How did he get up there? Belili was panicking. He must have run along the wall to the next ladder. Sarras, why would you do something so foolish?

It was a stupid question and Belili knew it. Her older brother had a knack for finding himself ways to get into trouble. Only this time it would get him killed. The Epi-khmet warrior would notice him any moment and then Saras would die.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” The question came from a man in the last rank of Harbis’ group. “Get back!” There was fear in his eyes. His hands were clenching so hard around the shaft of his spear that his knuckles were white.

Belili ignored him, her eyes on her brother.

Before the man could say anything else Harbis reached back and pulled him to the front of the group.

“Use your spears!” the guard chief shouted. “High and low. High and low.”

I must do something, Belili thought, watching every step her brother took. Any moment he could decide to run at the Epi-khmet. But what could she do? Run to Harbis?

She took a step in that direction but then her eyes wandered to the warrior on the wall. Pulling the ladder back up, he was warily watching the fight below him.

That gave Belili an idea. If she ran to Harbis, she might inadvertently betray Saras when the men turned their attention to him. Shouting at him would lead to the same result. The only thing left was helping him herself.

The warrior must not notice Saras.

She picked up a stone the size of a bird’s egg and threw it at the Epi-khmet. The stone went wide, her target never even noticing it flying by. Belili immediately looked for another.

‘Good idea, girl!’ Urk called from somewhere. ‘Aim for his face. He is wearing a leather guard to protect his forehead.’

The god’s voice, somehow ringing clear in her ear despite the noise of fighting around her, stirred anger in Belili. Don’t just cheer. Help us!

‘What… did you just hear me?’

Belili’s hand closed around a fist-sized stone. Rising she saw the shadow that was Saras closing in. There was no time left.

Help me, she thought, putting all her desperation into the plea. Just with this one throw. Or they will come over the wall and kill everybody.

Saras started to sprint, the sickle sword raised in both hands.

The Epi-khmet’s head whipped up.

‘This is not so simple…’

Belili hurled the stone at the same moment the warrior dropped the ladder. Just this once. She is not going to know.

She had put all her strength into the throw, and it flew in a wide arc. Seeing it come down her heart sank. It was going to miss.

His arms rising, the Epi-khmet was stepping forward to meet Saras’ charge. The stone would land behind him.

“Please!”

The very heartbeat the scream left Belili’s lips, the stone’s trajectory shifted by an arm’s length, hitting the warrior in the ear. The man’s head was rocked to the site, causing him to stumble. And then Saras was on him. The sickle sword came down and bit into the man’s shoulder.

‘There!’

Only the battlement kept the wounded warrior from falling. Using it to steady himself he managed to face Saras who was raising his weapon for a second strike. Their eyes met and Saras hesitated.

“Kill him, boy!”

Harbis' shout carried over the noise of the fighting.

Saras seemed to have heard him. His posture straightened and he brought down the sword. But the heartbeat of hesitation had been enough for his opponent. Before the sharpened bronze could split the man’s skull he kicked out, connecting with Saras' lower chest.

Saras wasn’t small but he was still a boy and the warrior’s kick sent him tumbling backward. Belili watched as his left foot missed the edge of the wall by a hand’s breath.

“Saras!”

‘Hey, I just helped that fool. What is he doing?’

Belili wanted to run to her brother but he had fallen behind the two Epi-khmet holding Harbis’ men back. With a dozen grown men between them, she hadn’t even seen him land.

It’s fine, she thought. He will be fine. The wall is not high.

One of the two warriors performed two wide slashes against the spears pointing at him, making the bronze ring and driving the townsfolk a step back. Using the space he had gained the warrior looked over his shoulder and shouted something to his comrade on the wall.

Holding his heavily bleeding shoulder, the man forced himself upright. He only had one useable arm left but that would be enough to push the ladder over the wall. If men were waiting on the other side, they could set it up for themselves.

“Inashtar’s tits, stop him!” Harbis shouted.

With a pained expression on his face, the warrior let go of his mangled shoulder and reached for the ladder lying in front of him.

And froze.

An arrow protruded from his chest.

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In the darkness, Belili had neither heard nor seen it fly. Apparently, neither had the Epi-khmet who fumbled at the shaft in confusion.

Another arrow hit him in the face, piercing his head, and dropping him where he stood.

The men in the back of Harbis’ group cheered.

A man pushed past Belili, hefting another arrow to his bow. It was Dagan, the tall man under Harbis. His eyes were on the two remaining Epi-khmet, clearly intending to line up a shop from close range.

As if sensing the danger, the two remaining warriors under the wall suddenly broke to the right. Slashing left and right they cut through the encirclement and sprinted along the wall.

Taken off guard the wheezing townsfolk stared after them until Harbis kicked the man in front of him. “After them you bastards!”

About half the group reacted immediately and ran after the Epi-khmet. The rest was a heartbeat slower but before they could join the chase Harbis raised his arm. “You lot, come with me. We need to get up there.” He turned half around. “Dagan – keep your eye on the wall. Anybody sticks his head up, put an arrow between his eyes.” Then he ran off in the opposite direction, leading the remaining men to the next ladder.

Belili didn’t care about any of that. The moment the Epi-khmet had fled, she had started to push through the crowd. She had to get to Saras.

And there he was. Right below the wall trying to push himself up to a seated position, tears running down his dusty cheeks.

“Saras!” As Belili went to her knees next to him, she immediately noticed that he was only using his left arm, cradling the other in his lab.

“Belili, my arm,” he whined. There was a bend in his right forearm where the skin had already begun to discolor.

Grasping her tunic with his left hand, Saras huddled against her. “It hurts!”

Careful not to touch his broken arm, Belili hugged her brother's head to her chest. “It is fine. It will be fine. Gulan will heal you, I am sure.”

