A mage cast a spell at them, but Troy countered it.

And then the brigands were too close for spell casting or arrows.

Rill backed into the space between the piles, dropping his longbow and drawing his sword with one hand and his dagger with the other.

Troy’s shout sounded behind him. “Here they come, Freya!

Yells and the clanging of steel on steel rose from beyond the charging brigands as Kate, Yall, Jade, and Magnus desperately fought a huge pack of bandits.

Rill didn’t hold out much hope for them, or for Troy, Freya, and himself. But an unexpected peace settled over him. As long as Alyse and Livia made it to safety, his death would be a small price to pay for keeping them alive.

And then Rill’s inner peace shattered when the outlaws arrived and surrounded the woodpiles.

A woman thrust a spear at him.

Rill banged it away with the flat of his blade, then thrust his sword into her belly.

Another brigand pressed in, stepping on the dead woman’s chest.

Rill cut him down too.

An angry voice rose above the shouts and clangs of steel on steel. “Alive! I want them all alive!”

The remaining bandits backed away from the entrance. Some disappeared, but many stood at either opening, weapons in hand, making it impossible for Rill, Troy, and Freya to escape.

Rill exchanged puzzled looks with Troy and Freya.

Suddenly wood from the split kindling pile toppled into the passageway. Rill jumped backward, mumbling a profanity. The brigands were shoving the kindling into the opening between the two piles. This was something Rill hadn’t anticipated. He traded anxious looks with Troy and Freya. “We gotta get outta here!”

More split logs landed between Troy and Freya. Troy slashed at an exposed arm. The blade cut all the way through. The victim screamed, “We’re hemmed in.”

More and more firewood came tumbling down while Rill slashed at exposed hands and arms that were shoving the kindling.

“Push from the middle!” a voice cried. “We’ll bury ’em under the wood.”

“Idiot!” another voice shouted. “Didn’t ya hear Palquo say he wants ’em alive? Push from the top and flush ’em out.”

Rill stepped back as several pieces of firewood fell on the spot he’d been occupying. He traded desperate looks with Troy and Freya. “We gotta make a run for it!”

Troy stepped back from a hail of kindling, almost tripping on wood scattered behind him. “How? We’re trapped in here.”

“We ain’t got no choice.”

“Running is suicide.”

“So is stayin’.”

Just then a voice said, “Are you sure he said we can do it?”

“Yeah,” another voice responded. “Palquo said he doesn’t care now if they’re half dead. He’ll still get his revenge.”

Hoots and hollers followed the words.

“Now,” the voice yelled, “all together . . . heave!”

Horror overwhelmed Rill. It was too late to run. And he was going to die.

Wood all along the pile began toppling over.