The House Of Gaian

Elinore and Edgar.
    “Yes, sir. The Hunter said to warn the ladies of the house that the fighting has started along the road to the village and the low rise where she sent some of the men this morning. I’m to ride to the camps around here and give the word they’re to come and be quick.”
    “Go on then, and be quick yourself,” Liam said. “Ashk didn’t send enough men to hold that rise if the Inquisitors start throwing companies of men at them.”
    The Fae rider wheeled his horse and galloped toward the pasture gate. Before any of the boys around the stable could run to open the gate, his horse cleared it and kept running.
    Liam stripped off his coat. Pulling Edgar aside, he thrust the coat into the man’s arms. “I want you to stay here.”
    “Aye, that’s what I was told when the rest of the men headed out with Varden’s huntsmen this morning.”
    Edgar smiled grimly. “Everyone agreed we needed one man to stay to keep the boys on their chores, and I drew the short straw.”
     
    In more ways than you know , Liam thought grimly. Keeping his voice low, he said, “Cover the nighthunter with the coat, and make sure it’s completely covered. Then get Breanna into the house.”
    Edgar nodded. “I’ll get a hand cart and take the creature away from the house before I bury it.”
    “You’ll take kindling and lamp oil with you. After you dig the hole, you put that thing in and burn it before you finish burying it.”
    “Burn it!”
    Liam gripped Edgar’s arm hard enough to make the other man wince. “Listen to me. That creature, no matter what it once had been, was a nighthunter, and we burn nighthunters. That’s all the ladies need to know. That’s all they ever need to know.”
    “All right, Baron. If it’s that important to you, I’ll do just as you say.”
    Stepping away from Edgar, he approached Elinore.
    “Where’s Keely?” Elinore asked quietly.
    Liam swallowed hard. “Keely’s dead.”
    Elinore looked at Breanna. “You have to go. I know that. But be careful, Liam. Please be careful. Not just for my sake, but for hers.”
    He kissed her cheek. “I’ll be back.”
    “See that you are. We’ll look after Breanna.”
    Since he could think of nothing more to say, he strode to the stables, mounted his horse, and rode away toward the battle.

 

     
     

Chapter 48

 

     
     

     
    waning moon
     
    When they were in sight of the low rise, Ashk and Selena reined in.
    Ashk scanned the land in front of her, troubled by the smell of burned meat that hung in the air. There were too many men moving toward the rise for her to see much, but the skittish way they swung around objects caught her attention.
    “What’s burning?” Selena asked.
    At that moment, a ball sailed over the low rise and smashed into a company of men. Blood fountained from the neck of one man as he fell. Others screamed as clothes and skin burst into flames.
    “Mother’s tits! What is that? ” Ashk saw one of the western Fae riding toward her and raised her hand in a commanding summons. When he reined in, she looked at the barely conscious man he carried in front of him and felt her gorge rise. She hoped he was a stranger and that was the reason she couldn’t recognize his face. “Report.”
    “We’re outnumbered,” the huntsman said. “And spread out too thin. Our longbowmen have managed to keep them from coming up the rise, but there’s hundreds of them marching across that field and we—”
    He glanced at the burned and wounded men.
    “What is that?” Ashk said.
    “Fire,” Selena replied in a queer voice. “But not natural fire. Not the Mother’s fire.”
    The huntsman nodded. “One of the humans said the Black Coats have catapults. They’re firing clay pots that shatter when they hit the ground or a man. Some are filled with scraps of metal that are flung in all directions when the pot breaks. Some have a liquid that burns when it meets air. Some have both. We’re losing a third of the men before they make it up to the rise to fight.“
    “Where are you going with him?” Ashk asked.
    “Message from Lyrra and Gwenn. They’re sending carriages, wagons, anything they can to bring the wounded back to the gentry houses. They should be— There!” The huntsman pointed.
    Ashk looked over her shoulder. Lyrra might have thought to send the conveyances, but Gwenn, married to a baron, would have known which ones to send. A pony cart, an open carriage, a farm wagon. They could travel over rougher