"What’s going on?"

  "They’re coming," Ringus Felm whispered. "Geonar, I told you we needed to hurry! Damn it, we’re too late again!"

  "It’s not too late. Run, run after the messenger! We have to act. We have to get a message to Asternia… It’ll all be decided before the month ends. A man on horseback can still make it to the Northern Province if he rides like hell!"

  Ringus dashed out, shouting orders to the servants. Geonar gripped the armrests of his chair with white knuckles, staring out the window. Far off across the plain, past Ilvion, lights flickered in the darkness of the forest. From the fort guarding the bridge came the steady toll of the alarm bell.

  Geonar grabbed a quill from the inkwell, snatched the nearest sheet of paper, and began to write—quickly, without a date or greeting, covering the page with small, rushed letters.

  Ringus burst in, breathless, followed by a young soldier from Maclevirr’s intelligence corps.

  "Take it!" the commander said, rising with effort and handing over the letter. "Time is short, go! Hide it somewhere no one will ever find it. And remember: deliver it directly to Lord Telorand. If he’s not there, burn the letter! That’s it. Aktos be with you. Ringus, explain everything on the way to the stables. Damn it, why did I hesitate again...?"

  "Go, son, go!" Ringus panted as he and the dazed courier rushed down the stairs. "You’ll get a horse, a map, food and some coin. They haven’t reached the field yet, you’ve got a real shot! Ride out the gates, head for the eastern bridge, cross the river, and follow the road straight to Asternia! Give the letter to the governor and stay there, because this place is about to become hell!"

  Servants brought a saddled horse. Ringus helped the young man mount. The courier shouted in panic:

  "What’s happening, sir? Why the rush?"

  "Move, if you want to get out of the city alive! This is a secret mission approved by Maclevirr! Take this sword, just in case. And ride, ride out of Mainor! Now go!"

  He slapped the horse on the flank, and the rider shot off at a gallop. Hooves thundered down the dark streets. Ringus exhaled and prayed. He knew only a miracle could help now.

  ***

  Torches flared in the darkness. Archers screamed, firing volley after volley into the night forest, drawn by the clanging of approaching swords and the roar of artillery. Arquebuses answered with thunderous bangs. Pirates surrounded the village, setting houses ablaze.

  Kairu ran into the street. It was freezing, and for a moment he thought about going back for his cloak, but soldiers from the Twelfth Regiment were already pouring out of the house, scattering, drawing swords. Weapons clanged, and suddenly the space between the peasant huts filled with men in fur coats wielding cutlasses, attacking the soldiers. Blood splattered across the snow-covered road, and the clashing swords rang so fast the sounds merged into a continuous din, interrupted by the booming of cannons approaching from the woods.

  Kairu no longer understood what was happening. He heard Commandant Himlaf shout, saw Viggo rush to the barricades to support the archers, and charged toward the trees, where dark shapes of the occupiers emerged. He saw a pirate’s face, lit by firelight in the gloom. A cutlass flashed. Kairu raised his weapon just in time to block. He pivoted, let the enemy’s bulky frame pass, and struck from above, slicing through the man’s neck.

  Fire. Cold. Noise. Crash. Ringing. Clashing. Snow darkening with blood and severed limbs flying in a frenzy of battle. More silhouettes emerging—twos, threes, entire squads. Viggo screamed, retreating down the street from a charging mob of pirates. A torch flew up into the black sky and crashed through a hut’s window. The house ignited instantly from within.

  "Hold them as long as you can, but don’t waste your lives!" Himlaf roared. "No senseless sacrifices, our job is just to weaken them as much as possible before we fall back to the city!"

  "That’s... problematic..." Dalid gasped, limping and glancing back constantly. A dark trail stained the snow behind him. Half the archers on the village outskirts were dead, the rest were retreating, occasionally firing arrows to support Viggo. Kairu spotted Woody, rushed toward another pirate, his eyes scanning the road, but saw no sign of a massive figure with a bald head, eyepatch, and black cutlass.

