Esra (40 page)

XXXIV

“Esra, come with us!” Nadia pulled her against a street barricade and hastily began to scale the wall of carts and grain bags.  Esra followed clumsily, an Elite grabbing at her ankle as she swayed backwards, almost losing her balance.  She kicked violently out of their grasp and clambered eagerly over the top of the blockade.  They jumped down into an alleyway where Fynn was already waiting. 

“The sorcerers, we have to get to the sorcerers,” Nadia panted.  “They’re casting new protective spells over the soldiers and I think if we can take care of that, the Unni will be able to finish them off.  We need to come around the side of the hill, get close enough so that Fynn and I can cast striking spells.”

“What do ye need me to do?”

“There are still a couple soldiers guarding the flanking sides.  Fynn can’t shoot an arrow and I can’t throw a spear until they come around that curve.  If we aim too high the sorcerers will see us.  We need a straight shot.  Can ye get them to chase ye back towards the town a little?”

“Ye want me to be the bait?”  Esra asked incredulously.

“No,” Fynn jabbed her teasingly with his elbow. “We want ye te be the distraction so that the ugly mongers will chase ye while we shoot from a protected, safe distance.”

“Oh, well in that case…” Esra rolled her eyes.

“B’sides, yer much prettier than some worm on a hook.  Although maybe the foul Elites would prefer a slimy, stinky… ”

“Alright,” Nadia interrupted, slinging the quiver that held her throwing spears over her shoulder.  Esra still couldn’t get used to the idea that this tiny shimmering woman could launch a spear almost as far and fast as any bow and arrow.  “We need to move now.  Fynn and I are going to wait by that barricade.  Esra, go find Roja and wait fer our signal to approach.  And make sure that ye get all of the soldiers to follow ye.  Otherwise the rest of our plan will be much harder to accomplish.”

With that Nadia turned and sped from the alley and towards the side of the hill to hide, Fynn close at her heels.  Esra stared for a moment before turning around with a resigned sigh. 

“Where
did
I leave my Horse,” she mumbled, darting back towards the street.  She climbed halfway up the barricade and whistled shrilly.  Not able to make out much from the clamor of weapons on the other side, she pulled herself up to the top to get a better view.  Scanning the crowd hastily, she caught sight of an Elite archer whose sights were set directly on her.  Diving quickly off the barricade as the arrow whizzed by her head, she landed hard on her feet, a sharp pain shooting up her right leg.  Grimacing against the sting, she whistled again.

This time, she only caught the attention of an injured Elite, who came at her with a stumbling swing.  Caught off guard and with her sword hanging helplessly at her side, Esra did an impromptu jump and roll to the right, unsheathing her sword and stabbing at the soldier as she sprung up.  Instead of piercing his skin, the sword wobbled unsteadily and pushed away.

Stupid defensive spells
, Esra cursed as she danced in a wide circle, noticing now that most of her allies had abandoned the offensive and were practicing the same evasive maneuvers.  Out of the corner of her eye she saw a Skycatcher rear loudly and come down upon an Elite.  The soldier was uninjured but lay pinned from the weight of the Horse, which hovered almost a foot above his body.  It was Fariel, her grandparents’ great grey Steed that Baelin rode.  She continued to maneuver around the soldier, who was quickly tiring of her avoidance as she scanned the crowds for her blacksmith friend.  The Elite was breathing heavily, spittle spraying out of his brown crooked teeth.  He stabbed at Esra and she jumped backwards, throwing her hands sideways to avoid his blade.  He raised his sword overhead to deal a final deathly blow, but Esra anticipated his move and dodged out of the way, and he stumbled on the uneven street.  Taking advantage of his momentary lapse in the offensive, she took three great, staggering steps towards Fariel and leapt upon his back. 

The Skycatcher whinnied loudly in surprise, then recovered in the next instant as he recognized his rider.  Fariel turned and jumped easily over the barricade as Esra directed him down the narrow lane.  Turning out of the side street, the noise of the town grew more muddled as she galloped towards the hillside where Nadia and Fynn were waiting. 

