Her mother’s mouth fell open. ‘What?’
Blake went inside and fetched her knife and Kingsley’s bow. Her mother and Lyndal followed her from room to room.
‘What exactly is your plan?’ Lyndal asked, picking up Garlic before the duck could run out the front door.
‘The defenders will fight out in the open,’ Blake said. ‘If we hide in the trees, we can pick off the strays that slip past them.’
‘Have you lost your mind?’ Candace said. ‘They will shoot you from the trees.’
‘They’ll assume the arrows are coming from atop the wall.’ Blake stepped outside. ‘Lock the door behind me.’
‘You said sea warriors don’t care about locks,’ Lyndal yelled, crossing her arms.
She had said that.
When Blake did not reply, Lyndal added, ‘If you return here with an arrow through your eye, don’t expect me to help you.’
Blake rolled her eyes. ‘Love you too.’
Eda was waiting in the middle of the road, her bow already loaded.
‘Don’t look so pleased with yourself,’ Blake said, reaching back for an arrow. ‘We still have to return alive.’ She looked up at the frenzy of seagulls overhead. The port must have been a war zone if the birds were braving the merchant borough. It was such a rare occurrence she actually thought about shooting one from the sky to collect on the way home for dinner, but the fighting up ahead drew her attention. A small group of defenders was trying to contain the influx of warriors forcing their way into the borough.
The women slowed, watching the combat for a moment. What sea warriors lacked in discipline, they made up for in strength and brutality. Her father had once described them as efficient fighters. She had not really understood what that meant until now.
Blake lifted her bow and took aim at the closest warrior, hitting him between the ribs. It was not enough to kill him but enough to enable the defender fighting him to finish the job.
‘Behind the shops,’ Blake said, gesturing towards the shadows. ‘We can reach the trees from there without being seen.’
As they walked, they heard the gate that separated the royal borough from the port going up. Reinforcements had arrived. There were shouts as defenders spilled out onto the beach.
The girls stopped at the edge of the shadows, watching as the defenders struggled to maintain the line along the gap in the wall.
The sound of a horse approaching made the girls shrink back. It was Harlan’s father.
‘Hold that line,’ the warden shouted. ‘Reinforcements are on their way.’
When a warrior broke through, Shapur rode forwards to deal with the man himself, slicing his throat open.
‘Warden!’ came a voice from the other side of the line.
Shapur swung his horse around to look. ‘Let him through! He’s one of ours!’
Another warrior burst through the line, axe swinging at one defender and a shield at another. Blake took aim and released, hitting him through the neck. Defenders ascended on the man like wolves. The warden glanced in Blake’s direction, then turned his attention back to the dripping man standing in front of him.
‘What is it?’ Shapur asked.
The sand-covered defender stood to attention, trying to catch his breath. ‘Commander Wright’s still in the water.’
‘What?’ Shapur looked past him to the port.
‘Training drill, sir. He was shot trying to come ashore. He told me to deliver the message that there are boats along the east wall. We have more men out there as well.’
‘Alive?’
‘They were when we parted ways. There are six boats burning offshore, but more arrived.’
Blake’s lungs froze in place.
