A Marriage of Swords
Chapter 13: The Broken Wheel
Arrows whistled past. A clansman fell with a cry. Rykker, a mountain in motion, swept his great sword in a arc that cleared a path. They reached the ropes, began to climb as the enemy swarmed below.
Makil looked down. The fuses were mere sparks now, crawling toward the charges. But the Wheelsmen were there, trying to stamp them out, to cut them.
“Leigh, go!” he shouted, shoving her toward a rope. She climbed, swift as a squirrel. Makil followed, hand over hand, the rope swaying. Below, the cavern was a seething mass.