He must have dozed, for the next he knew, a soldier was shaking his shoulder, exhorting him to wake. Keyoke blinked gummed eyelids and fought to clear senses that normally came instantly alert. Without thought he attempted to rise, but pain seared the length of his leg and caused him an audible gasp for air. The soldier offered a steadying hand and tried to keep pity from his eyes. 'Force Commander, we hear armed men approaching in the hills above the canyon!'
Keyoke squinted at the narrow crack of sky above the cliff walls. There were no stars, nor any lessening of darkness to indicate the hour. He had no way to estimate how much time had passed. 'How long until dawn?' he asked.
The soldier frowned. 'Perhaps two hours, Force Commander.'
'Bank the fire,' Keyoke snapped. Sure that the enemy had by now encircled the mountains and flanked his position, h~
hobbled over to the men who readied themselves for the next assault. A frown marred his forehead. 'If Irrilandi has sent troops to crush us from the hills, why attack in the"+
darkness ?' he said softly, unaware, through his fever and his.
pain, that he did his musing aloud.
Then a crack resounded across the clearing. The barricade exploded backward under a wave of orange-and.
black-armoured bodies, and Acoma defenders were hurled in all directions. A heavy log burst through with a grind of stones and a tearing of stinking needra flesh. The canyon: had been breached by a ram, run by the short defile under cover of darkness, and wielded with devastating effect.
Minwanabi soldiers rushed screaming into the canyon while the Acoma sprang to engage them. Keyoke called to the servants to take cover behind the bulwark of silks.
Soldiers fell thrashing in death throes or groaning in mortal pain. The fighting spread into the breached canyon. Bodies draped twitching and crushed between the stones and large branches of the shifted barricade; others writhed, impaled; Some few fumbled to lift swords while they lay with broken legs and backs.
Keyoke absorbed this without pause to register the horror, for Minwanabi soldiers poured through the gap.
The defile might only admit one or two men at a time, but it was open, and the Acoma were in retreat.
Keyoke drew his sword. His helm was off, abandoned on the ground where he had slept. He rejected the idea of searching for it, not trusting his balky leg enough to attempt unnecessary steps. Only the will of the gods might determine whether he should die proudly as Acoma Force Commander or as just another nameless old soldier. With Mara left threatened, in the end, he judged, it mattered little.
'Burn the silk,' he called to a servant, who hovered awaiting orders by his elbow. The man bowed swiftly and left, and in the soft, untrustworthy light of blossoming torches, as loyal hands threw flaming brands upon piled silk, Keyoke hurried forward in a stumbling half-hop. Through a spinning haze of fever he was aware of the screams of dying soldiers and the clash of arms punctuated by the crackle of silk and dry wood exploding at his back in a leaping wash of fire. A Minwanabi soldier spun backwards, stumbling from the blow of an Acoma warrior. Keyoke dispatched him with a reflexive slash, and a grim smile stretched his lips across his teeth. His leg might be ruined, but by Turakamu, his sword arm still functioned. He would see the Minwanabi as his escorts into the halls of the Red God.
The battle raged across the narrow draw, hemmed between rock walls and a blazing barrier of silk. Men struggled in a dance with death, their swords shining red in the night. Fighting, stumbling ahead, Keyoke squinted against the glare and tried to sort friend from foe. The warriors of both sides looked like nothing so much as a scene from some demented battle hell as the fire burned in brilliant fury.
Beset by another Minwanabi, Keyoke ducked a sword thrust and countered with a single chop to the throat. The warrior fell, gurgling, and precious seconds were lost because Keyoke could not raise his injured leg high enough to step over the man's death throes. The Acoma Force Commander's knee trembled as he limped around, and pain jabbed him from ankle to thigh each time the limb bore weight. The agony knotted his belly, and he swallowed to keep from voiding his stomach. Dizziness teased at his balance, and his vision swam.