The King's Bastard - By Rowena Cory Daniells Page 0,149

and the great beasts strained to be let loose. Silly things. They were outmatched. Together they could bring down one manticore perhaps, but not a pride.

She didn't catch sight of the god-touched beasts as they made their way to the palisade. Orrade and Florin dug a trench across the ruined gateway and filled it with pitch. When Florin touched her torch to the pitch, the trench filled with flames and Leif cheered. Piro was heartened, but suspected that celebrating would be premature.

'Right, you two come with me,' Florin ordered Piro and Leif. 'Orrade and Garzik go that way. Then spread out and make as much noise as possible.'

They ran down the length of the palisade, about a body length from the wood, spilling pitch and lighting it as they went. At this point, it was only a bow shot across Narrowneck. Soon the palisade's length was a line of leaping flames.

'Now that they can't get out, we'll drive them before us,' Florin urged. She began shouting, making the dogs bark madly. Piro and Leif took their cooking pots and banged them together, shouting for all they were worth. Every so often, Florin tossed a pitch-dipped flaming torch to each side, lighting up the night.

Piro could hear Orrade and Garzik, just make them out through the trunks. At its widest, Narrowneck was only two bow shots across, growing more slender until it came to the tradepost which was built just up from the cliffs that led down to the beach. Narrowneck tradepost even boasted a weighted lever that could lift the heaviest load up from the beach and lower it down again.

The shouting and the leaping flames made Piro feel safer. She only hoped Byren was as safe and that his plan worked.

Byren set off alone, heading for the platform above the cliffs to the beach. The platform was designed well, with rails and a gate the fed onto the extendible ladder. This could be raised quickly. From here, defenders could shoot down on the beach. But the platform was not defensible from the inside. When the builders had planned the tradepost they had not foreseen the need to defend the gate from this direction.

The excited barking of the hounds, then shouts and clanking told him the others had begun their part. Cutting off the manticores' last avenue of escape was his responsibility. He poured a trail of pitch in an arc around the platform which stood head high, set fire to the pitch and climbed onto the platform.

After stringing the borrowed bow, which was a little short and too light for him, he strode to the far side of the platform, avoiding the frame with its heavy weight and glanced down onto the snow-covered beach four body lengths below. It was empty of tracks. Good. None of the manticores had escaped. If all went well several would topple over the cliffs and die. The wolfhounds might account for one or two of the juveniles and, if any attacked his companions, they had their bows.

He turned to face Narrowneck and the tree line, paced to the edge of the platform and closed his eyes to adjust them to the night before opening them. Then he focused on the ground about a body length below the platform on the inland side. He had a good view of the approach to the only way off Narrowneck.

The baying of the wolfhounds changed pitch and he knew they had been let loose. They would flush out any manticores that tried to take shelter in the outbuildings.

The hunting horn sounded, high and piercing. Florin and Orrade each carried one. It meant that one of them had killed a manticore. He spotted a dark shadow with the distinctive manticore tail that curled forwards over its body, slinking through the tree trunks. He raised his bow, taking his time with the shot because he wanted to sever the spine behind the neck. The angle was good.

Thung. He let the bowstring go.

The great cat screamed, legs collapsing. It wasn't dead, but crippled like that, the wolfhounds could finish it.

Another hunting horn sounded. That accounted for three of the manticores. He hoped it was the adults. The dogs could handle the juveniles, if they got them cornered one at a time.

This was going to work.

Byren turned to survey his field, reaching for another arrow.

A manticore confronted him. It was the male, with a mane dark as old blood. While he was looking the other way, it had crept close, body