Injured?
Harlan could not be injured. He was… impenetrable.
Shapur turned to the defender standing next to his horse. ‘Send more archers to the east wall and tell them to look out for defenders.’
Another warrior broke through the line and charged towards the horse. Eda took aim and shot him. Shapur looked in their direction again.
‘Show yourself,’ he shouted.
Blake gestured for Eda to remain where she was, then drew a breath before stepping into view.
Shapur walked his horse towards her, stopping ten feet away. ‘Merchants should be inside. What are you doing out here?’
She gave the only answer she could think of. ‘Helping, sir.’
His eyes fell to her bow. ‘You want to help?’
She nodded.
‘Then go home and lock your door as instructed.’ He turned his horse, swinging his bloodied sword as he trotted away.
Blake returned to Eda and slumped against the wall. Her chest was heavy and her mind racing. She looked over as more defenders arrived, forming a line behind the fighting men as they prepared to enter the port.
Blake pushed off the wall.
Don’t go, Eda signed, reading her.
‘I need you to stay here,’ Blake said. ‘Do you understand? I can’t be worried about you.’
Eda shook her head.
‘He’s in the water, injured.’
He’s likely dead already,Eda signed, her eyebrows drawn together in a hard line.
Blake blinked away the image. That was not a thought she would entertain. Harlan had given of himself far more than a man in his position should. And all she had given him in return were headaches.
Of course she had to find him. ‘I’m sorry.’
Eda sighed and looked away. Then she reached behind her and pulled a handful of arrows from her quiver, handing them to Blake.Don’t fight, she signed.Run. No one can catch you when you run.
Blake brought her forehead to her sister’s, eyes closing for a second. ‘Thank you.’
I’ll make sure you get to the wall. After that, you’re on your own.
Blake kissed her sister’s head and turned away before she could change her mind. She checked her knife, stretched out her neck, and loaded her bow.
Eda adjusted her feet, raised her bow, then nodded to signal she was ready.
Drawing a breath, Blake took off at a sprint, mapping out a path as she neared the wall. As the new arrivals marched through the gaps created for them, she slipped seamlessly into the steady stream of men, ignoring the shouts that followed her.
‘Merchants are to remain inside!’ Shapur shouted.
Blake looked back at him and saw his eyes narrowed at her. She faced forwards again, heart pounding as she was carried into the port.
The men dispersed and joined in the fighting, and Blake’s feet froze. She took in the sight before her. Blood and chaos. That was all she could see. Men fighting, men screaming on the ground. Men with missing arms and faces painted with blood. The noise shook the ground beneath her. And the smell. Metallic and overpowering, filling her nose and throat. Her stomach lurched involuntarily. She had seen death up close before, but not like this.
Her eyes went to the taverns, where women were being dragged outside, screaming, and thrown to the ground. That was the moment she realised she was in as much danger as any defender around her.