  Strike. Block. Spin. A blade scrapes against chainmail, not a problem... This pirate is fast, but manageable. A sharp thrust upward. A step back, like a wild dance, and a sudden lunge… The fur coat tears with a rip, crimson spreading along the blade. That color dazes him, pulls him into the chaos, sends him whirling into the next fight…

  "Kairu!"

  It is Woody. A horse is galloping past, nearly knocking him over. Himlaf is shouting again, but the crackle of collapsing buildings drown his words. Bodies litter the ground. Viggo runs, pausing only to swing his axe. The moonlight shimmers on Ilvion beyond the trees. Pirates everywhere, pouring from behind every tree, catching up to them… The archers are out of arrows. Nothing can stop the dark tide.

  They ran, fighting only when forced to. The bell tolled steadily ahead. Shadows danced around them, thorny bushes and tree trunks flashed by. Someone fell, the air stank of smoke, arquebuses cracked behind. The pirates weren’t rushing. The bulk of them moved far behind, visible by flickering torchlight. They weren’t hiding, they flaunted their strength. Only a few vanguard units pursued directly. When the retreating Alvens shot one, another instantly took his place.

  Then, at last, the trees thinned, and they reached the riverbank. Ilvion churned below the cliff. Snow covered the road. The sky was still black and starless with clouds. Snowflakes fell slowly, driven into their faces by the wind. The fort came alive, soldiers crowded the bridge with arrows nocked and crossbows aimed. The towers of Mainor loomed in the distance. Kairu ran, gasping for icy air, sweat pouring down his back.

  "Faster!.. We must cross the river before they arrive! Carry the wounded, help whoever you can!"

  Bodies fell. The retreating units grew thinner. Kairu grabbed Dalid Eyring, who was shot into his leg. They were met with covering fire. A reserve unit surged forward to slow the pirates. Exhausted, Kairu reached the bridge, dashing between the tall stone towers of the fort. The planks shook underfoot, the bridge swayed. The first soldiers were already crossing. Medics came from the city to collect the wounded, those still able to fight returned to their positions. The left bank, where Mainor stood, was fortified with stone barricades. The archers took aim, the catapults were loaded.

  The pirates were in for a warm welcome.

  The fort fired, a cloud of arrows rose into the air and vanished beneath the canopy of trees. From here, from the snowy plain by the gates, screams and gunshots could be heard. And then, after another volley, a crowd of people poured onto the shore, and the fort shuddered and collapsed with a crash that drowned out the sounds of cannons. Several dozen people ran across the bridge, and on the other side, it was already being set on fire. Pirates were darting about on their side of the river, trying to fend off the last defenders of the bridge, who were retreating toward the city.

  Then came Himlaf’s shout as he rode up to them, and at that moment, the bridge flared up and with a roar collapsed into the water, breaking apart into small pieces of timber. One of the pirates who had already made it across screamed, soldiers fell upon them, pinned them against the river, and Kairu heard only blood-curdling screams. Sweat was pouring under his helmet; he looked back again. The pirates were going wild on the far shore; in the water, those who had fallen with the bridge thrashed about, swept away by the churning current.

  Hundreds of people with torches scattered along the bank. Shouts were heard. One of the officers barked a command, the archers released a volley all at once, and corpses toppled into the water on the far side of the river. The enormous moon lit up the crossing and the remains of the bridge, which the drowning clung to in desperation. Cannons appeared on the shore and fired at the fortifications.

  Snow flew in fountains in every direction, several bodies were flung into a bloody heap. The cannons thundered nearly in unison, preventing the defenders from even peeking out; then came the crackle of arquebuses. Crouching behind the rocks, Kairu gritted his teeth and waited as careless soldiers died around him.

