argument going on behind her and shook her head. "Don't waste your breath, Selena. He's gentry and he's a baron. The only way you'll get your point across is to nip him so that he's reminded of it for a week every time he tries to sit down."

"Is that what you do with your man?" the Son asked.

"On occasion. When he needs it."

He grinned, then sobered as he looked out over the field again. "Fog."

"What?"

He nodded toward the field. "A heavy fog. If we blanket the field, their

longbowmen will be blind. We can go out and help the wounded to safety."

"If they're blind, so are we. Anyone going out too far could end up walking right into the enemy."

"Would you rather leave them out there?"

Ashk shook her head.

"Problem is, fog is even harder to hold than a storm. We can create it, but it

will drift. It's well into the afternoon now. By dusk, there will be banks of fog as far back as the Old Place. But I think it's our best chance."

"What's our best chance?" Selena asked, coming up behind them.

"Fog," Ashk replied.

Selena considered this and nodded. "It will drift, but that's not a bad thing.

The Black Coats haven't been here long enough to know the lay of the land.

I don't think they'll be anxious to move men when they can't see if they're about to tumble down a creekbed or walk into a tree."

"We'll take care of it," the Son said.

Selena studied him. "My thanks. In that case, I'm going to take Liam back to

his house to get his arm sewn up. He stands there bleeding like a stuck pig and insists he's fine. The jackass."

"Thank you very much, Lady Selena," Liam said stiffly. "It's always a

pleasure to discuss things with you."

"Just nip him," Ashk muttered.

"I heard that."

"You were meant to."

"You'll go with them," the Son said.

Ashk gave the man a cool stare. "I'll decide when to go back to the house."

"Which is now because you're a sensible woman who needs food and rest in

order to prepare for what will come tomorrow. You're only annoyed because

you know I'm right."

Ashk looked at Selena, who shrugged. Studying the Son, she said, "Have you spent much time among the human gentry?"

He shook his head. "Do you think I need lessons in persuasive speaking?"

"No, I think you could give them."

Ashk stepped out of the house. The Son had been right about the fog drifting. It was eerier somehow when it parted suddenly, providing a clear view for a few seconds before drawing a veil back over the land. But it had hidden the men who had gone into the field to search for the wounded, and

they had brought back more than she dared hope for. Many of the Fae were too hurt or dazed or frightened to change back to their human form, but as one human told her when he walked up to the house with a Fae in his arms, it was easier to carry a fox than a man.

So many wounded. So many dead. She was grateful to Gwenn and Lyrra for making a record of the men arriving, writing down names and Clans or a human's home village. It had helped to see the names of those who had come back to them, even if they were wounded. And it helped to receive copies that had been sent from the other gentry houses who were taking in wounded.