to her. "You were right last night," he said. "I was
wrong." Then he headed out across the courtyard, steps steady despite his wounded leg.
Bernard whistled and said to Amara, "That cost him something, I think."
"Nothing he couldn't do without anyway," Amara said, her voice dry. "Bernard, those Knights are still out there, and they're going to be coming in on us again."
"I know," Bernard said. "But we don't have enough Knights Aeris to hold the sky. We don't know when or where they'll come."
Amara nodded to him. "But I think I have a good guess. Here's what I want you to do."
She laid out brief instructions for him, and he nodded, gathered up some more of the holders with him, and hurried off to carry out her plan. Amara checked in with Harger and then headed up onto the wall. The battlements were crowded with men, but she located Giraldi, standing soberly in position at the center of the wall, over the gate.
"Centurion," she greeted him.
"Countess."
"How does it look?"
He nodded out toward the oncoming Marat, hardly more than a mile away now. "They've stopped," he told her. "Out past our best bow range, even for these holder boys. They're waiting."
"For what?"
He shrugged. "Sunrise maybe. If they give it a few minutes, the sun will be in our eyes when it comes up."
"Will it hurt us much?"
He shrugged. "It won't help."
She nodded. "How long can we expect to hold them?"
"No telling with these things. If we can keep them off the walls, out of the gates, a good long while."
"Long enough to give a group of wagons a running start?"
He glanced at her. "The holders' wagons?"
Amara nodded. "We're loading them with the women and children right now."
Giraldi looked at her steadily for a moment, then nodded. "All right then. We'll hold them long enough. Excuse me." He turned and stepped back from the battlements to meet a panting legionare who had made his
way down the wall. Amara followed him. Giraldi frowned and asked, "Where are those canteens, man?"
The legionare saluted. "Sorry, sir. They're in the east warehouse, and it's already been secured."
"Already been secured," Giraldi growled. "How do you know?"
"Door was locked."
Giraldi frowned at the man. "Well, find Harger and get him to-what's that on your shoes?"
"Hay, sir."
"Where did you get hay in your boots, legionare?"
"One of the holders threw it there, sir. They're tossing it all over the courtyard."
"What?"
Amara stepped in. "My orders, Centurion."
"Uh," Giraldi said. He swept off his helmet and rubbed at his short-cropped hair. "With all due respect, Your Ladyship, what kind of idiot order is that? If you put hay all over the courtyard, it'll make the prettiest fire you ever saw, and among our own, to boot. For all we know they're going to be shooting flame arrows over the wall."
"It's a calculated risk, Centurion, that I cannot explain here."
"Lady," Giraldi began to protest.
From down the wall, someone shouted, "Sir!"
Amara and Giraldi both turned to look down the wall.
A pale-faced young legionare jerked his chin out toward the plains beyond the fortress. "Here they come."
Chapter 40
Amara rushed back to the battlements with Giraldi beside her and watched as the Marat horde, beneath the droning yawls of huge, hollowed animal horns, began a determined advance, moving forward at a steady trot, with wolves and herdbane loping along beside them.
"Crows," whispered one of the legionares beside Amara She saw the man reach for his spear, fumble it, and drop it She flinched, hand flashing out and batting the falling weapon away from her
Giraldi caught it in one scar-knuckled hand "Steady," he growled, eyes on Amara He passed the spear back to the legionare "Steady, lads "
The horde grew closer The sounds of thousands of feet hitting the ground as they ran rose like far off thunder
"Steady," Giraldi said He looked up and down the line and barked, "Archers' Shields'"
The legionares stepped up to the battlements In each crenellation stood a man with one of the huge Legion wall shields Behind each, another legionare, armed with a bow and a thick war-quiver of arrows, strung his bow and took position Most of the archers were holders from the Valley
The Marat grew closer, the eerie droning of their horns growing louder, more unnerving A restless shuffle went down the line of shieldmen
"Steady," Giraldi commanded He glanced at the young holder in borrowed armor beside him "You sure you lads can shoot that far'"
The holder peeked around the edge of the shield of the burly legionare in front of him