“
Allor Etta
,” she breathed, picking up the sleeve of her arm to accept the Tur message from Fynn.

Ready, wormie?

Esra managed a tired smile as she gently pushed on Fariel’s shoulder, urging him to run along the long, low side of the flanking hill.  Unlike the other hill where they had set the trap, this one was much shallower, with Esra almost visible sitting atop the Skycatcher.  There would have been no way to shoot an arrow that far without going over or around the knoll, thus alerting the sorcerers.  She forced Fariel onward at full speed and kept low to his back, knowing that every second wasted was another moment her friends and the people of Wilspry had to try and defend themselves against unattackable foes. 

Trying not to think about what lay around the curve, she reluctantly forced Fariel to slow until he was only lightly cantering around the bend.  Suddenly an Elite soldier sitting atop a Horse came into view, and then another, and another.  No longer hidden by the hill’s shadow, Fariel reared aggressively, neighing so loudly that the sorcerers that hadn’t spotted the pair spun in their seats towards the source of the noise.

Two of the soldiers immediately came towards her, their dark metal armor clicking dissonantly as the Horses began their charge.  The third soldier remained frozen in his spot, unwilling to abort his defense of the sorcerers.  Esra only had an instant to make a decision, knowing that she needed to get all of the soldiers to follow her.  She lunged forward just before the two soldiers reached her, and to her surprise Fariel leapt cleanly over one of the Horses, landing gracefully on the other side of both Elites.  Stunned at the Skycatchers great feat and her inability to plan beyond that impulsive move, Esra paused briefly before urging Fariel towards the lone holdout.

What am I doing?
  She panicked, knowing she was heading straight for six powerful Elite sorcerers like a suicidal madwoman. The one slightly amused soldier gave his opponent a sneer as he began to gallop towards her.  Suddenly there was a commotion from behind and a familiar voice called out to Esra.

“
Preyn huvvi raghn
!”  The voice shouted just before she reached the soldier, releasing the defensive spell that was protecting him.  As the soldier was not prepared to defend against any attack, she cut easily through the skin beneath his helmet.  Turning towards her rescuer, she watched as he knocked an Elite off her Horse with a staff to the face, stabbing the other soldier underneath his dark breastplate.

“Baelin!”  Esra called to her friend.  But suddenly the sorcerers who had been uninterested in the lone demented opponent now looked at the three dead soldiers with disgust.  Four of the enchanters continued focusing their attention on Wilspry as the other two turned towards the intruders with fury.

“
Yasir brey jianka
!”  One of them shouted as a wall slammed into Esra’s body.  She knew logically it could not be a wall, that they did not in fact throw a wall at her, but the sensation was real nonetheless.  In one swift movement Esra was lifted off the Skycatcher and smashed violently into the ground.  Gasping fiercely, she barely had time to draw a painful breath before the other sorcerer looked at her warily and with a small flick of his wrist lifted her off the ground like a ragdoll, her feet dangling a hand’s breadth off the Grass.  Paralyzed by magick, Esra watched with sickening fear as the sorcerers turned towards Baelin.

She could not see anything but the furious face of the enchanter in front of her, but she could hear the low rumblings of Baelin as he cast his best defensive spells.  She thought frantically of any spell that could help her release this grasp, but she had learned little defensive magick and no offensive spells at all.  Racking her brain, she thought of the words she could use to send a Tur message to one of the others, but it kept escaping her mind.  It was as if her head were becoming foggy, no slippery, an effect of the strange magick she now felt encompassing her.  Her mind as well as her body seemed to be weaving in and out of a dream state.

       Unable to speak aloud in her paralyzing state, Esra had a sudden memory of a crisp fall night when she was a small child.  She had found a dead Whipbird in the forest, and thinking it was just asleep and too cold to move, Esra decided to make a nest for it so that she could carry it inside by the Fire.  She spent an hour gathering things she thought the Bird would like for a temporary home, soft, dry Leaves and plump Twigs of bright Berries.  Tenderly placing the Bird on his new bed, she carried it carefully back through the Trees, trying not to wake it.  When she found her grandmother in the kitchen, she was crushed to find out that the Bird was not asleep and would sing no more.  It was her first glimpse at mortality. 

