True Magics (47 page)

The crowd cheered, the Archbishop waved his blessing and turned away. The criers stepped down. The one on the Church court stairs walked quickly back to the courthouse. The students watched him go, eyes wide and worried.

“Close ranks!” Thomas yelled. “Close ranks and stand ready!”

The Fencing Master grabbed Thomas’s elbow and spun him around. “You don’t give orders! You hear me?”

“Obey the Archbishop!” screamed the nearest preacher. “Obey him and lay the students low! Lay them all low! Now!”

The mob howled and surged up the stairs.

“Defence!” screamed Thomas even as the Fencing Master’s hand closed on his collar and yanked him off balance. Thomas flailed and tried to pull himself upright. Behind them, the door to the Church courts swung wide open. A company of Church soldiers, swords and shields at ready, stood in the doorway.

Thomas moved, locking the Fencing Master’s elbow and driving his boot into the side of the man’s knee. Master Brennan yelled in pain and lost his balance, his hand pulling away from Thomas’s cloak as he fell. Thomas spun and ran to where his own company stood. Then the crowd was on them.

The mob slammed against the students like a storm wave against sticks on the beach. Some students lost their footing from the impact, and several were pulled into the crowd. The students swung their staves hard, cracking wood into flesh and bone. Those around them began yelling and crying in pain. The nearest attackers tried to back off, but the weight of the people behind drove them forward into the staves. Dozens were beaten to the ground and trampled on.

Horns sounded from all corners of the square.

The preacher screamed and the people charged forward again. The students lashed out, breaking heads and arms, crushing shoulders and sending men and women to the ground. Still the people attacked, and more students were pulled out of formation and into the roiling mob around them.

“What now?” demanded George.

“We’re getting out of here!” Thomas shouted back. “Spread the word!”

The crowd attacked with fists and sticks. Some had knives. The students smashed at them with their staves. There were swirls of motion around the troop where the students who’d been dragged out of formation were being beaten and kicked. Thomas swore, knowing he could do nothing for them.

Horns sounded again from all sides, and Thomas realized it was the Church’s cavalry blowing them.
If they come at us we’re dead.

“Thomas!” Thomas turned and saw Eileen pointing behind. The soldiers were marching out of the Church courts, shields high and swords at ready.

“Get down the stairs!” Thomas screamed, pushing himself to the front of the formation. “Form up at the bottom! Spread the word!”

The students yelled the orders to one another. Thomas shouted, “Now!” and began swinging his staff. A man in front of him fell and Thomas stepped forward over his body. The mob surged around the students and for a moment Thomas wasn’t sure they’d be able to go anywhere. Then the formation lurched forward, driving people back or crushing them underfoot. From all sides, yells of pain and outrage, battle cries, and the sound of fighting filled the air.

The Church soldiers spread out, making a wall of bodies and steel. Several times they clashed with the retreating students. Several students fell, crying in pain or lying still after the soldier’s swords cut into them
.

When the students reached the bottom of the steps, the mob surrounded them on all sides.

Which protects us from the soldiers,
Thomas thought,
if it doesn’t kill us.
“Everyone stay in formation! We’re leaving!”

Voices rose in protest.

“My brother’s in there!”

“We can’t leave them behind!”

“We’re leaving!” Thomas screamed. Thomas smashed his staff onto a man’s head, knocking him out of the way. “Student Company behind me! Everyone follow!”

They drove toward the side street, only twenty yards away. Their staves crushed skulls and their boots trampled anyone who fell in front of them. George walked beside Thomas, laying about him with his stick. There were cries from students as well, as more were pulled from the ranks and into the mob. Thomas kept driving the troop onward, knowing the mob would take them all if they stopped.

“The soldiers are coming!” someone yelled. “They’re coming down the stairs!”

“Keep moving!” Thomas screamed, not sure if he could be heard at all. “Keep moving or we’re all dead!”

Twenty yards became fifteen, fifteen became ten. Thomas’s arms were exhausted. He kept swinging, kept stepping forward, knowing that only the movement kept them from being overwhelmed.

Ten yards became five, and then there was no one in front of students anymore, only an empty street. Some of the students began running, dashing away from the chaos and violence behind them.

“My company and smiths against the wall!” Thomas yelled. “Everyone else stay in formation and keep moving! Stay in formation!”

Some listened, though not all. Thomas caught some that tried to run and shoved them back. Others dashed away. Slowly, the last of the formation trickled out of the square. George worked his way over to Thomas. “What now?”

“Rear guard,” said Thomas. “Ten wide. The company and your smiths. Get them ready.”

The last of the students pushed their way out of the square. The crowd followed, keeping their distance from the staves of the students.

“Form a line!” Thomas shouted. “Block the street! Michael! William! Rally the others! Keep them together!” He ran and took position, George right beside him. The Student Company and the smiths fell in behind them, forming two lines across the alley and swinging at the mob. “Anyone seen Master Brennan?”

“He went down on the stairs,” yelled someone behind Thomas.

“What now?” asked one of the smiths.

“Keep going!” said Thomas. “Back away. Slow and steady!” The students behind him were mostly bloody and bruised with torn clothes. All of them looked scared and angry. Thomas called back to them. “We walk, slow and steady! When I shout “Go!” we run! When I shout “Stop!” we turn and brain anyone who is following! Got it?”

“Aye,” said a half-hundred voices behind him.

“If we break, we die, so stay together!”