  Hoarse commands from commanders could be heard, horses galloped across the plain, leaving their dead riders behind somewhere in the snow. The volleys quieted a little. Kairu lifted his head slightly and saw: under cover of their own artillery, boats were crossing the river.

  ***

  "They anticipated this possibility," said the king, who had been watching the battle through the window. He turned around. "Clever devils! They brought boats with them for the crossing!"

  "It wasn’t hard to predict," grumbled Geonar. "The bridge is our most vulnerable point. It was only logical to assume we’d destroy it and cut ourselves off from the western bank completely. So they prepared. I told you, Your Majesty, Cassander is a dangerous opponent, an excellent tactician, and a brilliant strategist. It will be hard to outplay him, but you’ll have to rely on us."

  "I trust you, Geonar, and you too, Ringus… though you didn’t perform so well at the Battle of Nalvin…"

  "I’ve already explained, Your Majesty. The forces were far too unequal, and we weren’t prepared for such a fierce assault."

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  "Yes, yes, I understand. Look, they’ve almost crossed! The left bank is too steep for them, but the artillery is supporting the landing… Geonar, see to it that we try to attack them with ballistae and catapults from the walls. Delay them as much as possible!"

  "Yes, Your Majesty!"

  ***

  Boats slammed into the shore. The defenders hurled projectiles from behind fortifications, but the pirates scrambled upward with startling agility. Kairu peeked out from behind the rocks again and swung his sword blindly, as fear froze his limbs and drove him to duck back instantly. Bullets flew all around, and the fear wasn’t without reason. Kairu had already seen what happened to those caught in the blazing storm of lead.

  A dark figure flashed above him, leaping over the fortifications, waving a saber. Now Kairu was free. He didn’t even notice the gleam of the blade slicing through the air, he just leaned forward slightly and slashed at the legs. The blade tore through calf muscle and skin, hit bone, a carmine jet spurted into the snow, and the pirate dropped to his knees, howling and choking on his screams. The second blow took off his head. Around him, shadows spun in eddies of fine snow, steel clanged, and the snow grew darker, hissing as it was soaked with hot blood.

  A tall silhouette flashed by, hooves pounded, and an officer’s shout barely rose above the cannonade:

  "By the king’s order! Hold the river until dawn, then retreat to the city! Don’t scatter along the bank, stay close to the walls!"

  Boats drifted upstream, disappearing into the mist. The next wave of attackers was expected farther north. The gunfire still didn’t cease, not letting anyone even peek out. Kairu crawled a few feet to Zargel, who was fighting nearby.

  "Kairu! Are you okay?"

  "Still sound… mostly. Should we move?"

  "Probably. Things are heating up behind the bridge. Two more squads have been sent from the city to support us; the rest are firing from the walls and hitting pretty well from what I can see. Of course, stick your head out and they shoot you like a rabbit from the trees, but I don’t think anyone’s poking their nose out of the bushes now."

  "Many of ours dead?"

  "How would I know? I’m lying here like you. Anyone who runs by—I gut ‘em. And it goes quite well, only got nicked under the ribs, tore the chainmail, but it’s nothing. I saw a medic dragging Dalid to the city. Hope he’s okay."

  "Yeah," Kairu agreed. "Seems like they’re slowing down with shooting."

  "Really? Look!"

  Farther north, away from the shore, shadowy figures rushed toward them through the dark, waving swords. Arquebuses cracked, and the army of Aktida was caught between two fires—enemy bullets from the left held them down, while the landing force attacked from the front. The enemy commanders had chosen wisely: the bridge assault had been a diversion. The main force was already approaching from the north, where the pirates had landed near the forest and were now advancing, threatening to crush the Alvens in close combat. At range, the forces were equal. In melee, the pirates had the upper hand.

  "We have to help them!"

  "Are you crazy?" Zargel grabbed his shoulder. "You’ll get killed for sure!"

