But where were the keep guards?
Chane felt that same tiny emptiness in his gut.
The beast within him lunged to the end of its bonds as he stalled longer in staring at Karl Beáumie. What he felt now was impossible. His senses told him the duke was a living man; he could smell this. Even if he had still worn the ring of nothing, he would have sensed an undead this close, if not sooner. Then he spotted the ruddy thôrhk—an orb key—around the duke’s neck.
“Step away from that trunk, both of you!” he rasped.
Instead the duke thrust both hands outward as his mouth began to work without a sound.
Nothing learned so far suggested the man had arcane skills. Then those silent utterances became whispers.
“Osha!” Chane rasped as loudly as he could. “His hand!”
Osha reached over his shoulder as Chane charged and felt for an arrow without a thread ridge above its feathers—one without a white metal tip. He pulled and fit it to the bowstring in one movement as he shifted laterally from tree to tree for a better line of sight. And he listened for any sound in the forest.
Too few guards of any kind were in sight, compared to the reported number that had left with the duke. One Suman stood over the trunk while another partially hid behind one of the saddled horses, but Osha saw not a single keep guard. Suddenly the Suman that he had hit with the first arrow came back into view—from a position crouched behind the upturned wagon—and this one reached for his sword.
Osha’s next arrow hit the thigh of the man’s same leg.
The Suman screamed out as he collapsed.
Hoping this might keep the other one near the trunk where he was, Osha drew another normal-tipped arrow as he shifted again.
He heard steel clash against steel just once and, when his sight line cleared again, he spotted Chane through the trees. Too much had changed in that instant, and a headless Suman lay on the ground.
Duke Beáumie faced away from Osha, and his empty hands were outstretched toward Chane, perhaps in fear and trying to hold off the undead.
Osha took aim at the armed Suman standing over the trunk.
“Osha!” Chane rasped. “His hand!”
Osha hesitated, quickly checking everything. Did that mean the duke or the Suman guard?
Then the duke’s head turned.
It took an instant before his gaze fixed. There was intent—not fear—in his eyes, and he twisted around with his hands outstretched toward Osha.
Osha’s aim shifted as the air between the duke’s hands began to warp. Before he could loose the arrow, fire erupted at the duke’s feet and then raced out through the trees straight at Osha.
Osha held his place as he released the bowstring.
Sau’ilahk spotted the elven archer out between the trees and immediately turned his conjuration on that new target. Flames erupted at his feet and raced into the forest.
His right hand lurched violently aside, and he cried out in sudden pain.
Shock chilled him at the sight of an arrow’s shaft through his malformed hand ... and then he heard Chane coming.
Whirling back the other way, he saw his last able guard attempt to engage Chane ... and actually block Chane’s first swing. The fight would likely last only a few moments at best.
Sau’ilahk reflexively reached for the duke’s sword on his hip, but he possessed no skill with such a weapon, and his hand was wounded, still impaled with an arrow. He was injured and outnumbered, and his body was not yet immortal. He doubted he could lift or drag the trunk with only his left hand.
The key he had once used to find an orb was still around his neck. He could use it again if need be.
With a hard swing, Chane sliced through the guard’s chest, and the man went down.
Sau’ilahk ran into the forest.
The instant the arrow left the bow, Osha threw himself aside. In his roll, he heard low branches and fallen leaves crackling as a heat struck his back. He came to his feet, still scrambling away before he turned.
All that was left of the racing line of fire were sizzling sounds, smoke, and bushes burning here and there. His first instinct as an’Cróan was to stomp out every last flame before the forest caught fire. Instead he drew another arrow and looked back along the fire’s path.
He spotted neither the duke nor Chane nor anyone through the smoke-hazed darkness.
Shock vanished at how the duke, a mere man, could send fire out of nothing into trees.
Osha fitted another normal steel-tipped arrow to his bow’s string and held it in place with the first finger of his bow hand as he ran for the road by the shortest route.
“Chane!” he shouted.
As he broke through onto the roadside a dozen paces west of the wagon, he did not have a chance to look for the undead.
The black majay-hì—and then Wynn—burst out of the forest on the road’s south side at a run. Osha veered toward them and then skidded to a stop as Captain Martelle came out on their heels.
Another guard came right behind the captain, and both men had swords in hand.
Wynn ran on for the overturned wagon, but Shade wheeled when she reached the road’s center.
Osha would never let anyone harm Wynn, or a majay-hì, but he hesitated at shooting men who were deceived in their duty.
He aimed and fired in front of the captain.
When the arrow struck the road, the captain stumbled in trying to halt, and the guard following behind collided into him. Both lost their balance and struggled to keep their feet.
Osha had already fitted another arrow and drawn it back, but he would not fire unless he had to. As he was about to warn them off, a swirl of dust passed him and rushed down the road.
A shape took form within it, and Osha stalled longer.
Dust in the darkness faded and a slender, cloaked figure clubbed the keep guard at a run. The guard collapsed as the figure halted two steps beyond him and turned.
Osha barely made out a mask obscuring the face within the cloak’s hood, but he did not mistake it for Chane.
Aupsha lunged before the captain could spin around—or Osha could take a clean shot.
She clubbed the captain with the heavy, dirt-coated branch in her hand. The blow struck the side of his head, and he went down and still in a blink. Shouts rose in the trees beyond the road’s far side.
Expecting more guards, Osha glanced away in less than a blink, and when he looked back ...
Aupsha was gone.
He had no more time to ponder the way the masked woman had appeared. He ran for where Wynn had likely run behind the upturned wagon.
Wynn never slowed, knowing Shade would harry the guards long enough. She rounded the downed horses and ran behind the upturned wagon. Most of the flames from a fallen lantern were dying out, but ...
A headless body in a yellow tabard stalled her. Another body in yellow lay not far beyond the first.
Chane stood between one Suman still alive on the ground and a trunk toppled on its side. The Suman leaned up against the wagon’s vertical bed just beyond another dead guard pinned under the wagon. He cowered away from the point of Chane’s longsword. A black-feathered arrow protruded from his thigh ... and another from his haunch.
Chane’s head turned, and he pulled his glasses down upon spotting her. Only his eyes showed a little through the holes in his leather mask. She heard someone coming behind her and turned, ready to flash the staff’s crystal.