‘I noticed,’ said Kaelin. ‘Let’s not get complacent, though. We need to spread out more. Tomorrow we are going to need to look like a much larger force.’
‘If we spread too thin we’ll not be able to concentrate firepower,’ said Rayster.
‘Once the concerted attacks begin tell the men to fall back to the church and outlying buildings. We’ll make a last stand there.’
‘Maybe the Stormrider will come galloping to the rescue again,’ said Korrin.
‘Not this time. Go and speak to the men. Tell them that if any wish to leave they can. We all have families back home. They should at least be offered the chance to return to them.’
‘I’ll do that,’ said Korrin, ‘but no-one will leave, Kaelin.’
‘I know.’ Suddenly he laughed. ‘If anyone had ever told me I’d be risking my life so that Varlish soldiers could make a withdrawal I’d have laughed in his face.’
‘Some of those boys are fine lads,’ said Korrin, ‘Varlish or no. And I like Beck. I’ll bet there’s a touch of clan in him somewhere.’
Korrin moved away to spread the word among the men. Rayster remained with Kaelin. ‘How is the shoulder?’
‘Painful.’
‘You were lucky. I thought for a moment he had speared your heart.’
‘Came close.’ Kaelin grinned. ‘Lucky for me that Eldacre lad was close by.’
‘Aye, it was luck. Let’s hope it holds. I’d like to see Sorrow Bird again. I love that lake.’
‘It’s a beautiful spot right enough.’
Kaelin settled down on his back. The hard ground felt soft as a feather bed, and he lay there thinking about the man who had saved him.
Enemy musketeers had almost broken through. The Rigante rushed in, and with the aid of some Eldacre men turned them back. As the enemy were retreating one of the musketeers had run at Kaelin, his bayonet lancing into the clansman’s shoulder. Kaelin had fallen. The musketeer loomed above him, his blood-drenched blade poised to strike through Kaelin’s heart. A young Eldacre volunteer had leapt at him, knocking him from his feet. A shot sounded. The Eldacre man spun and then toppled to the ground. The enemy musketeer rose again. Kaelin pulled his Emburley from his belt and shot him in the head. Then he scrambled to the Eldacre man. He had been hit just under the breastbone. There was little blood and his face had gone grey. Rayster appeared alongside. He patted the dying young man’s shoulder. ‘I thank you for your courage,’ said Kaelin.
‘I’ve got a wife and youngsters,’ whispered the man. ‘Will I live?’
‘No, lad,’ said Rayster. ‘You are mortally hit.’
‘I’ll burn then,’ he said. The Source will burn me.’
‘You’ll not burn,’ said Kaelin. ‘A brave young man like you, fighting for your homeland. Nonsense.’
‘I’ve done . . . bad things.’
‘We all have,’ Rayster told him. ‘But today you gave your life to save a man you didn’t know. That will count.’
‘I know him. He’s Kaelin Ring. I saw him once – back in Black Mountain.’
‘I used to go there often,’ said Kaelin. ‘Were you in barracks there?’
‘Yes, but I saw you walking with your wife. I was with my family. I waved to you. You remember? By the stream?’
‘Yes,’ said Kaelin, though truth to tell he did not. Tell me your name, and if I live I shall find your family and tell them what you did here today.’ The man whispered his name, and then reached up and gripped Kaelin’s arm. Pain from the bayonet wound flared, but he showed no sign of it.
‘I will burn for what I did,’ said the man, tears in his eyes. Tell her I was drunk. Tell her that I am sorry. Tell her . . .’ He sagged back. A tremor went through him and he died. Kaelin eased the dead fingers from his arm. He was still pondering the young man’s death when he fell asleep.
Rayster woke him with the dawn. Kaelin sat up. ‘Have we not withdrawn?’ he said. ‘I heard no wagons.’
There has been no movement,’ said Rayster. ‘Obviously Beck changed his mind. Maybe the enemy have moved behind us.’ The clansman glanced across towards the church. ‘Now there is an idiot!’ he said, pointing towards an officer walking across the open ground. The man seemed to have no care. He waved at Kaelin as he approached.