Thomas could hear the preachers screaming at the mob. The weight of the mob’s numbers pushed the people forward, but the street was too narrow for them to overwhelm the students. Thomas kept students moving slowly backwards, smashing anyone who came near with staves and iron bars for another half-block.

“Go!”

The troop turned and ran, their formation dissolving as the faster passed the slower. The mob roared and ran after. Thomas forced the last two ranks to stay back and keep together. He let them run for a block. “Stop!”

Most of the students pulled to a halt and turned. Some kept going. Thomas couldn’t blame them. The frontrunners of the mob were close behind. “Attack!”

The students and smiths swung their weapons and men fell to the ground, unconscious or crying in pain. Thomas kept them attacking until the crowd’s momentum was stopped and there was space between the groups.

“Go!”

Three more times they did it, and each time, fewer people followed. On the last time there were no more than twenty, and the students beat them all down or sent them fleeing. No one was close enough to pursue.

“Get in formation!” Thomas ordered. “Everyone form up and get ready to march!”

The students milled about until they got into something resembling order. Thomas had them assemble into rows of five and did a quick count. Seventeen rows and two extras.
Eighty-seven,
Thomas realized.
Plus the Student Company and the smiths. Out of more than two hundred.

He looked for members of the company. Marcus was missing. So were Jonathan, Bruce and Mark. Thomas cursed in his head. “We’re marching back to the Academy! We’re taking the back streets, and with luck we’ll get there without having to kill anyone else.”

“You… you think we killed people?” said a young man Thomas didn’t know.

“Yes,” said Thomas. “And we hurt a lot more, and they’re going to be coming for us, so we need to get back to the Academy before they do. Who knows this area?”

“I do,” said one student, coming forward.

“Name?”

“Percy, Captain.”

“Percy, you’re leading us. We need a route back to the Academy as fast as you can, without taking us down any major streets, can you do it?”

“Aye, Captain. I think so.”

“Good. Get to the front.”

They followed Percy through the streets at a fast walk. Some were limping, others cradled hurt limbs. Most of the faces had blood on them. No one complained or asked the company to slow down.

All round them they heard chanting and fighting. Once a troop of city watchmen came down a side street towards them, looking as beat and battered as the students themselves were. The watchmen stopped and let them go by.

When they were away from the cathedral, another student whose parents lived in the area took over, leading them down more side streets. A third took over in the next neighbourhood.

“We’re nearly there,” said Thomas. “So hold together!”

“What do you think happened to everyone else?” asked Eileen. “The other students, I mean.”

“A lot of them ran once we broke free of the square,” said Thomas “The rest… were probably killed.”

Eileen went pale. “By the Four.”

“Aye.”

They walked on in grim, exhausted silence. Cries of battle and the sound of mobs came from all around. When they entered the student quarter, Thomas practically collapsed in relief. He forced himself to take the lead instead.

“There!” shouted someone. “The Broken Quill!”

“Thank the Four,” muttered Eileen.

“Let’s stop for a drink!” called someone else, eliciting a ragged round of laughter.

“Nearly there!” called Thomas. “Only a few blocks to the Academy.”

They were halfway down the block when a troop of Church cavalry rode out of the street ahead of them, blocking their way.

Oh, by the Four, no.
Thomas turned and looked behind. More cavalry poured out of the street on the other end of the block.

“We’re trapped,” said Eileen.

“They’ll kill us,” a student moaned.

“Keep moving!” snapped Thomas, his eyes on the Broken Quill.

They did, and Thomas could feel the students panic rising all around him. The cavalry on either end of the street stayed where they were. Thomas waited until they were in front of the Broken Quill and called. “Stop!”

“You lot!” shouted one of the cavalrymen as Thomas ran to the door and pounded on it. “Weapons down and surrender! You’re under arrest.”

“You have no authority to arrest us!” yelled Thomas, more to buy time than anything else. “We are the King’s Students!”

Marcus and Fenris, clubs in hand, opened the door and stepped outside. They looked up the street, then down it, then at Thomas.

“Have you brought us trouble, Thomas Flarety?” asked Marcus.

“Lots of it,” said Thomas. “They’ll ride us down and slaughter us if you don’t let us in.”

“We don’t like people killing our customers,” said Fenris, stepping out of the way of the door. “It’s bad for business.”

“Get inside,” said Marcus. “Fast.”

“Go!” said Thomas. “Closest first! Walk and wait your turn! Anyone who runs or shoves gets brained! Now move it!”

The students did as they were told, though most were practically shaking with desperation. Thomas ran out to the middle of the street, yelling, “My company, take the lines! We’re in last!”

There were only eight of Thomas’s company left, including Eileen, and they spread out as best they could while the cavalry on either end of the block readied themselves to attack.

There’s no way to get everyone off the street,
Thomas realized.
Not in time.

The Church cavalry could only fit three horses across in the space, and the riders were practically rubbing their ankles against one another. Someone shouted an order, and the cavalry at one end of the block began moving forward. Thomas looked the other way and saw that the other troop was staying where they were, waiting to be the anvil to the first group’s hammer.

The students on the line raised staves and swords. The ones at the door saw what was coming and began shoving their way inside the building. The moving wall of men and horseflesh and steel gained speed.

We’re all going to die unless…

Thomas raised his hand, opened it, and sent lightning out to smash into the first horse and rider. The explosion rattled the windows around them. Man and horse both convulsed and fell, taking down the horses on either side. Thomas heard the bones of the horses snapping as they fell. The animals started screaming. The men behind pulled hard on their reins and wheeled their horses around.