All across the yard the Forge Born were awakening, searching for prey.

“There!” Rosheen pointed to the mule.

Bantam Flyn rushed forward, clapping Pocket heartily on the shoulder. His smile fell when he looked into the litter.

Rosheen breathed a curse. She did not know how Muckle was still breathing.

Sir Corc nodded to her, giving Padric only the most cursory of glances.

Never one for questions.

Besides, their deaths were not far off.

The Unwound were coming from all sides.

Some still stood dormant, and they were the greatest threat. One sprang to life next to them, its fist slamming forward. Sir Corc barely raised his shield in time and the wood splintered under the force of the blow, sending the knight stumbling backwards. He threw the ruined shield at the charging killer, sending it shattering against the iron body. Sir Corc tried to leap back as it swung, but the blade caught him in the side and he grunted hard. Rosheen saw a great dent in his breastplate. The knight sprang back into the fight, pounding at his opponent, the mace a blur. Bantam Flyn came to his aid and soon the Unwound fell.

Sir Corc staggered away, clutching his side, his breathing labored. Rosheen saw blood dripping from underneath his armor, running down his mail skirt in dark rivulets. But there was no time for wounds. Another Unwound was upon them. The coburn met its ferocious charge, Flyn parrying its swinging sword while Sir Corc struck it with his mace. The Unwound ignored the blow, swatting the knight aside and swinging wildly at Flyn. The squire was swift and managed to turn the attacks, but the furious onslaught pushed him back.

A shadow fell over Rosheen and she looked up to see another of the metal beasts looming over her.

There was nowhere to go.

Padric scooped her into his arms, cradling her into his body as the massive iron blade came down. Rosheen’s ears burst with the sound of ringing metal, and she heard Padric cry out. She looked up to see the Unwound’s wrist caught and held firm by another metal hand.

Coltrane.

He grappled the Unwound and threw it, sending it crashing into the one attacking Flyn. Half a dozen more were coming, and Coltrane stepped forward to meet them.

“Brothers,” Coltrane said, “control yourselves.”

The Unwound charged.

“Very well.”