She prayed that it was true. A bad break would cripple her brother for life. His dream of becoming a warrior would be over. Would Zabu keep him on the farm? A farm worker with only one arm wasn’t worth much.

If Zabu and Tala are even still alive, she thought bitterly. To her surprise, she felt tears rolling down her own cheeks. Saras had almost died right in front of her. And everybody else…. It was too much. She buried her face in her bother’s hair and webbed silently.

“Please step aside and let me take a look at him,” a voice said from behind her. Gentle hands touched her shoulders and carefully pulled her away from Saras. “I must examine him.”

Finally, recognizing the healer's voice through their weeping, Belili let herself be pushed aside. Wiping away her tears she watched as Gulan leaned over her brother, his hands flying over his body, touching and poking.

Saras had regained a bit of composure and tried to stifle his tears but his face showed whenever the healer’s hands made him move the arm.

“Hm,” Gulan said, leaning back a bit. “Looks like it is just the arm. If we are lucky, it is a clean break. Then you will have a good chance of healing.” He rose to his feet. “The gods protected you tonight. More than many others.”

Following the healer’s shoulder glance, Belili became aware of their surroundings for the first time since she had found Saras still alive.

The noise of fighting had been replaced by the wailing of women and children. Small groups of shadows huddled around the limp forms of around a half-dozen men.

A man with a bloody rag wrapped around his leg was slowly shuffling by leaning heavily on the woman by his side. He was silently whispering encouragement to her, trying to quell her tears while blood was still running down his leg. Similar scenes of pain, grief, and comfort played out all around them.

This is not like the heroic tales Saras loves so much, Belili thought. These are just people. Families.

“Your legs are fine,” Gulan said to Saras. “With your sister’s help, you can walk back to the house. When I return, I will give you something for the pain and splint your arm.” He gave Saras’ left shoulder a short squeeze. “I saw what you did. Without you, the enemy might have taken the wall.” He straightened and stood up to move on to the next patient.

As his eyes met Belili’s in passing a shiver ran down her back. There was the same complicated expression but this time there was a glimmer in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

What does he see when he looks at me? She thought.

Saras managed to get back to his feet, suppressing his pain as best as he could.

“Do you need help?” she asked, carefully reaching out to him.

He shook his head, while his eyes searched the ground around them. “I can walk. My sword… ” He set his jaw against a ripple of pain.

“I will carry it for you,” Belili said quickly, spotting the bronze blade a couple of paces away, below the wall.

The two siblings slowly made their way through the islands of mourning. Nobody paid attention to them. The townsfolk were occupied with their own grief or stood around talking to each other in hushed voices.

Suddenly a heavy hand held on to Belili’s shoulder. Startled, she flinched away and raised the Epi-khmet sword.

“Careful with that, girl,” Harbis said, raising his hand. His voice was less gruff than she was used from him. He was tired. They all were.

The guard chief pointed at the weapon Belili was holding in front of her. “It might look a bit like a sickle but the blade is on the outside of the curve.”

Embarrassed, Belili lowered the heavy sword and bowed her head. “I am sorry. I was startled.”

“We are all tired and on edge,” he said, accepting her apology. “This was a bad night.” For a moment his gaze wandered around before returning to them. “Your name is Saras, right?”

Saras nodded. “Yes… “

“I saw you on the wall,” Harbis said. “You did good. You are untrained but you have courage. That is hard to come by. If your arm heals up properly, come and see me. You have a place with us if you want it.”

His words made Saras peek up, the pain seemingly forgotten for a moment.

“We belong to Zabu,” Belili said quickly. “Saras cannot join you without his permission.”

Harbis looked down at her, his face hard to read in the flicker of the closest torches. “You are right… but Zabu is dead and I think the only way you will see anybody from your farm again is if those bastards catch you alive to sell us into slavery.”

“Do you think they will attack again, chief Harbis?” Saras asked.

“After this,” Harbis waved toward the wall where the fighting had taken place, “for sure. We might have stopped them tonight but considering our numbers, we did quite pathetically. They were over-eager to try the wall without having their own ladders prepared. We killed one of the Epi-khmet and two bandits that climbed up before we threw the corpse of the warrior down and the rest fled. But the other two got away and killed two more men before jumping over the wall.” He scratched his chest. “We lost three times as many men tonight. And next time they will come prepared.”

Belili couldn’t see Harbis' expression but his voice hinted anger and resignation. He sounds like Ninkar just told him to scrub an already clean pot, she thought. The task was senseless, but you had no choice but to go through the motions anyway.

“Harbis.” Gulan waved to them from a little away. “May I speak with you for a moment?”

“Of course, healer,” Harbis called back. Then he turned to the siblings one more time. “Get some rest.” He nodded and walked over to Gulan who stood alone several paces away from the closest group.

“Come,” Belili said. “Let’s go back to the house and wait for the healer. Maybe Tala can give you something for the pain, too. She knows about ointments.”

Saras shook his head. “It is not so bad. I can endure it.”

Belili didn’t respond. Her brother tried to be brave, but she could see him wince with every step. She could only hope that Gulan would finish his work here soon and come home.

And then what? She thought.

Master Jas’ar had told her to find a way out if it looked like the town would fall. From what she had seen, Harbis, the man responsible for the defense, hadn’t much doubt that it would.

But now Saras is injured. Can we risk running away after the bone is set? She shook her head. Her brother would probably need medicine and rest. When people got injured on the farm, Zabu took them off the fieldwork for several days at least.

I need to talk to Master Jas’ar. Hopefully, the magus would be awake and recovered enough by the morrow.

Slowly walking through the streets Belili had to yawn. As the tension she had felt during the fighting slowly subsided, only tiredness remained. Realizing there wasn’t anything more she could do tonight, she didn’t fight it.