They rushed out of the lane, falling among the men crowded at the door, surprising and jostling them. Reynevan thrust quickly with his knife, Rixa smote with wide blows of her backsword. Cries and curses filled the lane.

“Inside!”

From behind the damaged hasp and staple, the hand cannon fired again, ball shot wailed. In the flash of the gunfire, Reynevan saw just before him the man with the shaven head holding a battleaxe raised to strike. He grabbed the crossbow slung over his shoulder and shot from the hip, without aiming. The shaven man groaned and slumped to the ground.

“Inside!”

The attackers also had crossbows and harquebuses. As Reynevan and Rixa rushed into the courtyard, it suddenly became bright with gunfire, bolts were hissing through the air. Reynevan, deafened by the roar, tripped on a corpse, fell into a pool of blood. Somebody running after him tripped over him and fell alongside with a clank. Reynevan hit him with the crossbow and quickly rolled away, right by the feet of the next. Just beside his head something clanged metallically against the cobbles, throwing up sparks. He jerked the misericord from his boot, leaped to his feet and thrust so hard his shoulder crunched, the four-sided blade penetrating the rings of the mail shirt with a grinding noise. The assailant howled, collapsed to his knees, dropping a heavy iron hook right on Reynevan. He caught the hook, swung and whacked the kneeling man and felt and heard the hook penetrate his skull.

“Reynevan! Here! Quickly!”

Somewhere in the courtyard there was a howl, a wheeze and a choke. Reynevan leaped to his feet and ran towards the entrance of the house. A crossbow bolt whistled just above his head. Something boomed and flashed, a fiery puddle stinking of burning fat spread over the stones of the courtyard. Another bottle smashed against the wall of the house and burning oil ran in a cascade over the cornices. A third smashed on the steps, the flames at once engulfing the two bodies lying there; blood hissed as it evaporated. More missiles flew from the entrance. It suddenly became as bright as day. Reynevan saw a bearded man in a fox fur cap kneeling behind a pillar in the porch. It could only have been the householder, Maizl Nachman ben Gamaliel. Beside him knelt a youngster, trying to load a hook gun with shaking hands. Behind another pillar stood Rixa Cartafila of Fonseca with her curved backsword, and the expression on her face made Reynevan shiver. Just behind Rixa, holding a harquebus, was…

“Tybald Raabe? You, here?”

“Duck!”

Bolts flew from the door, chipping plaster from the wall. The youngster trying to charge the hook gun screamed piercingly and curled up into a ball. Rixa retreated from the roaring fire, shielding her face with her forearm. Reynevan pulled the youngster behind a wall, helped by Tybald Raabe.