The soreavs of Nur had begun building a small fortification around the eastern side of the pontoon bridge. At this point it was little more than wall segments with partially barricaded openings, restricting access to the bridge by forcing traffic to come and go along the north-south river road. The bridge had been left extended across the river and reavers patrolled its length as if expecting a surprise attack to come from the river.

Garanth, hiding behind the ridge line, estimated five hundred spears were camped nearby. He had enough men to capture the bridge, but not before a couple of defenders with axes could sever the ties that kept the nearest half of the bridge from floating away.

"So have you heard they've found the true source of the Pardos?" Crease lay next to him, behind the ridge of ground, blowing on his hands and hugging himself. Winter had been stalking them for nearly a fortnight, each day ofwhich had slowly grown colder, damper and grayer.

Sticker, crouched next him, nodded. "I've heard everyone talking about it, but I don't see why it's so important."

"It's because of what else the source provides besides water," Crease said. "According to the dwerka, anyone who drinks from the true source will never die. The true source of the Pardos lies under the sacred mountain. It is the source of life itself."

"Is that so?" Sticker asked.

"Reavers say a lot of things," Knuckles, their daikon, rumbled, "especially just before a battle. Everyone's looking for a way out."

"The dwerka were dead serious," Crease objected. "They said our tacarch was there in the north when it was found and that the Oracle himself sealed it up to keep us afraid of death."

Knuckles snorted. "You should be afraid of death, especially if you keep calling him tacarch. He's the archon now."

"He was our tacarch before he was everyone else's archon," Sticker complained.

Knuckles turned to Garanth. "You tell them, dra."

Garanth, who had been purposefully ignoring the conversation, shrugged. "I don't mind them calling me tacarch. I never wanted to be called archon in the first place."

"Yes, well, tell them there's no truth to this rumor."

Garanth didn't feel like lying to them, but he knew he couldn't tell them the truth. "Well, I did go north with Karux." He gave them a slight smile. "As for the rest, you'll have to ask him."

"That's not a no!" Crease said.

"He's pulling your leg," Knuckles said.

"It's still not a no."

Garanth slapped Knuckles on the shoulder and got up and walked back to a huddle of arcanths behind a copse of dead trees several minutes north. The rest of their forces were crowded into tents further back which sprouted like dubious mushrooms from dead fields.

"Still no movement, eh?" Tekmos asked.

"None," Garanth said.

"Patience," Anankaes urged. "When word reaches them that Korion-Tamia is under attack, they'll be forced to send reinforcements."

"Unless the attack is beaten off," Garanth muttered.

"Karux knows what he's doing," Anankaes assured him. "He may drag out the attack to ensure he has drawn in all the enemy, but he won't fail, especially when he has Macander with him."

Garanth chuckled appreciatively. He spent the rest of the day nervously pacing back and forth between the spies on the ridge and the arcanths huddled over hot cups of chaia in camp.

"I assume you've heard the rumor of the source?" Tekmos asked.

Garanth sighed. "Not you too?"

Tekmos nodded. "It's running through the tireav like dysentery. Came in with the dwerka on the last resupply."

Garanth looked back across the field of spears. "We need to keep the men's minds on the task at hand, not some vague future hope."

Tekmos gave him a penetrating look. "You know a secret like that, if it were true, would be too big to hold for long. It will get out."

Garanth was considering a reply that wouldn't sound like a confession when he heard the strained call of a runner sprinting toward them.

"Archon, Arcanths, dras, there's movement within the fortifications."

"Finally." Garanth moved back to the ridge. The arcanths followed.

"You lot stay back," the daikon shouted as more men started to follow.

Large numbers of the enemy were crossing the bridge. Garanth turned to Knuckles. "Tell the men to break camp. We'll attack today." He looked up at the thickly overcast sky wondering what time it was. He suspected that sunset was not far away, but then it had looked like twilight all day.

"So what's the plan?" Tekmos asked.

