Niamh—General Lohan's Last Charge.

	Niamh and Fiachra arrived at Blackpool at sunset.  They had pushed themselves and their horses as hard as they’d dared, and had gone without food or sleep to make better time.  Fiachra’s gelding was blown and limping, but the little red horse had kept pace with Embarr all the way.  Embarr’s head drooped and every now and then he stumbled over the rocks in their path, but now that they were close enough to the city to smell it his ears perked up and he quickened his pace.  Niamh’s body ached from riding and her eyes felt dry and gritty from missing sleep.  She was eager to finish the trip so she could walk on her own two feet again and try to ease the pain in her hip.  Her caution won out, though, and she pulled back hard on Embarr’s mane to make him stop at the bottom of a shallow slope that was still a safe distance from the city.  The gelding drifted for a few more steps until he realized he was going on alone and stopped.  The jolt woke Fiachra, who was drowsing over his horse’s neck and he sat up and stretched.
	“What is it?” he said.
	“The gates are shut,” said Niamh.
	Blackpool’s gates were a pair of heavy wooden slabs covered with wide bands of steel.  The city had been through centuries of war and peace and war again, and its gates were burned black and pitted with scars, but Niamh was sure the defenses were still sturdy enough to keep the two of them out.
	“Then how do we get in?  We can’t do anything from out here,” said Fiachra.
	“We think for a minute,” said Niamh.
	She trotted Embarr up to the city wall, to the left side of the gates, and swung herself down to the ground.  She leaned against Embarr’s flank for a minute to let the blood flow back into her legs and studied the wall.  It had been built out of thick, rough-hewn granite blocks.  Just here, several broad plates of stone jutted out of the face of the wall, going almost all the way to the top.  If she moved fast and didn't rest all her weight on one step, she thought she could climb it.
	When she felt ready she put one foot on the ledge of rock that stuck out from the wall at ankle height to test it.  The stone was cold and damp to the touch but it wasn’t until she put her weight on it that she found out it was slippery as ice, too.  She lost her balance and fell flat on her back at Fiachra’s feet.
	“That’s not thinking.  That’s you acting like a fox because hanging around with Ciara has put silly ideas in your head.  Even if you got over like that they’d only shoot you as soon as they saw you,” he said.
	“It was a better plan that sitting on the ground and staring at the gate.  It would have worked just fine if someone hadn’t oiled the damned stones,” said Niamh.
	“You're joking. Why on earth would they do a think like that?” said Fiachra.
	“Because I told them to,” said Deirdre.  
	Niamh hadn’t smelled any foxes when they’d arrived and there was nowhere for her to hide, but the old vixen stood behind them with a big grin on her face.  Deirdre took them each by the shoulder and pushed them away from the wall.
	“I thought I was being clever.  I almost captured this city once, you know.  They probably don’t teach you much about that kind of thing in Oseille, do they?  I thought it probably wouldn’t look good to get caught by your own trick, but I suppose I don’t have to worry about that here, anymore,” said Deirdre.  Her smile faded, and for a moment, she looked older than her years.
	“What have you done now?” asked Fiachra.
	“All the wrong things, as it turns out.  But I’m going to fix it now, if I can,” said Deirdre.
	“You had your chance.  We don’t need you anymore,” said Fiachra.
	“Yes we do.  She can get us in and she knows her way around.  How long do you think it would take us to find Ciara by ourselves?” she said.
	“You wouldn’t,” said Deirdre.
	She unbuttoned the dark blue uniform coat she was wearing and dropped it on the ground.  The jacket was torn and muddy and now Niamh could see that all of the badges and rank insignia had been torn off of it.  Underneath, all Deirdre had on was a ripped grey shirt.  The bottom half of the shirt had been hacked off and wrapped around Deirdre's left arm as a bandage.  It was stained with dried blood and had stuck to the wound.
	“The city is a maze.  I doubt that even Sabia knows her way around all of it and it keeps changing.  They open up new streets and block others off and that’s not the worst of it,” said Deirdre.
	“How much trouble are you in?” asked Niamh.
	“You worry about Ciara.  Get her somewhere safe and let me handle everything else,” said Deirdre.
	“Ciara still needs you.  She won’t let us take her anywhere unless she knows you’re okay,” said Niamh.
