It began with barely a whisper – a trail of smoke unfurling across the sky, rising from outside the walls of the city, where they now stood.
Alassien broke off her conversation with Belfaer to point, wondering aloud, “What's that?” Maltariel leaned across Orien to see, looking in confusion at the smoke, a cold finger of dread uncoiling inside her.
Almost as if summoned by the thought, bands of messengers were pushing their way through the crowds, making their way to where the king stood, far away from their small group. Maltariel watched in horror as the riders forced out their message. It seemed as though the whole city held its breath, peering out into the darkness beyond the walls, where the slow glow of spreading fire could finally be seen. A lone scream echoed into the pause, and suddenly all was movement. The King spoke to those surrounding him, arms outstretched, demanding their courage, and then was gone, many of those around him turning to find their own Houses and companies.
“An attack!” Belfaer exclaimed in horror, one arm wrapped protectively around Orien. “We are betrayed! How can this be possible?”
Maltariel shook her head, giving the advancing threat one last assessing look before turning to her friends. “I have to find my parents. They will know what to do.”
Alassien hesitated, but nodded. Along with several others, Maltariel's parents had remained on duty for the entire festival, close to Lord Ecthelion, higher up in the city. Undoubtedly they would know more of what was happening.
“We will get your gear,” she announced briskly, taking charge once more. “Belfaer and Orien will come with me. Come and find us at the marketplace, as soon as you have spoken to them. You know the place?”
Maltariel nodded, the memory recalled with a bitter pang of loss. They had sat there earlier that day, sprawled across the sun-warmed walls of the fountains, weaving wreaths and garlands from blossoms, and tossing spare blooms into the playful waters.
“I will come as soon as I can,” she responded, already backing away, absent-mindedly pulling back her golden hair into an untidy braid, before she nodded to her friends and broke into a run, back up into the city.
The streets were as crowded as they had been all day, but this time instead of weaving through celebratory groups, Maltariel was forced to duck and press through crowds rushing to their homes to gather weapons or keepsakes, parents calling for their children, children wailing in fear and distress. She found her parents exactly where she'd expected to. They stood in the courtyard before their Lord's House, Lord Ecthelion himself shining among the knot of warriors, giving quick, urgent commands. Almost as soon as she saw them, her parents recognised her and broke away from the group, her mother running to hold her in her arms, before pulling back to scan her face anxiously, blue eyes looking into blue. Maltariel was startled to see tears glimmering on her mother's eyelashes, and that cold finger of dread seemed to tighten slowly. Until now she had almost not realised how serious the assault was – but at the sight of her anxious parents preparing for war, she began to understand.
“Will we stand here?” She asked, looking around at the preparations being made, “Or, no, I suppose further up in the city? Closer to the King? Alassien is fetching my things for me... I'll be ready in a moment.”
Maltariel's mother was shaking her head wordlessly, and her father drew nearer to lay a hand on her shoulder, looking at Maltariel with a serious expression that made her step back, confused.
“We don't want you staying here. Remember the way out of the city that we showed you when you were small?”
Maltariel nodded uncertainly, beginning to frown. She had assumed that she would be stationed with her parents and the rest of the sworn warriors – but perhaps she was to help protect the refugees fleeing the city, instead.
“Go and get your friends – Alassien and everyone else – and make your way as fast as you can out of the city, by that route. The faster you get away, the better.” A crash sounded from somewhere below, and her father looked up across the yard for a moment, frowning. “Hurry, now. They will already be at the walls.”
For a moment Maltariel stood stunned, still confused. “You want me to... run away?” She asked haltingly, looking from one parent to another, seeking understanding. “No! I can fight! I am a sworn member of the Fountains now – I have completed my trials! You know I can fight! I will stand beside you, as I have promised!”
Maltariel's mother smiled sadly, and reached forward to smooth her daughter's hair in a soft caress. “We know you can, Malta. We're so proud of everything you've achieved and will go on to achieve... that's why we want you to get out, now, while it's still possible.” She paused, giving her husband one of those meaningful looks that they seemed to have spent lifetimes practising, and he took over, reaching out to take both his daughter's hands in his.
“We are of the Fountain, all three of us,” Maltariel nodded in agreement, and he smiled and continued, “You know that we will stand for duty, and for our Lord, and for love of this city, until the very end - whether that end is to come today, or another day, as the King swears. However, to know that in standing here we were also buying your freedom, and your safety, my beloved daughter... that would be a gift beyond price that you gave us.”
Her mother smiled again, gently wrapping one arm around her father's waist. “You are young yet, Maltariel. You are strong, and wise, and you bring joy to those around you. And I feel that will be a gift worth preserving for the future – for you and for all your friends, who have their lives ahead of them. Will you promise to do as we ask?”
Maltariel looked from one to the other, then behind them, at the company of warriors beginning to form up around their Lord. She hadn't expected instructions of this kind – as their daughter, her path had seemed clear from her earliest moments. She would learn to fight, join them among the Guards of the Fountain, and stand in defence of the city whenever she was called to do so. To be faced now with her parents' refusal to allow her to stand in their company was somehow even more jolting than the reality of the attack. Her father glanced over his shoulder anxiously at those gathering behind them, and Maltariel found herself nodding.
“Yes. Yes, of course – I'll get the others out” She answered, expression serious. Her face crumpled for a moment, as she realised what that would mean for the two people standing before her, and her mother caught her up in another quick embrace, murmuring words of caution and love. Her father followed, holding her tight and safe for that last snatched moment, before both stood for a moment watching her make her way back on to the crowded streets. She looked back only once, to see them rejoining their company, readying themselves for battle. Readying themselves for the Fountain's greatest stand.
