The Last Bastion
“His eyes flicked open but the rest of him stayed perfectly still. The sky was dark, just starting to grey where the sun would rise in another hour, as shouts spread through the horse market: ‘Arms! To arms! Forkbeards!’ A Vathan ran past him, throwing mail over his head. The riders who’d been his guard were scrambling to their feet, snatching up their javelots, casting their eyes around wildly in the dark, searching for the enemy. Gallow rolled into the far corner of the yard and curled up in t...he moonshadows, trying to make himself small. Trying to be unseen.
‘Get up! Get up!’ He recognised the voice. One of the men who wanted to be bashar in place of Mirrahj. Josper, was it? Something like that. ‘Forkbeards inside the walls! Arm yourselves! To your horses!’ Three Vathen ran past heading the other way, then more and more spilled out into the yard, and now Mirrahj was screaming at them to stay together, and right in the middle of the chaos a dozen Lhosir burst in through the market gates and launched themselves at the Vathen, who almost broke even though they had three times the numbers.MoreLess
‘Get up! Get up!’ He recognised the voice. One of the men who wanted to be bashar in place of Mirrahj. Josper, was it? Something like that. ‘Forkbeards inside the walls! Arm yourselves! To your horses!’ Three Vathen ran past heading the other way, then more and more spilled out into the yard, and now Mirrahj was screaming at them to stay together, and right in the middle of the chaos a dozen Lhosir burst in through the market gates and launched themselves at the Vathen, who almost broke even though they had three times the numbers.MoreLess
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