Chard, his force in ruins, his fragile reputation gone for ever, shouted his defiance and galloped towards the attackers. From their centre, on a jet-black horse, came a red-cloaked rider in silver armour. Chard raised his sword, slamming his spurs into the weary stallion’s flanks. The horse leapt forward.
The silver rider swung her horse at the last second and the two beasts collided. Chard was flung from the saddle as his stallion went down. The silver rider sprang from her mount and ran in just as he was trying to rise. Despairingly he swung his broadsword at her legs. She jumped nimbly and, as she landed, lashed her sabre across his face. The blade struck his temple, biting deep and dislodging his helm.
Chard fell, rolled and struggled to rise. The sabre smashed down upon his skull, glancing from the chain-mail headguard. The blow stunned him and he sagged to his back. The sabre lanced into his throat. Chard felt pain only briefly, for the sword plunged through his neck and into the cold earth beneath him.
All was quiet now, and he felt a curious sense of relief. No dead children, no raped and murdered women. Perhaps God would forgive him after all.
Perhaps…
Sigarni stepped back from the corpse and heard Asmidir order his men into the village to check on casualties. She was breathing heavily, yet her limbs felt light. Asmidir came alongside her. ‘How are you feeling?’ As he spoke, his hand came down on her shoulder.
‘Don’t touch me!’ she hissed, pulling away and turning to face him. She saw the shock and the dismay, but it was nothing to the roaring panic his contact aroused within her. ‘Stay away from me!’ she said.
‘Sigarni.’ His voice was soft, his eyes troubled. ‘You are in no danger from me. The battle is over, and I believe we have won. Calm yourself before the others see you.’
The roaring receded and she began to tremble. ‘God, what is happening to me?’ she said, dropping her sabre and sitting down on the grass.
He moved to sit opposite her. ‘I think we should blame it on the reaction to the battle, though we both know that is not the truth,’ he said sadly. ‘However, let us put that aside for now and enjoy the moment of victory. You risked it all, Sigarni. And I am proud of you. As I told you, I did not believe in the wisdom of this course. It was, in my view, too early for a confrontation. But you proved me wrong. Now perhaps you will explain why you were so confident.’
She smiled and felt some of the tension ease from her. ‘It was not confidence. You told me I must have special skills. Whether or not that is true only time will tell. But I knew I could gather no support without a victory. Who would follow me? An untried woman in a world of beaten men.’
‘But why here in Cilfallen? How did you know they would come here? There are scores of hamlets and villages throughout the Highlands.’
‘Indeed there are, and we won’t be able to protect them all. But Cilfallen was my village, and from here they took the hostages. It is also on largely open land. No major walls, no defences. Added to this, it is the closest main settlement to Citadel.’
‘And why did you believe there would be an attack?’
‘I questioned Obrin concerning Outland tactics. He believed they would send between one hundred and two hundred men.’
Asmidir smiled. ‘We could have lost it all, my lady. We gambled everything on a single throw of the dice. That is not to be recommended for every occasion, I assure you.’
Sigarni rose, then extended her hand to pull Asmidir to his feet. He looked up and met her eyes, and she knew he could see there her fear at the prospect of his touch. Slowly he reached out and clasped her wrist, rising smoothly and disengaging his grasp. ‘That took courage, did it not?’ he said.
She nodded. ‘I am sorry, Asmidir. You are a dear friend, and will always be so. But they took something from me and I cannot get it back.’