  Kairu didn’t reply. He shoved a pirate’s corpse aside and crawled forward. Ahead, Viggo’s massive silhouette flashed and his deep voice rang out, but Kairu couldn’t make out the words. Soldiers moved around him, someone was firing arrows, covering their allies. Kairu reached the bridge. To his right, a nurse was barely visible, dragging a wounded man. He thought he heard a familiar voice.

  The fortifications protected him, and fewer bullets reached here. He stood and ran, hunching over, gripping his sword with both hands. Nearby, Remiz was frantically swinging his katanas, fending off three pirates at once. Kairu ran up and struck from behind. It wasn’t honorable, but in battle, he wasn’t thinking of honor—only of survival. Sweat streamed down his back.

  The first pirate collapsed, the second one spun sharply and managed to hit. Kairu dodged, and the blow that should have cleaved him in two only grazed his cuirass and cut the skin of his elbow to the blood. He just hissed and struck diagonally, with all the strength and fury he had. The pirate was thrown into the snow before the ruby spray even hit the ground. Remiz handled the third one.

  Kairu paused just for a moment to catch his breath, and then he got shot.

  Everything went dark, and he barely even felt the pain. Something just slammed into his shoulder, and he crouched down, suddenly realizing his left arm was going numb. Maybe if he had a couple more seconds, he could have shaken off the shock, but the artillery worked fast and precisely. A cannonball landed right in the thick of it—it didn’t matter whether it hit friend or foe. Kairu only realized that several people nearby were being blown to pieces, and the shockwave tossed him into the air, slamming him into someone, probably one of the medics dragging the wounded.

  "Kairu? Oh, damn…"

  A familiar voice…

  Everything spun away, disappeared into a swirling chaos of light and shadow.

  ***

  The rider was galloping at full speed. Bullets whistled all around, but so far, luck was on his side. He heard a bridge collapse somewhere behind him, heard the creak of oars in rowlocks, and saw boats moving along the shore. The sheltering forest was already near, and he was certain he would make it.

  He did make it. He burst into the silence of the thicket, slowed the horse, and made his way through sharp, bare underbrush over the fresh, untouched snow. He caught his breath. The noise of battle was behind him now. All that was left was to get as far away as possible. His eyes were sticking shut from the cold.

  The horse neighed and suddenly jerked to the side. The courier cried out, barely managing to grab the bridle. He heard only a brief whistle. The first arrow thudded into a tree right where he had just been standing.

  He managed to calm the horse. He turned around, frightened. Something was moving toward him from the thicket. The courier reached for his sword.

  "Who are you?"

  "Leave the Forest, human!"

  He didn’t even have time to feel fear or pain. The second arrow, fired at point-blank range, pierced his forehead. His body swayed heavily and fell from the horse into a fresh snowdrift.

  ***

  The first thing Kairu saw as he opened his eyes was white light.

  Then came the return of touch and smell. He was lying on something soft, stripped to the waist, and apparently bandaged. It was warm. He smelled ether and alcohol. His left arm refused to move, but the right seemed more or less functional. The bandaged shoulder was numb. Finally, his memory returned. He realized he was no longer on the battlefield, and the clamor of war had been replaced by peace and quiet.

  "Better not move. It might hurt a little."

  "Rita?"

  She leaned over him. It felt unbelievably strange to see her so close. Her red hair blazed in the light of the white magical lamps like a blinding flame. She was smiling strangely as she looked at him, and he couldn’t resist—he reached out with his free right hand and touched her cheek. He wanted to make sure she wasn’t a ghost.

  "Are we in heaven?"

  "After the Mainor barracks and the battlefield, you can call this place heaven," she said sadly. "Actually, it’s a military hospital. Though some people think death would be better than life in this slowly dying city."

  "What happened? Did we win the battle?"

