Darkspell. Katharine Kerr

rear. They trotted across new-burnt fields, the black stubble mute witness to the raids, then forded a stream and climbed up a low hill. From the top Ricyn could see the gray broch tower within its earthworks, and the siege camp spreading out across a meadow. Screaming a war cry, Dannyn drew his sword and led his army down at a breakneck gallop as the enemy camp suddenly came alive with shouting. The reserve trotted decorously after.

      Below, the camp turned into a swirl of dust and clamor, men shouting, running for horses, fighting desperately on foot as Dannyn’s charge swept over them. Even if Gweniver broke orders, Ricyn reflected, there wasn’t much of a way they could join in the unequal fight, because Dannyn’s men covered the field like a breaking wave. Just then the dun gates opened and Cavydd’s men slammed into the besiegers, from the rear. The shouting rang out as the mob plunged back and forth, horses rearing, swords flashing. Gweniver smiled so brightly as she watched that Ricyn was suddenly frightened of her.

      With war cries that were closer to screams of terror, one little clot of Eldidd men broke free from the melee and in their panic fled straight toward the reserve. Ricyn had just time to draw his sword before Gweniver howled out a challenge and spurred her horse straight for them. With a shout he went after her. Although he heard the men following him, he kept his eyes on her as she plunged into the middle of the desperate mob.