Xessa began weaving through the battle, looking desperately for Toxte, blackness threatening at the edges of her eyes like a second night falling even though the sun, finally, was rising.

Two men came for her, hefting clubs. The eja drew her knife and flung it, underhand, the way she cast the net to tangle a Drowned, and it took the man on her right in the belly. He dropped to his knees. Xessa grunted, leapt over a corpse and parried the club of the other. She slammed the butt of her spear into his exposed ribs and forced him back, then pivoted and sliced downwards into the kneeling man’s stomach, opening him up from chest to groin. Xessa spun the spear and punched the butt into his face, sending him back in a spray of blood and teeth.

The club thudded into the side of Xessa’s left knee with a sickening crunch. Her leg buckled, the sheer size of the hurt stealing her breath and strength. She collapsed. The warrior swung again and Ossa tore into his arm, the dog arriving out of nowhere. In the moment Ossa’s intervention won her, Xessa spun on her knees, pain exploding through the left, and stabbed the man in the chest, the belly, the shoulder, a frenzy of panicked stabbing until he fell, twitched and died.

The white-hot fire pulsing through Xessa’s left knee convinced her it was smashed to pulp, but when she made herself stand and test her weight on it, she could move. It felt as if there were shards of broken pottery inside the joint, but if it came to it, she could fight. If it came to it, she could run.

Within a few dozen steps, she had to do both. These were eagle warriors – free and elite Pechaqueh – the first she’d seen up close. She didn’t have time to study them, instead parrying with a speed born of panic, not practice. The impact shivered through the spear improperly set in her hands and she stumbled back, managed a second wild block, and somehow managed to slice her opponent’s arm.

The breath of his pain against her face and she whipped the spear in a vertical arc, driving the butt up between his legs. She missed his balls, the shaft slamming into his thigh, but it staggered him, giving her time to pull back and thrust. It went high and the flint tip raked through his cheek, missed his eye and laid open his nose. As he bellowed, she thrust again and speared his throat.