  "Not exactly. Ringus realized his mistake just in time. We managed to send reinforcements and met the enemy north of the city. That night, they failed to cross the Ilvion. They succeeded the next day, hit us with full force, and we retreated, locked the gates. I dragged you out that night, you fell beside me when I was hauling some other fellow to the hospital. At first, I thought the blast had killed you. But you only ended up with a hole in your shoulder and a broken collarbone."

  "How long have I been lying here?"

  "Today’s January fifteenth. Two weeks."

  "Two weeks?" Kairu gasped. "Wow."

  "Yeah, we found that wounds from those arquebuses take longer to heal than ones from ordinary arrows. Plus, it’s tough surviving under rationing and a blockade. You can’t count on doctors, they’re on the walls treating the marksmen. And if we keep trying to wipe out the pirates so fiercely, we’ll barely have enough ammunition to last till the end of the month."

  "So we’re under siege now?"

  "Of course. Cassander won’t give up that easily. You haven’t seen what’s going on outside the walls: they pulled back to a safe distance, digging trenches and building fortifications. We live under constant aim, anyone who sticks their head out gets shot. Their cannons haven’t helped much yet. Mainor isn’t Nalvin—you can’t just break through these walls. A few times at night they tried to use a battering ram, but we pelted them with whatever we could find, used up a ton of arrows, and they ran off, abandoning their log. Now there are piles of corpses under the gates and along the shores, vultures and crows circle in clouds. The stench is awful, and there’s no one to bury the dead. We don’t open the gates at all, and they’re afraid to come within firing range. We saw a group of warriors arrive from the north along the right bank, apparently coming to help us, but they stayed briefly and left. Another came from the east, over the bridge, but the pirates didn’t miss their chance. First they offered to open the gates in exchange for hostages, then realized it wouldn’t work, and killed every single one of them. Fifty men. They’ve also tried storming the walls, bringing up towers and ladders. Nothing worked. Now they’re just sitting there, freezing and furious. They rotate their marksmen every two hours, but we’re not dozing either—one wrong move and we fire a volley right away."

  Kairu was silent.

  "It’s really cold out there," said Rita. "And by the way, no one’s seen Cassander himself. Seems like he’s holed up in his tent, keeping warm."

  "And you? How did you end up in the hospital?"

  "I needed a safe shelter. Petros gave me a note for any expenses, but staying in my mother’s house is too dangerous right now, same with the taverns. So I decided to become a nurse. Otherwise, they might have evacuated me. But… it’s tough, honestly, since I have to combine caring for the wounded with other tasks."

  "You didn’t come to Mainor to fight," Kairu remarked.

  "Indeed, one could easily conclude that," Rita said mockingly. "Not to fight. But when I left you in Nalvin, I had another goal. That’s changed against my will, and to my own surprise, I’ve found myself continuing Petros’s work. I’m—how to put it?—drawn back into this story again."

  "Strangely enough, so am I. Have you spoken to Viggo and Remiz yet?"

  "Of course. They dropped in during a break, ran into me, and told me everything. About how you and Petros found the crossroads of time. About the battle for Nalvin and your defeat. About how you… stood out, engaging in battle with Cassander himself and nearly killing him."

  "Viggo said that? Believe me, he exaggerates. In truth, I was just devilishly lucky he didn’t kill me in the first second. And… your training came in handy."

  Rita blushed.

  "You’re flattering me… And then Viggo told me how you found Woody Miles, that he was a thief from Mainor. That’s when I realized Woody was a treasure. Naturally, I spoke to him. I’ve been thinking a lot, and I’ve come to the conclusion that now that we’ve become a team again, we have to act together."

  "Tell me what you’ve gotten into," Kairu muttered, "and what Woody has to do with it."

  "Me? Nothing yet. I came to Mainor to find out how and why my mother died. In Nalvin, Petros gave me reason to believe I had a suspect. Now I’m putting the pieces together and drawing conclusions."

  "What did Petros tell you?"

  Rita fell silent, recalling that evening in Nalvin—the day just before the battle.