"We need to overwhelm them so they don't get the chance to destroy the bridge. I think we can sneak about half our tireav around to the south and attack both the north and south entrances at the same time."

"What about the eastern wall?" Anankaes asked. "It appears undermanned now."

"Yes, but I fear the wall would still delay any attack from that side long enough for them to take out the bridge. We're hoping to overwhelm them so they don't have the chance to resist."

"It's a bit of a hike," Tekmos said, "but there's a dead tree line along the far side of that field. I should be able to sneak some men to the south entrance that way.

"Do it," Garanth said. "When you're in place, attack immediately. We'll wait for you to make the first move. Make it loud."

The activity within the fortification had quieted down by the time the tireavs were in place. When they heard the commotion at the south entrance, Garanth's forces charged from the north. Inside the fortification, the groups split off and Garanth's group headed for the bridge. Men with axes were already chopping at the heavy rope cables securing the bridge, but Garanth's forces made short work of them and turned their backs to it, defending the bridge from the rest of Nur's reavers.

For a moment it was impossible to tell who was winning, but as more men fell, the Har-Toran spears began to converge in the center of the fortification. Glancing over his shoulder, Garanth spied a force of reavers charging toward them from the far side of the river. "Knuckles! Get your men on the bridge!"

Knuckles called out for his reavers to follow him and stumped out onto the bridge in a lumbering charge. For a few moments it was a wild melee with an occasional reaver falling into the river to be swept away, then the Har-Torans got organized. The shield fighters pushed their way to the fore and the long spears, gripping up on their shafts, worked their way behind them and together they began pushing Nur's reavers back towards the shore, stepping carefully over the corpses of the fallen.

They were three-quarters of the way across when men on the shore took up axes and began chopping at the far bridge's binding.

Garanth shouted over his shoulder at the men stepping onto the bridge from the east side. "Back! Go back!"

The whole tireav had started to cross behind him. It took a moment for the men at the far end to understand and turn around. The bridge lurched under Garanth's feet as some of the bindings parted and the river's current began to yank at the structure. The bridge began rocking violently as it worked the massive cables loose. Seeing the western half of the bridge was about to break free, more reavers took up the shout to turn around and a panicked rush back to the eastern shore followed. The rocking eased as that section of bridge came away and started moving downriver.

With a flying leap, Garanth landed on the remaining eastern half, caught by the men waiting there. Behind him the other end turned southward, picking up speed as the river current tightened its grip. Garanth's heart lurched. Hundreds of his men still stood crowded tightly together on the floating section. It rocked some, whether from the current or the nervous shifting men, Garanth couldn't tell. He could only watch helplessly as Knuckles grabbed the guide rope strung between the bridge's side posts and shouted for his men to hold on. At the far end, men were still fighting, spears jabbing back and forth even as they were being carried away.

"Mountain help them," a reaver next to Garanth murmured. 

The floating section of bridge abruptly stopped its downstream drift. A few men were flung off, but most dropped into a crouch as the wooden section suddenly ignored the current as if stuck to a rock.

"Get ropes! Get some ropes!" Garanth called back over his shoulder. "We can still save them!"

Before anyone could move, the section of bridge began drifting upstream against the current.

Garanth searched the far shore and saw a commotion moving toward them along the river road. "It's Karux! Arcanths prepare you men to attack!"

The bridge drifted back into place and stopped as if it had been reattached.

"Attack!" Garanth cried out and they pushed their way back onto the western bridge. Sandwiched between Garanth's and Karux's forces the reavers of Nur began to flee back into the city. The defenders started closing the gates even as the remains of their soreev ran toward it. Some of Garanth's men, following close on their heels, were about to be trapped inside so he lifted his horn and sounded out the rally to me signal. His forces quickly gathered at the foot of the bridge and they were soon joined by the reavers who had come south from Kerwyn's Hill.

"Be careful with that thing," Karux growled when he caught up with Garanth. "We hadn't finished dealing with the reavers on the road and my spears nearly abandoned me to answer its call."

