Thomas Harlan - The Gate of fire

Boom! The door panel creaked, and the bar split along its length. The Hashim in the outer corridor gave a great shout, sounding like an army. Boom! The bar cracked, and the door snapped open, lodging against the heavy chest of drawers. Spears poked through the opening, their flat heads questing like snakes. Mohammed held up a hand, warning Uri off. Da'ud ran into the room and skidded to a halt on Mohammed's right. The chest groaned and screeched as it was ground back across the floor. The black headdresses of dozens of Hashim could be made out through the door. A spear flew into the room and clattered on the floor behind Mohammed. He tensed, preparing for violent action.

The Hashim swung their ram again, and the chest of drawers was knocked aside with a great clatter. Four Hashim, their long robes flying out, leapt into the room. Their faces were obscured with dark gauze, showing only eyes filled with hatred. The first man's saber hacked at Mohammed, and he caught the tip with his own blade and knocked it aside. A cheer went up from the hallway, and more Hashim boiled into the room. Mohammed gave a great shout and attacked, his own blade raining blows on the Hashim. The lead man parried the first two strokes, but then Mohammed caught him on the pommel and knocked the saber away. Other Hashim struggled past, trading sword strokes with Da'ud and trying to close with Uri.

Mohammed punched the man in the face with the pommel of his saber, feeling bones shatter under the blow, then hacked sideways at one of the men stabbing at Uri. The man, caught from behind, cried out as the saber cut into his spine, then fell. Uri rushed into the space in the line of men trying to bring him to bay, whirling the spear over his head, and gutted the man to his right. Mohammed turned, with Uri at his back, and pressed into the door, hewing at the men struggling to pass over the trunks and divans that had been piled behind it. One tried to jump away but fell heavily, and Mohammed's saber sank into the stomach of the Hashim behind him. Blood gurgled as Mohammed pulled his blade free. Uri killed another of the swordsmen with the spear.

There was a cry behind them both, and Mohammed risked a quick glance over his shoulder. Three Hashim had gotten past and had brought down poor Da'ud. They hacked at his body as he struggled on the floor in a spreading pool of blood. Then Roxane appeared in the doorway, straining to heft a heavy Roman-style arcuballista of ancient dark wood. A quatrefoil bolt lay in the cradle. Mohammed wrenched his head away, barely blocking the blow of the next Hashim through the doorway. He heard a sharp twang as the steel spring released, and a scream of pain, but no more. Two Hashim attacked; their blades a bright blur in the air. He locked one with his own sword and wrenched sideways. The second man's saber could not stop and hacked into his fellow's shoulder. Both men cried out in rage and Mohammed gave a mighty heave, throwing the two men back in a heap.

Uri rushed back and impaled one of the Hashim who had slain Da'ud, running the spear all the way through his body. The noble pushed the fouled weapon aside, and the man slumped to the floor, his hands clawing at the ash shaft that transfixed him. The remaining Hashim in the room had grappled with Roxane, but now he turned, hearing the sound of Uri's rushing feet. The Hashim warrior threw the woman down, and a long knife rasped out of the sheath at his side. The Ben-Sarid skidded to a halt, his fine-tooled leather boots sliding a little on the marble floor. His own dagger appeared in his hand; a blade of Syrian steel twelve inches long. The Hashim shouted and lunged, cutting sharply overhand at Uri's head. The Ben-Sarid ducked and slammed the Hashim in the chest with his shoulder. The two men grappled, hands locked on their wrists.

Spearmen crowded the door in front of Mohammed and he fell back, staying out of reach of the metal tongues. He tried rushing the man on the right side, but the others covered too quickly. Mohammed snarled at the men. "Uri, finish him and get back to the next room!"

Behind the Quraysh merchant, Uri and the Hashim were struggling on the floor, each trying to gain position. Sweat spattered off the Hashim into Uri's eyes. The Hashim's knife hand ground lower, the blade reaching for Uri's face. The Ben-Sarid wrenched to the side, escaping the bite of the knife, which scraped on the floor next to his head. Mohammed backpedaled past the two men, jumping over their legs, and-in passing-slashed down with his saber. The curved tip cut into the side of the man's head and blood fountained. The Hashim screamed and tried to roll away. Uri cracked the man's knife hand against the floor, sending the knife skittering away, and drove his own blade sideways into the man's chest.

The Hashim at the door howled in rage and pushed through, filling the room. Uri scrambled past Mohammed, who threw the next door closed. The Hashim were at it in grains, axe blows raining against the decorative ash panel. It began splintering immediately. Mohammed looked around for something with which to reinforce the door.

His daughter's handmaidens had a beautiful sleeping and sewing room, but it was woefully lacking in large heavy objects to block doors with. Uri looked back at him and shrugged his shoulders.

"Back to the next room," Mohammed wheezed. The battle was wearing on him; he was not so young anymore. "Has Sayyqi cut a hole to the roof yet?"

– |Jalal jogged up the street, twenty or thirty Tanukh and Quraysh at his back. Around him Makkah was burning as the pent-up hatreds of thirty years of quiet conflict erupted into open battle. Great mansions on the hill above and below him burned, their windows gaping wide with rushing flame. Clouds mounted to the dark heavens above, lit from below with ruddy light. As the Tanukh had ascended the hill, they passed scattered fighting and many bodies left to lie in the streets. Now they neared the residence of Lady Roxane, and Jalal slowed. He turned a corner and stopped, raising a hand in warning. Behind him the other Tanukh came to a halt. Some of their number passed the word, even to the clansmen who had joined them in their exodus from the Quraysh quarter in the city below.

The banner had done its work, as had their war cry. The clan, apprised of the danger to their favorite son, had risen fiercely against the Hashim, and now the green turbans hunted the black through dark streets and abandoned buildings. Steady streams of people were fleeing the city through the gates left open by the departure of their Hashim guardians. Jalal peered around the corner, his face wrapped in a long green cloth. Distant fires gleamed in his eyes. A street with three great houses on it lay before him. In front of one, where a gate had been broken down, a crowd of Hashim was loitering about, talking. Torches illuminated the scene, showing indistinct lumps in the street.

Jalal signaled behind him for Shadin. The other man hurried up, a great longsword in his hands.

"There are Hashim at the gate," Jalal whispered into Shadin's ear. "Send the archers forward. Everyone else in two columns-we will go far left and far right, running to the attack. The archers will fire down the center. We must take the gate quickly."

Shadin nodded sharply and moved back down the line of men, whispering commands. At the corner, Jalal drew out his bow and strung it, keeping one eye on the Hashim. Very faintly he could hear the sounds of men shouting in the house. Perhaps there was still some resistance. No matter, he thought, if there is no one left alive, then the captain's funeral pyre will be lit by a mound of foreskins. Jalal grinned unpleasantly at the thought. Shadin returned to his side with a group of men close behind him.

More shouting came from within the great house, and the men at the gate turned to look inside. Jalal chopped his hand down and jerked it forward. The bowmen fanned out past him into the street. Shadin was hard on their heels, and the Tanukh split into two horns, rushing silently forward. Jalal drew his bow in a smooth, violent movement and sent the first arrow hissing away.