Why would Lev do such a thing? A mage could not be ruler of any land. Did he simply want to start a war with the Mori? Was that the reason her dear Wolf had lost his life? Was that all? She cursed Lev and vowed vengeance. But some other time, when Olga was safely away from here.
Just before night fall there was a sudden outcry from the hall below and a clash of arms. One of the women came bursting into the room.
“Madam! There’s fighting!”
Jindabyne grabbed Olga’s hand and the bundle she had made for her.
“Where is Lord Serge?” she cried to the woman.
“Here! Let me in!” shouted a voice in the corridor. Jindabyne flung the door open and Serge came charging through, sword drawn and bloody, his two Seagani friends, Alain and Luc, at his heels.
“Quickly, they’re right behind me!” he shouted.
Jindabyne slammed the door shut, bolted it and locked it with magic.
“My Uncle accused me of calling up the Mori to murder my father and many of the others supported him,” Serge shouted. “We have to escape.”
Jindabyne ran to the window and flung open the shutters. Outside the setting sun was casting blood red streaks across a sky heavy with cloud.
“You men there! Get up here. I will fly you down,” she cried.
Nervously Serge’s companions climbed onto the window sill and using her magic Jindabyne pushed them one by one out of the window and made them glide diagonally through the air so that they just cleared the curtain wall beyond the fortress yard and landed on the other side of the moat beyond. She waited till she felt the pressure of each body touch the ground before she reached for the next man.
Fists were pounding on the door of the women’s quarters. Jindabyne’s serving women huddled together in a corner. She thrust her bundle into Serge’s arms and pushed him up onto the window sill.
“Come on Bebeth!” she shouted, as she climbed up beside him.
“No madam,” cried Bebeth, passing Olga into her arms. “You go! I will be safe enough here.”
There was no time to argue.
From the window sill the drop to the yard of the fortress beneath was dizzying. Men carrying torches were running around in the courtyard below. She could hear shouting and the clash of metal.
“Do not be afraid, my heart,” she told Olga. “We are going to fly now. Hold tight!”
She flung herself out of the window, pulling Serge with her. Down they glided, first too fast, now too slow. She worried that the weight of all three of them might make her hit the curtain wall. The men below began shouting. Had they noticed them? She was almost at the wall.
Suddenly something caught her, jerking her back as she was being dragged by a net. She fell backwards on the top of the curtain wall with a thud, Serge and Olga sprawled on top of her, Olga kicking her painfully in the ribs.
She felt the hiss of power and a figure loomed over them.
“Where do you go with such guilty speed, sister-in-law?” cried Lev Madraga loudly.
Jindabyne had never pitted her power against Lev. She knew he was extremely powerful for a Mirayan mage and that she herself was just a faint shadow of what a Tari mage could be but at this moment, it didn’t matter.
“Olga! Serge! Run!” she shouted, pushing them off her and trying to roll to her feet, her legs caught up in her dress.
Without waiting to stand, she threw a desperate bolt of power at Lev. He threw it off with a flick of his hand. It crashed into the battlement wall with boom and a shatter of stone fragments. Staggering to her feet, she threw another power bolt. As she did, she saw Serge lift his sword and run at Lev.
“No!” she shouted.
Lev flicked his hands again, deflecting power bolt she had aimed at him towards Serge. Using magic Jindabyne deflected the bolt away from Serge before it could smash him against the battlement wall. A shatter of stone rained over them as the bolt hit the wall without Serge.
She threw up a shield of defence just in time to stop a shattering blow from Lev.
Sweet life! He was so strong!
In the shadowy light from flickering torches, Olga huddled like a small bundle against the wall. Was she hurt? Jindabyne moved back to shield her better, fending off several blows from Lev. At last she could put her hand on Olga’s head and the child jumped up and put her arms around Jindabyne’s waist, whimpering.
Hot red ferocity filled Jindabyne’s mind. She would kill this bastard before she let him harm her baby. Teeth clenched, she began throwing bolts of power at him.
Blast! Blast! Blast! The speed of her attack disconcerted Lev, but he managed to speed up his own. Back and forth the magical blows went, each one showering stone fragments everywhere as they hit the battlement walls. Each one of Lev’s blasts shook Jindabyne’s defences and she could not see that her attacks were having any effect on him.
Suddenly something flew past them and thudded into Lev. He fell backwards, eyes widening in shock as he saw the arrow sticking out of his chest. Beside her Serge lowered his bow. All around him were Madraga troops, standing with weapons raised or hanging limply in their hands, obviously confused, under orders to attack Serge, but unable to bring themselves to do so.
“Men! I am your true Duke!” shouted Serge. “You knew my father! You know me! Lev Madraga is the only murderer here!”
But even as he spoke, more armed men began pouring out of the guard tower further along the wall. Appius’ mercenaries. They would have no scruples about attacking Serge. Jindabyne could see mages among the soldiers their robes flapping as they ran to get into range. The guards surrounding them began skittering along the wall toward the other guard tower.
“Quickly! Go! Save Olga!” cried Serge to Jindabyne, as he ran after the fleeing guards.
Clutching Olga to her chest, Jindabyne launched herself off the wall, glided over the moat and the roofs of the closest houses of the town beyond and landed in a small street. The mages on the wall threw a few blasts of magic after her, but they fell far short and once she had landed, she was out of sight and range.
Down here, the town was in an uproar, the streets full of townsfolk alarmed by the magical blasts and sounds of fighting coming from the fortress. Jindabyne managed to land in a small street and few people noticed her. Still carrying a trembling Olga in her arms, she was hurrying towards the cathedral when a woman pushed past her screaming, “My house! Help me!” and Jindabyne, staggering under her impact, glanced backwards. The houses nearest the fortress were burning.
Those stupid mages! Their magical blasts must have set the wooden town on fire.
Jindabyne hesitated. More than anything she wanted to get Olga to safety and the church would be the best place for that. This was not woman’s work. Surely the townsfolk were organised to deal with fire and surely they could manage it. Wolf had.... The thought of Wolf made her stop. This was his town. Another roof burst into flame.
“Hold on tight, sweet,” she whispered to Olga and hoisting her further up onto her hip, she hurried back towards the fire.
The burning buildings did not take long to put out. It was just a matter of rebalancing the hungry element of fire by calling forth the element of water from a sky that was already close to rain. She simply made it do so earlier and all in one spot. As the rain quenched the burning houses, the townsfolk recognised her and gathered round, desperate for news. Anger filled her as well as a kind of triumph at using her magic. She found herself, all shyness gone shouting at them.
“Lev Madraga and Guilius Appius are trying to overthrow Lord Serge. Quickly! Go aid him! Spread the word!”
Most of the townsfolk were Seagani and hated Lev Madraga. People began to seize