"Arcanths to me!" Garanth called out.

The arcanths hurried to him and Tekmos' blood covered face grinned up at him. "What's the plan?"

"Obviously we're committed to take the city. Unless someone's got a better idea, we find a way over, under, around or through this wall."

"I can take care of the gate," Karux said. "But Nur is a big place, what are you going to do once you're inside?"

"I say we head straight for the barn where their council of elders meets. I suspect their reavers may concentrate there. If not, once we capture their elders, we can order them to surrender their spears."

"Give me a minute to prepare," Karux said and walked off toward the city gate.

"Macander, how fare your men?" Garanth asked.

"We lost a few rushing through Korion-Tamia. The rest are pretty banged up."

"Shall I have our men take the lead?"

"It would be best."

"Very well, you arcanths talk to your tacarchs and daikons and get your men ready. Darkness is coming. If we're going to do this today, we must move quickly."

His leaders rushing off, Garanth had a brief moment to catch his breath. He stood by the side of the river looking up at the walls of Nur and the reavers jeering at them from its top. All he could think about was going home and sleeping in his own bed. Unfortunately his path home led, once more, through this city. He hoped it was for the last time.

"Garanth! Where's Karux?"

Garanth turned around to see Crease hobbling toward him one arm around Sticker's shoulders. His other hand was pressed against his side which was sheathed in bright blood.

Knuckles, who seemed to be hovering nearby rushed over to them. "What have you done now?"

"He decided to play hero and throw himself in front of a spear meant for me," Sticker said.

"I did not," Crease groaned. "I tried to get out of the away and ducked the wrong direction."

"I saw you," Sticker said. "You were yelling and waving your arms at me."

"I was yelling at you, yeah, but then I fell."

"After you got stuck. Admit it. You were trying to do something brave."

"I'm not that stupid," Crease gasped.

"I'm afraid you've really done it this time," Knuckles said in a shaken voice. He looked up. "He's bleeding something awful."

"Come on," Crease said in a faint voice, his face growing pale. "You know I always get hurt, but never too badly." He slumped to the ground.

"Crease! Stay awake for me!" Knuckles shouted.

"Pick him up," Garanth said. "Karux is right over here. He turned and raced over to Karux slapped a hand on his shoulder and spun him around.

"What do you think—?"

Knuckles and Sticker lay the unconscious Crease at his feet.

"What? Again?" Karux stared at him a moment then waved a hand at him dismissively and turned back to staring at the gate.

"But we need you to heal him!" Sticker objected. "He's dying."

"He's all right now," Karux said over his shoulder. "Now stop bothering me unless you want to find your own way into this city."

"What? Just like that?" Knuckles asked.

"I'm getting to know his patterns pretty well," Karux grumbled.

Sticker and Knuckles tore open armor and pawed at his rent and bloody tunic. The wound had closed.

"Stop it." Crease twitched and mumbled. "That tickles."

"Find a safe place to stow him and give him some water," Karux said without looking back. "He'll be on his feet in a sennight, assuming the rest of us live through the night."

There were a number of other wounded and these were all taken to a makeshift camp set up at the head of the river road to the north. Those able to fight were arrayed before the walls of the city. Units were reformed and weapons were passed around, taken from either the wounded or fallen foes to give to those who had lost theirs in the last assault--especially those that had fought their way across the bridge. After a moment, Karux turned to Garanth. "I'm ready whenever you give the word."

Garanth called out to his arcanths. "Ready?"

They returned nods.

Garanth raised his horn and gave a single blast: ready spears. The note thrilled through everyone and even Garanth felt a surge of alertness and an urge to leap to the attack.

"Do it," Garanth told Karux.

The gates burst into flames which roiled out and up in a blast of heat. The men on the walls screamed as the rising flames consumed them. Garanth raised his horn again and Karux made another gesture. The gate exploded inward in flaming splinters.

Two blasts on the horn and the tireavs flung themselves forward.