and joining the Tyrant's bodyguard. The Guildsmen became nervous. News of the proposed breakout was spreading. The enemy would hear before long.
Hawkwind reviewed his troops during the delay. He was a small, slim man in his fifties. He looked like a harmless shopkeeper, not the most devastating captain of the age. Till one looked him in the eye.
Bragi saw raw power in the man. Raw power and pure will. Only death Herself could best a man like General Sir Tury Hawkwind.
Hawkwind completed the review, then informed the Tyrant he would wait no longer. The gates opened. Ragnarson was surprised how quietly they moved.
A moment later he was double-timing into jeopardy. Enemy watchfires formed constellations on the hills and plains. He clutched his weapons and kit to keep them from clattering, and tried not to be afraid.
But he was scared. Badly scared. Again. After all he had survived, he felt his capacity for fear should have been blunted.
They started north on the road that had brought Sanguinet's Company south. They would leave it later and follow another to the coast.
First contact came quickly. Nassef's men were alert.
But they were not ready for a sally in force. The Guildsmen cut through easily.
Bragi suddenly understood why Hawkwind had chosen to flee at midnight. Darkness negated the enemy's speed and maneuverability. Only suicides galloped around when they couldn't see.
Nevertheless, Nassef's men kept getting in the way. And when they slowed the column, their brethern overtook it from behind.
The fighting seldom reached Bragi's company. He and Haaken occupied themselves carrying a Guildsman who had fallen and nearly been left behind. They did not talk much.
An hour fled. Miles passed. Another hour trudged into the warehouse of time. Hawkwind kept moving. The enemy could not place a preponderance of strength into his path.
Hours and miles. The sky began lightening.
"I hear the breakers," Haaken gasped. Their burden had become agonizingly heavy.
Bragi snorted. "Even if we were close, you couldn't hear the surf over the noise we're making."
But Haaken was right. They tramped through an olive grove and there lay the sea. A galaxy of lanterns sparkled on the water as ships signalled their whereabouts.
"The ships," Haaken muttered to himself. "I see the ships."
The run ended ten minutes later. The secundus and tercio started digging in. Longboats began carrying Councilors to the vessels.
It was a big fleet. Some of the ships had escaped Simballawein. Some, Hellin Daimiel had sent against this contingency. The Daimiellians wanted to salvage Guildsmen who might stiffen their own defenses.
El Murid's men attacked, but without verve or organization. These were not fanatics, they were plunderers. They saw no profit in trying to obliterate a beaten foe. The Guildsmen repulsed them easily.
Bragi's company was one of the last into the boats.
He was digging an arrowhead from Reskird's shoulder when Sanguinet said, "You boys might have the stuff after all."
Bragi was startled. He had not noticed the captain getting aboard.
"Sir?"
"I saw you pick up a man and carry him to the beach."
"He was one of ours."
"You'll make it, Ragnarson. So will your brother. The man was dead the last three miles."
"What? I never noticed."
"What's wrong with your sidekick there? He don't stay this quiet when he's asleep."
"I told him to shut up. He was getting on my nerves."
"Oh? Maybe he'll make a Guildsman too."
"Maybe. You can talk now, Reskird. You made your point."
But Kildragon refused. He was sulking.
The fleet made Hellin Daimiel three days later.
Nassef's horde had raced them northward. The roads out of the city had been cut. A noose was tightening fast. In a few days the sea would be the city's only means of communication.
Hellin Daimiel was not Simballawein. Nassef's confederates were caught and hung before they did any harm.
Bragi's company spent six weeks there, remaining till Hawkwind and the ruling council were
Hawkwind reviewed his troops during the delay. He was a small, slim man in his fifties. He looked like a harmless shopkeeper, not the most devastating captain of the age. Till one looked him in the eye.
Bragi saw raw power in the man. Raw power and pure will. Only death Herself could best a man like General Sir Tury Hawkwind.
Hawkwind completed the review, then informed the Tyrant he would wait no longer. The gates opened. Ragnarson was surprised how quietly they moved.
A moment later he was double-timing into jeopardy. Enemy watchfires formed constellations on the hills and plains. He clutched his weapons and kit to keep them from clattering, and tried not to be afraid.
But he was scared. Badly scared. Again. After all he had survived, he felt his capacity for fear should have been blunted.
They started north on the road that had brought Sanguinet's Company south. They would leave it later and follow another to the coast.
First contact came quickly. Nassef's men were alert.
But they were not ready for a sally in force. The Guildsmen cut through easily.
Bragi suddenly understood why Hawkwind had chosen to flee at midnight. Darkness negated the enemy's speed and maneuverability. Only suicides galloped around when they couldn't see.
Nevertheless, Nassef's men kept getting in the way. And when they slowed the column, their brethern overtook it from behind.
The fighting seldom reached Bragi's company. He and Haaken occupied themselves carrying a Guildsman who had fallen and nearly been left behind. They did not talk much.
An hour fled. Miles passed. Another hour trudged into the warehouse of time. Hawkwind kept moving. The enemy could not place a preponderance of strength into his path.
Hours and miles. The sky began lightening.
"I hear the breakers," Haaken gasped. Their burden had become agonizingly heavy.
Bragi snorted. "Even if we were close, you couldn't hear the surf over the noise we're making."
But Haaken was right. They tramped through an olive grove and there lay the sea. A galaxy of lanterns sparkled on the water as ships signalled their whereabouts.
"The ships," Haaken muttered to himself. "I see the ships."
The run ended ten minutes later. The secundus and tercio started digging in. Longboats began carrying Councilors to the vessels.
It was a big fleet. Some of the ships had escaped Simballawein. Some, Hellin Daimiel had sent against this contingency. The Daimiellians wanted to salvage Guildsmen who might stiffen their own defenses.
El Murid's men attacked, but without verve or organization. These were not fanatics, they were plunderers. They saw no profit in trying to obliterate a beaten foe. The Guildsmen repulsed them easily.
Bragi's company was one of the last into the boats.
He was digging an arrowhead from Reskird's shoulder when Sanguinet said, "You boys might have the stuff after all."
Bragi was startled. He had not noticed the captain getting aboard.
"Sir?"
"I saw you pick up a man and carry him to the beach."
"He was one of ours."
"You'll make it, Ragnarson. So will your brother. The man was dead the last three miles."
"What? I never noticed."
"What's wrong with your sidekick there? He don't stay this quiet when he's asleep."
"I told him to shut up. He was getting on my nerves."
"Oh? Maybe he'll make a Guildsman too."
"Maybe. You can talk now, Reskird. You made your point."
But Kildragon refused. He was sulking.
The fleet made Hellin Daimiel three days later.
Nassef's horde had raced them northward. The roads out of the city had been cut. A noose was tightening fast. In a few days the sea would be the city's only means of communication.
Hellin Daimiel was not Simballawein. Nassef's confederates were caught and hung before they did any harm.
Bragi's company spent six weeks there, remaining till Hawkwind and the ruling council were
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