Page 15 of The Cradle of Ice

Rami joined him. Kanthe grabbed another bolt from his quiver and fitted it in place, cranking the string taut. They watched in all directions, but no other attackers appeared.

“Must’ve been all of them,” Kanthe whispered.

They rushed across the rest of the room and reached a window that had been partially boarded shut. They peered through a broken slat. The back of Aalia’s toppled carriage lay directly ahead. It was impossible to tell how many defenders remained.

The only one in sight was Aalia’s lithe bodyguard, who still danced on the cobbles, fighting two attackers. The pile of bodies around her had grown. But the feathered end of an arrow waved from her left shoulder. Her face ran with blood, not all from her attackers.

Another assailant rushed across the street to join the fray.

The woman could not last much longer.

Not without help.

Kanthe shifted his crossbow to the gap, aimed with a steadying breath, and fired. The bolt found its intended target. The running assailant’s head snapped back, carrying his body with it. The figure crashed backward.

Rami had shifted to the door by now. It had been roped shut, but age had turned hemp to mulch. His friend slammed his shoulder into the door and burst out into the open. He rushed for cover behind the overturned coach. He made it safely, likely due to the thickening smoke—and the fact he and Rami had already dispatched the two men upstairs.

Kanthe followed, struggling with his weapon, fumbling for another bolt. As he reached the street, he spotted an abandoned bow, likely tossed here when the first war wagon exploded. A leather quiver lay steps away amidst a scatter of arrows.

He smiled at this smallest of good fortunes, not knowing which god to thank. He tossed aside the crossbow, glad to be rid of it. “Sod that.”

He scooped up the bow and gathered the arrows back into their quiver. He caught three between his fingers. He gripped their shafts firmly as he straightened. Rami nodded to him, then rounded the wagon, ready to go to the aid of the bodyguard.

Kanthe followed at his heels, stringing the first arrow in place while still holding the other two between his fingers.

Their sudden appearance from behind the wagon caught everyone off guard. Rami dispatched one of the bodyguard’s attackers. Kanthe took out the other. Together, they flanked the woman, who stumbled back a step, breathing hard.

More assailants rushed forward.

Kanthe had already shifted his wrist to fit the second arrow to the bowstring. He drew and fired. As the shaft flew, he fixed the remaining arrow in place, pulled hard, and let it loose. The two arrows struck true, dropping two figures.

Beside him, Rami twirled and spun, flashing silver through the air.

Screams followed, blood arced high, more bodies fell.

Kanthe fumbled with the quiver over his shoulder. He grasped three more arrows between his fingers and pulled them free. Before he could fit the first one in place, a leather-coated arm lunged before his face. A crossbow bolt clanged off steel, ricocheting off the small shield strapped to the bodyguard’s forearm. She shifted forward, ready to defend them both.

Kanthe concentrated on the bowmen up in the windows.

Rami dispatched swordsmen on the ground.

The battle waged for what felt like forever.

Kanthe found himself gasping. He wiped sweat from his eyes. His fingers ached. His shoulders burned. He searched his quiver, only to find it empty. Likewise, Rami had snatched up a curved sword after running out of knives.

Kanthe risked a glance to his friend, read the fear there, confirming what he knew was true.

We can’t win.

Then a loud crash drew all their attention to the left. Horses reared and snorted, tossing their armored heads. The war wagon burst past the other coach. Before it did, Kanthe saw Pratik leap into the wagon from the other carriage. The Chaaen carried an ax in both hands. The man must have chopped the carriage free of the weight of its dead horses and finally maneuvered the coach out of the way.

The armored war wagon thundered toward them.

Archers fired in all directions, driving back the attackers.

The huge cart drew to a stop amidst a clatter of hooves. A door opened on the wagon’s side, revealing a steel-plated cabin hidden beneath the open battle deck.

Now protected, Rami turned to the toppled carriage. Aalia crouched far under it. A handful of her chaaen-bound nestled with her. The others appeared dead, having used their own bodies to shield the Illuminated Rose.