My task was simple, put that way: just reach my hand out and scoop up the coins before they stopped spinning. And somehow contrive not to have my hand cut off.
Now that was a thought.
Good. I had a thought. All I had to do was combine thought with opportunity and I'd have something else: a chance.
I tried to make contact with Morrolan, but either I didn't know him well enough or he was concentrating on his mayhem too hard, or both. Probably both. I knew Aliera even less, but it was a worth a try
And at that moment Fornia's honor guard fell back toward us as a body, struck by Morrolan's attackor, more exactly, the remnants of the Eastern cavalry that was being pushed into Fornia's honor guardand the three of us had to scramble or be trampled down.
"The plan," I told Napper, "is not to get killed."
"We could attack from behind."
"And get maybe two each at the most before they wiped us out. I don't think so."
Now, you must understand that, as we were speaking, we were also running to get away from the retreating honor guard. This left me facing the northeast, the highest part of the hill. I touched Napper's arm and said, "Look. What's that?"
He stopped in his tracks, watching another mass of humanity head toward us. "That's the hammer," he said. He gestured back over his shoulder and said, "And that's the anvil."
"Well, we had to expect him to have reinforcements handy once Morrolan started breaking through."
"That makes me feel better," said Napper.
Daymar, who had been silent this entire time, said, "I think I am perhaps no longer useful here."
"Does that mean you can teleport now?"
"Not exactly. I was thinking of a different method."
I thought of Morrolan's window and an idea began to form. I said, "Tell me about it."
He stared at me with a puzzled expression and said, "I was thinking about running."
"Oh," I said. "I hadn't thought of that."
The battle continued pressing toward us, and the approaching company looked to be light infantry.
"Do you think Morrolan will reach Fornia before the reinforcements arrive?" said Napper.
"If Fornia has his way, he will."
"Beg pardon?"
"I have to do something," I said.
"Like what?"
"Something clever."
We backed up a little farther. "Clever," said Napper, "will only get you so far."
I didn't answer, because things had gotten even louder, and that just wasn't the right moment to be philosophical. The light infantry was closing on us quickly, and on the other side Easterners were dying, and to the smells of battle that I've already refused to describe once we can add the distinctive and equally unpleasant smell of dead and dying horses.
What Napper said was reasonable, though: Fornia's plan wasn't "clever" in the usual sense; rather it was a bold, calculated gamble, like redoubling the bet when the pattern is in your opponent's favor but one perfect throw could give you the game and you're down to your last flat stone.
"Napper," I said aloud. "I think it's time to die valiantly. What do you think?"
"Yes!" he said.
"How 'bout you, Daymar? Want to join us?"
"In what?"
"We're going to attack, of course."
"Oh. Very well," he said.
"He's not armed," pointed out Napper.
"I most certainly am," said Daymar, sounding slightly offended.
Well, he wasn't carrying a blade, but I believed him.
"All right," I said. "That one, with his hair in a queue, is Ori. He is preparing a split-second teleport as part of Fornia's plan to, well, never mind. The important thing is to kill him. Killing Fornia will be harder, because he is surrounded by his honor guard, but it isn't as important either. It is Ori who has to die."
"All right," said Napper.
"Very well," said Daymar.
"Any questions?"
There were none.
"Charge," I said conversationally.
We walked forward at an even pace. I had evidently drawn a dagger at some point, and I held it in my right hand. Spell-breaker was in my left, swinging in circles. It had grown longer somehow, to almost three feet, I think, and the links were bigger; its swing covered my whole body, and Daymar on my right and Napper on my left.
Napper said, "Should we give them a yell as we go in?"
"No," I said. "We should say nothing. No more talking."
"You're going to strike them in the back, without warning?"
"Yes."
"I don't"
"You volunteered for this. We're doing it my way. If you don't like it, take off. In either case, keep quiet."
"Yes, sir," said Napper. It didn't occur to me until later to wonder if he was being ironic. Thinking about it, I don't believe he was.
Yes. Battles are decided, Sethra told me, when timing and momentum and courage all come together and, at just the right moment, someone fails to make a critical mistake and doesn't manage to miss a vital opportunity. An opportunity that, perhaps, no one quite realized was there, because it is just all too confusing to have a complete grasp of everything that is happening. I was right in the middle of it, and I still don't know enough about who was doing what to give a complete picture. But I have my incomplete picture; I have to be satisfied with that, and you will, too.
As we approached, I reached out for Daymar, who was astonishingly easy to make contact with, and I said, "What is Ori doing?"
"Which one is Ori again?"
"That one."
"Oh. I don't know what he's doing exactly. They're still blocking me. But he's concentrating on a spell of some kind."
"Doing one, or preparing to do it?"
"Oh, he's preparing to do it. He'swhat's the word? Poised. Yes, that's the word. He's poised to do a spell."
We hadn't stopped walking forward, and by this time we were ten feet behind the sorcerers, who were just behind Fornia and his honor guard. Ori was facing away from me.
I walked up and stuck my knife squarely into his back.
He screamed, and everyone turned around and looked at me as Ori spasmed and dropped to his knees. I couldn't see the expression on Ori's face, but I wasn't terribly interested in it, either. Fornia, however, stared at me wide-eyed.
"I hope," I said, "I haven't interfered with your plans."
"Kill him," said Fornia. "Kill all three of them."
And likely they would have, too; except that, at that moment, Morrolan broke through the final line of Eastern cavalry, and, amid the cries of people and horses, they charged Fornia's honor guard.
Fornia was thrust back toward me, which might have made it an excellent chance to kill him but I couldn't because I had to get out of the way of the large, very plain, unadorned Morganti greatsword he was swinging at my head. I did so, falling to the ground and rolling. I continued to roll away, not knowing exactly where Fornia and the Morganti blade were, and making the calm, rational decision that I needed to get away from them both, and besides, it was all I could do in the midst of my panic.
"Boss! Boss! You can stand up now!"
It's always embarrassing to panic in front of Loiosh. I stood up, and for just an instant, no one was around me and nothing horrible was happening in my immediate vicinity.
Then I spotted Fornia, about twenty feet away. He held both hands on the hilt of the sword, holding it at about waist height. Napper, his back to me, stood facing Fornia. Neither of them moved. It took me a second to realize that I could see a few inches of the point of the Morganti greatsword sticking out of Napper's back.
Napper dropped his sword, which fell, point first, very slowly, then stuck in the ground and swayed back and forth, also slowly. Nothing else moved in the entire world; Fornia and Napper were like twin sculptures, and would hold that pose until the world dissolved into the dreamstuff of the Gods, as my people say it will someday. But even then, the essence of Napper would never come back, and the shadowy remembrances of him in the minds of people like me, his comrades, would be all that would ever again exist of him.