“Alain!” She looked surprised to see him. With practiced movements she took off her sorcerer’s garb and wrapped them up with staff and mirror into a leather skin, not neglecting certain charms and a prayer as if to seal in their magical power.
Slinging the bundle over her back, she began walking back to the village. He fell in beside her, finding room on the path as the hounds ambled along behind. His staff measured out the ground as they walked. The moon marked their way straight and bright.
They passed through a narrow belt of forest and emerged west of the village. The moon’s light made silver of the river. Beyond the village rose the tumulus. Nearer, the sentry’s watch fire burned red by the village gates. Closer still lay the birthing house, and from within its confines he heard a baby cry fretfully. A nightingale sang, and ceased. The thin glow heralding dawn rimmed the eastern sky as the moon sank toward the horizon in the west. Birds woke, trilling, and a flock of ducks settled in a rush in the shallows of the river. In the distance, a wolf howled.
Adica took his hand. She leaned into him, and kissed him. Her lips were sweet and moist. Where her body pressed against his, his own body woke hungrily. His hand tangled in the strings of her skirt, and beneath the wool cording he touched her skin.
A small voice woke in the back of his head. Hadn’t he made vows? Hadn’t he promised celibacy to Tallia, to honor God? Oughtn’t he to remember his foster father’s promise that he would cleave to the church and its strictures?
He let the oak staff fall to the ground as he tightened his arms around Adica. Her warmth and eagerness enveloped him. He’d given all that away when he had come into this country. Now he could do as he pleased, and what he pleased right now was to embrace this woman who desired him.
Once, perhaps, in those long ago days when he had been joined to Stronghand in his dreams, Alain would have heard the shouting first. Now, because he was lost in the urgency of her embrace, the blat of a horn startled him so badly he jumped. Sorrow and Rage began barking. Adica pulled away and threw back her head to listen.
The sun hadn’t yet risen, but light glinted at the height of the tumulus, lying to the east. Distant thunder rolled and faded.
She exclaimed out loud, words he could not understand. As she bent to grab her leather bundle off the ground, an arrow passed over her back, right where she had just been standing up straight. He dove and knocked her down. A flight of arrows whistled harmlessly past, pale shafts skittering to a halt on the ground beyond.
Figures sprang out of the forest. The horn sounded again, and a third time, shrill and urgent.
The masked attackers who rushed out of the forest swarmed toward the birthing house, where Weiwara sheltered with her infant twins. Adica was already up, staff in hand, leaving her bundle behind. Sorrow and Rage bolted forward in her wake, and Alain, fumbling, got hold of his staff and raced after her.
But no matter how fast they ran, the bandits got to the birthing house first even as he heard Adica scream out Weiwara’s name. Too late.
Weiwara shouted from the house. There came a shriek of anger, followed by the solid thunk of a heavy weight hitting wood. Two figures darted from the house, each carrying a small bundle. Adica got near enough to strike at one with her staff, hitting him forcefully enough at the knees so he stumbled. The other raced on, back to the forest, as the first turned and, with the child tucked under one arm, thrust out his sword. Dawn made fire of the metal as he cut. Adica danced aside. The rising light played over the man’s face, since he, unlike the other two, wasn’t masked. Nor was he human: he had a dark complexion, with black hair and striking features that reminded Alain of Prince Sanglant.
Another Aoi warrior emerged from the birthing hut, this one a young woman clad, like the others, in a bronze breastplate fitted over a short tunic. The feathers woven into her hair gave her a startling crest, and her mask had been carved into a peregrine’s hooked beak. She carried a small round shield and a short spear.
Alain struck with his staff. She barely had time to parry. Her companion, hampered by the infant, contented himself with thrusting again, but Adica’s reflexes were too good. She sprang back and swung her staff hard around, aiming for the woman instead of the man, and caught the Aoi warrior a glancing blow to the jaw. Blood dribbled out from the young warrior’s neck as she bit back a yelp of pain. Alain circled right to close the two against the wall of the birthing house. He heard shouts from behind, Kel’s voice, and suddenly Kel and his brother came running with their spears ready.
The Aoi man dropped the infant and bolted for the trees, following his companion; Alain clipped the woman as she tried to follow, and she fell heavily. Adica stepped back Kel and Tosti shrieked with glee as the Aoi woman rolled over, lifting her shield to protect herself.
