C. Cherryh - Fires of Azeroth

Then a hoarse shout warned him. He hurled the arrha off as he wheeled and leaned, holding to the mane only. Roh was there, and Lellin, and the rider that thundered past spun off over his horse's tail. More Shiua came on. Vanye gained his seat and whipped out his sword, feeling his backing horse stumble over a body, recover under the brutal drive of the spurs.

Hetharu. He saw the khal-lord coming down on him ahead of a trio of riders, and tried to gather himself to meet that charge. But Roh was already flashing past him, sword to sword with the khal with a shock of horse and metal, and Vanye veered instead for the rider at Hetharu's right– swordsman likewise. The halfling shouted hate and cut at him; Vanye whipped the sword aside and cut for the neck, knowing the man at the last instant: Hetharu's drugged minion. He grimaced in disgust and reined about for the two that had sped behind him, expecting attack on his flank, but arrhendim arrows had robbed him of those. Roh needed no help; in his jolted vision he saw Hetharu of Ohtij-in flung nigh headless from the saddle, and themselves suddenly in a wide area where only corpses remained, corpses, a scattering of dazed men and horses only beginning to recover, and a handful of arrhendim, and the main body of the horde yet hazy with distance.

He reined full about in desperation, seeking Morgaine– but he saw her then beyond them, she, and Merir, and a wide area where no dead lay and their enemies were in confused retreat Changeling's shimmer glowed moon-pale in the twilight, and his arm ached in sympathy, for he knew well what it was to wield it.

Then he recalled another companion, and looked right, turning his horse… saw with a pang of shame the little arrha, her white garments torn and bloody, who had gained her feet and caught one of the dazed horses. She could not reach the stirrup; the horse shied from her. Sezar reached her before any other, reached across the saddle from the other side and pulled her up. Then Vanye called to the rest of them and they started moving forward anxious to close the interval between themselves and Morgaine and Merir, for the Shiua were recovering themselves and their clear space was about to be invaded.

But Morgaine did not delay for them. Once she saw them coming she reined about and spurred Siptah into a charge, knifing toward the regrouping Shiua foot, driving them before her as they had scattered the first time. Arrows flashed about them, brief and short of the mark; the fleeing Shiua did not delay to fire again.

The Lesser Horn loomed now distinct and near, rising out of the twilight; a road led up to it, and marshlanders and Shiua humans scattered off it as they came. Some lingered to die, whirled away into that darkness at Changeling's tip; more fled, even casting down weapons in their terror, scrambling down the rocks at the side of the road.

A vast gateway was open before them, and a dark interior with yet another open gate beyond, showing road and rocks in the fading light Morgaine rode for that narrow shelter, and Merir beside her, the rest of them following in desperate haste, for arrows began to rattle on the stones about them. Then they gained the refuge, finding it empty-a fortress, of which the doors were splintered and riven, the near ones and the far. The horses skidded on the stone floor, hooves bringing echoes off the high arch above them, and stopped, hard breathing. Roh came in; and Lellin and Sezar; and Sharrn and Kessun and Perrin, the arrha with them. Vis came last and late. Perrin leaned from the saddle to embrace her, overwhelmed with relief, though the khemeis was bloody and hurt.

"Dev is not coming," said Sharrn; tears glistening on the old arrhen's face. "Kessun, we must make a pair now, we two."

"Aye, arrhen," said Kessun steadily enough. "I am with you."

Morgaine rode slowly to the gate by which they had entered, but the Shiua seemed to have hesitance to charge the fortress, and had fallen back again. She found Changeling's sheath and despite the tremor of her arm, managed to slide the blade in and still the fire. Then she leaned forward on the saddle, almost fell. Vanye dismounted and came to her side, reached up and took her down into his arms, overwhelmed with fear for her.

"I am not hurt," she said faintly, though sweat beaded her face. "I am not hurt." He sank down on his knees with her and held her tightly until the trembling should leave her. It was reaction, the pain of the sword. They all settled, content for the moment simply to draw breath. The old lord was almost undone, and the little arrha lay down quietly sobbing, for she, like Sharrn and Kessun, was alone.

"Doors." Morgaine murmured suddenly, trying to gather herself. "Better see if there is any stir outside."

"Rest," Vanye said, and rose and left her, picking his way back to the riven farther door of the fortress. There was little means to close those gates now, little left of them but splintered wreckage. He looked at what lay farther, a road up the height, winding turns indistinct in the gathering dusk. Sight of enemies there was none.

"Lellin," Morgaine said elsewhere, and timbers crashed. She was on her feet by the other doorway, that by which they had entered, trying to move it alone. Lellin rose to help her; Vanye came to assist; others gathered themselves up, exhausted as they were. Down on the flat, in the gray distance across the clearing, there was a force massing, riders gathering, sweeping up the horde of foot and forcing them on, driving them rather than leading.

"Well," Roh said hoarsely, "they have learned. That is what they should have done before now, put the weight of bodies against us. Too late for Hetharu. But some other leader has taken them now, and they care not how many human folk they lose."

"We must get these doors closed," Morgaine said.

The hinges were broken; the doors, thick at the edges as a man's arm, grated over stone and bowed alarmingly close to coming apart as they threw their strength against them. They moved the other valve as well, and that was too free at one point, for one hinge still held, but it too grated into place, with daylight between.

"That big timber," Roh said, indicating a rough, bark-covered log which had been an obstacle in the hall, amid the other fallen beams. "Their ram, doubtless. It can brace the center."

It was the best they had. They heaved it up with difficulty, braced it hard; but the broken gates could hardly stand long at any point if the Shiua brought another ram against it. The doors were a lattice of splinters, and though they braced them up with beams and debris from the rear doors, they could not stop them from bowing at their weak points, even to one man's strength.

"It is not going to hold," Vanye declared in despair, leaning head and arms against it. He looked at Morgaine and saw the same written on her face, exhausted as she was, her face barred with the half-light that sifted through their barricade.

"If," she said in a faint voice, "if those higher up this hill have not attacked us down here it can only be for one cause: that they see the others coming. They are waiting for that, to hit us from both sides at once and pin us here. And if we do not stop them from attacking Nehmin itself, then ultimately they can batter down its gates. Vanye, we have no choice. We cannot hold this place."

"Those down below will be on our heels before we can engage those above."

"Should we sit and die here, to no account at all? I am going on."

"Did I say I was not? I am with you."

"Get to horse, then. It is getting dark, and we dare not waste the little time we have."

"You cannot go on wielding that sword. It will kill you. Give it to me."