“Signy,” came an anguished cry.
Tristan’s head jerked up and he looked towards the cliff edge, where Rook was swinging his longsword viciously. At his feet lay the slumped form of Signy, a slow trickle of blood staining the ground around her. They were surrounded and being slowly pushed back towards the cliff. Soon they would join those who had fallen from the cliffs to the river below.
Tristan fought his way through to them, turning to stand alongside Rook, the press of the Brathadair sudden and fierce. He swerved the cut of a blade, but the single step back sent pebbles crumbling from beneath his foot. His arms flailed as he tried to keep his balance.
Rook reached across and stabbed the man who had been about to finish him off. Tristan barely had time to catch his breath before the ne
