Blood of the Fold

Brogan said nothing to the men; if he was to go after the Mother Confessor, it cou!d only be the three of them. With the storm, three might be able to slip away, but the whole fist would not. That many men would surely be seen and confronted, there would be a battle, and they would probably all be killed. The Blood of the Fold were fierce fighters, but they were no match for the D'Harans' numbers. Worse, from what he had seen the D'Harans were no strangers to battle. Better to simply leave the men here as a diversion. They couldn't betray what they didn't know.

Brogan cracked open the thick oak door and peered out into the night. He saw only swirling snow lit by the dim light coming from a few of the second-floor rear windows. He would have extinguished the lamps, but he needed the little light they provided in order to find the unfamiliar stables in the storm.

"Stay close to me. If we're confronted by soldiers they will try to prevent us from leaving. We can't allow that. We must be off after the Mother Confessor."

"But, Lord General — "

"Be quiet," Brogan snapped. "If they try to stop us, you had better get us through. Understand?"

"If there be many, I can only — "

"Don't test me, Lunetta. You said you would do better. I'm giving you that chance. Don't fail me again."

She pulled her pretties close. "Yes, Lord General."

Brogan blew out the lamp just inside the hall and then pulled Lunetta through the doorway out into the blizzard, wading with her into the drifts. Galtero would have the horses saddled by now. They had only to make it to the horses. In this snow, the D'Harans wouldn't have time to see them coming or to stop them once they were on horseback. The dark rise of the stable buildings drew closer.

Out of the snow, shapes began appearing — soldiers. When they saw him they called out to their fellows and at the same time drew steel. Their voices didn't cany far in the howling wind, but they carried enough to collect a swarm of big men.

They were all around. "Lunetta, do something."

She cocked an arm with fingers clawed as she began summoning a spell, but the men didn't hesitate. They ran forward with weapons raised. He flinched as an arrow zip past his cheek. The Creator had provided a gust of wind that carried the shaft wide, sparing him. Lunetta ducked as arrows ripped past.

Seeing men rushing toward him from all directions, Tobias drew his sword. He thought to make it back to the palace, but that way, too, was blocked. There were too many. Lunetta was so busy trying to ward off the arrows that she couldn't call a spell to protect them. She squealed in fright.

Just as suddenly as the arrows had started, they stopped. Tobias heard screams carried on the wind. He snatched Lunetta's arm and sprang through the deep drifts, hoping to make the stables. Galtero would be there.

Several men moved to block him. The one closest cried out as as shadow passed in front of him. The man tumbled face-first into the snow. Tobias watched in confusion as the other men began swinging swords at the gusts of wind.

The wind cut them down without mercy.

Tobias stumbled to a halt, blinking at what he was seeing. D'Harans all around him were dropping, Shrieks lifted on the howling wind. He saw snow stained red. He saw men fall in their tracks, spilling their guts.

Tobias licked his lips, afraid to move lest the wind take him, too. His gaze darted in every direction as he tried to make sense of what was happening, tried to see the attackers.

"Dear Creator," he called out, "spare me! I do your work!"

Men were converging on the stable yard from every direction, and they were being brought down as fast as they came. Well over a hundred corpses already littered the snowy field. He had never seen men slain with such speed or brutality.

Tobias crouched down, and was startled to realize that the twirling gusts were moving deliberately.

They were alive. He began to make them out. White-caped men slipped all around him, attacking the D'Haran soldiers with swift and deadly grace. Not one of the D'Harans tried to flee; they all came on fiercely, but none managed to engage the enemy before they were quickly dispatched.

The night fell silent but for the wind. Before there was time to run, it was over. The ground was cluttered with a jumble of still, dark shapes. Tobias turned all about, but saw none left alive. Already, the snow was beginning to drift over the bodies. In another hour they would vanish under the white fury.

The caped men skimmed fluidly through the snow, graceful and slithery, moving as if they were made of wind. As they came toward him, his sword slipped from his numb fingers. Tobias wanted to call out to Lunetta to strike them down with a spell, but as they came into the light, his voice failed him.

They were not men.