A loud crackling sound brought Esra back to the present, and she saw an Elite sorcerer murmuring with open arms towards someone behind her.  She focused all her panicked energy into thinking about Tur, remembering the day with Cane in the library. 
Orro Ken Fynn
, she finally remembered.
Help
.

       She wondered how long the sorcerer was going to hold her there and toy with her.  He certainly could have killed her by now.  It was obvious that they already thought the takeover of Wilspry a success, even with the unexpected rebellion.  The four enchanters who faced the town seemed to be relaxed in their saddles, eyes open and lips barely moving in their chants.  She hoped that Baelin was alright, for she had lost sight of the other sorcerer.  And her eyelids were growing very heavy…

       Esra was unsure of how long her eyes had been closed, but a sound like a gust of air snapped them open just before she hit the ground for a second time.  She rolled over as a shimmering form glinted past her. 
Nadia
, Esra thought with relief.  The Elf twin made her stealthy way on foot towards one of the unsuspecting enchanters facing the town, her body a hazy blur in the landscape.  Fynn remained on Horseback as he engaged the sorcerer battling Baelin, allowing the blacksmith to turn his attention back towards the one that had been holding Esra hostage in the air.

       Still muddled from being hit by the wall of imprisoning magick, Esra rolled onto her knees and stood with trembling legs.  Three of the enchanters were already slumped over on their Horses or on the ground, from a physical or magickal attack she couldn’t guess.  Then she tried to unsheathe her sword, intending to make her way towards her friends, to help them, but she collapsed before taking a step.  Rolling over to stare up at the sky, Esra noticed what a clear, beautiful day it was.  Clouds were rolling by, light and fluffy, apparently unaware of the jarring chaos that ensued beneath their tranquil watch.

       Baelin appeared over her, whispering something she could not understand.  No, shouting perhaps.  It was as if he was very far away, but Esra knew he was right here, could see his face hovering before her.  It was such a bother, him blocking her view of the beautiful sky.  Esra tried to read his lips but she seemed to be unable to focus on one particular area of his face.  She felt herself being gently lifted up, and Baelin’s strong arms cradled her tall frame against his broad part-Unni chest. 

       “Ye sure are hairy,” she whispered to him half deliriously, feeling the dark, coarse fur rubbing on her arms and legs.  The look of worry on his face was replaced by relief as he laughed at her brazenness.

       “Aye, that I am,” she heard him say faintly, and she smiled up at him, wanting to thank this man who was her friend, her Keeper.  But instead she closed her eyes and relaxed against the gentle sway of his walking.  She had the sense that Nadia and Fynn were close, wondered if they had noticed the beautiful clouds above.  She couldn’t quite remember what they all had been doing.  Was it time to travel again?  Or perhaps she was late for noonmeal?

       Baelin let her slide in and out of consciousness as he carried her back towards the town, where he did not need to be told that Arland, Zakai, and the other Unni were now greedily devouring the last of the Elite warriors.  He pitied the few that had remained alive long enough to invoke his uncle’s wrath.  Although many had fallen, the town of Wilspry had survived.  He hoped with all his heart that it was a sign of things to come, but knew that this small victory would be just one step in the long road of war.  But he was a Keeper, and he would protect the freedom of the people of LeVara at any cost.  No matter what.

XXXV

       It had been a long road back to the Stronghold, filled with the mixed emotions of the victory at Wilspry and the knowledge of all that had died to make it so.  They spoke little on the three days journey, burdened with this truth and haunted by the faces of the dead townspeople.  All those in their party had survived, not without some scars of their own.  Fynn was the only one who escaped seemingly unharmed, as his Earring of Recovery healed all his wounds before the Sun could set that day.