	Deirdre unlaced her boots and flung them away.  She followed them with her belt and scabbard but she kept her sword.  Niamh shivered when Deirdre ran her thumb along the edge of the blade.
	“What do you think you're doing?” said Fiachra.
	“I'm retiring,” said Deirdre.
	Half naked and covered in spatters of her own dried blood, Deirdre was the most frightening thing Niamh had ever seen.
	“We have a phrase at home: Fox-mad.  It means someone who’s too stupid to know when they’ve lost.  I never really understood it, until I met you,” said Niamh.
	Fiachra grabbed Deirdre’s free arm and jerked her around to face him.  She flattened her ears and pulled back but he dug his claws in and held on.
	“We’ll do what you want, but not for free.  I can’t imagine why Ciara still loves you but she does and I’m not going to let you abandon her again,” he said.
	“We’ll see,” said Deirdre.
	She tore her arm out of Fiachra's grip.  His claws raked fine lines of blood down her wrist, but he was the one who jumped back like he'd been stung.
	Deirdre marched up to the city with her sword raised.  Niamh followed at a distance, afraid that Deirdre would begin whatever strange assault she had in mind right there.  Deirdre stopped right in front of the gates and, without lowering her sword, knocked politely on a hatch set in the wood.  When the little door opened Niamh could just make out the shape of the lynx on the other side, looking out at them.  The opening was protected by a grill of iron bars, but the lynx still jumped when Deirdre slapped the peephole with her sword.
	“I don’t have time for stupid questions.  Too many lives are at stake here and I need you to let me in now,” she said.
	“What about the rabbits?” said the guard.
	“They’re with me.  Of course they’re coming in,” said Deirdre.
	“But they’re rabbits.  I can’t let them in without permission.  They could do anything,” he said.
	“You have my permission, you don’t need anyone else’s.  There isn’t any time for this,” said Deirdre.
	When the hatch slapped closed Deirdre screamed and hammered on the grill with the hilt of her sword.  The noise hurt Niamh’s ears and it made Embarr jerk his head up and snort.  The black stallion, forgotten about until now, pushed his muzzle into the crook of Niamh's arm.  She scratched his cheek to comfort him and he grabbed her sleeve in his teeth and tugged, turning his head toward the road.
	“That worked well, didn’t it?  So much for asking a fox for help,” said Fiachra.
	“She tried.  Maybe we can get in some other way.  Something that doesn't involve our standing in full view of all those archers above us,” said Niamh.
	Deirdre bristled, but said nothing.
	The hatch opened again and a second lynx peered out at them.  He looked older than the first one and was missing an eye.
	“I’ll have to report this,” he said.
	“Nobody's stopping you,” said Deirdre.
	“Our Lady isn't going to be happy about it.  You know how she is,” he said.
	“That's not all she's not going to like.  Open the door,” said Deirdre.
	A series of rapid metallic clicks sounded from behind the gate and a narrow door swung open on the left side.  Deirdre flattened herself against the right side of the gate, and pushed the door wide with the blade of her sword.  Niamh looked, but she couldn’t see anything more dangerous on the other side than a shop front.  Deirdre took a long breath and held it.  Then she ran through the door with her sword held in front of her.  Niamh started to follow but Fiachra stopped her.
	“I think she needs a minute to herself,” he said.
	“But what if she really is in trouble?” asked Niamh.
	“What could you do?  She knows how to take care of herself.  Tie up the horses and then we can go in after her,” he said.
	Niamh felt certain that both horses would be better off left loose.  Embarr could take care of himself and he would defend the gelding if they got in trouble.  To make Fiachra feel better she took off her belt and tied it in a loose hobble around Embarr’s forelegs.  He whinnied and snapped at her, but only bit her shirt.  This worried her.  She knew Embarr would never hurt her, if only because she belonged to Ciara, but she had never seen him submit to being hobbled before.  She scratched his ears and worried that he had been pushed too hard.
	The door that had been opened in the gate was so narrow only one person could go through at a time and so low that Niamh had to duck to go through.  She tried not to think about what might happen once she was in the city.  If Deirdre was worried about what might happen to her there was no telling what the lynxes might do to a couple of rabbits they didn’t know.  All that kept her moving was that she was even more afraid of what they might do to Ciara.  If Sabia had hurt her the old cat would find that the war had suddenly gotten a lot more personal.
	The street on the other side of the gate was empty and there was no sign of the lynxes or of Deirdre.  A patch of fading sunlight lit the crumbling buildings on the other side of the street and made them look almost friendly.  This was enough to entice Niamh to leave the dank shadow under the wall so she could warm herself a bit, before it faded.
	“I think I see where Ciara gets it.  That vixen is out of her mind,” said Fiachra.
	He kept his back to the wall and peered down the street, his ears swiveling to catch every sound.
	“Be fair.  She’s scared and I don't think she knows any other way to behave.  Besides, you know Ciara would be upset if she heard you say that,” said Niamh.
	“She might agree with me, too.  She doesn’t need someone like that in her life,” said Fiachra.
	“This, after you were shouting at Deirdre not to abandon her?”
	“Because it's what Ciara wants.”
	The sun faded, and dim lights came on in several of the buildings around them, but the lynxes stayed hidden.  There was a small bar across the street, which reminded Niamh of how hungry she was, but she knew it would be full of strange predators, and it wasn’t wise to assume that they would all be like the ones who came to Oseille.
	“It looks like we’re going to have to do this on our own after all,” she said.
	“We aren’t in any worse shape than we were before Deirdre showed up.  We’ll find her,” said Fiachra.
	“If we’re lucky,” said Niamh.
	The whole city looked like it was made up of little paths and alleyways and none of them looked very promising.  Still, at this point a guess couldn't do any harm.  The path that ran along beside the city wall was broader than most of the others and it led away from the bar.  Better yet it was lit by small torches set at five foot intervals.
	They had only gone a little way when Fiachra grabbed her and shoved her against the wall.  She squeaked in protest but he put a hand over her mouth and pointed into the dark.  A lynx ran out of a narrow alley between two houses and rushed at them.  Niamh froze and watched as he came right at her.  He hadn’t drawn his sword but he wouldn’t need it.
	Deirdre flew out of the alley a few steps behind the lynx.  She still had her sword, but she was holding it so the blade pointed up and Niamh guessed that she meant to grab her prey instead.  The lynx veered off just in front of them and ran down the road that Niamh had been planning to use.  This dispelled some of her panic and she darted out in front of Deirdre, who ran into her without slowing down.  Deirdre dropped her sword and threw her arms around Niamh as they fell, and she twisted so that Niamh landed on top of her.  Deirdre struggled to get up right away but Niamh pushed down hard on her arms to keep her pinned.  Fiachra and the lynx had ended up flat against the wall and it was difficult to tell if Fiachra was holding him down or shielding him from Deirdre.
	“Whatever it is you think you’re doing, it has to wait.  You need to help us find Ciara first,”said Niamh
	“He got away.  Ten years ago I would have caught them both  You keep that one still and don’t let him go, no matter what,” said Deirdre.
	“We weren’t doing anything wrong.  We're supposed to be careful.  You look bright, for rabbits, you tell her she’s wrong,” said the lynx.
	He tried to sit up but Fiachra shoved him back so hard his head bounced against the wall.
	Niamh let Deirdre up but she took the sword, and she was rather shamefully pleased when the lynx shrank away from her.  He was bigger than her and they were only safe as long as he didn't they wouldn't really hurt him.
	“I don’t know that she is wrong.  But I don’t want her to hurt anyone, either, so that’s lucky for you,” said Niamh.
	“You tried to stall me at the gate.  And you ran.  Sabia has put you up to something, hasn’t she?” said Deirdre.
	“Of course I ran.  You had your sword out,” said the lynx.
	“That’s just an excuse,” said Deirdre.
	Deirdre shoved Fiachra out of the way and grabbed the lynx before he could bolt.  She twisted his arm behind his back and put her claws against his throat.
	“I want to see Alana.  I know she’s still here because I ordered her not to leave and you know where she is, don’t you?” she said.
	Fiachra grabbed Deirdre’s arm, which got him elbowed in the chest, but he picked himself up and tugged at her again.
	“Leave him alone, you can look for your friend later,” he said.
	“Alana will know where Ciara is, if we can find her,” said Deidre, and she twisted her captive’s arm to make him squirm.  “The bitch had better.”