He seeks to make us believe that he cannot understand, and calls for an “interpreter,” thought Elyn, yet I deem that they are some of Andrak’s spawn: brigands all. “ ’Ware, Thork,” she murmured, cocking a significant eye, first inclining her head slightly toward Thork, then toward the Man before them. Should the need arise, that one is yours.
Thork nodded once, the merest bob, indicating that he understood her unspoken signal, and Elyn wished that he had armed his crossbow, as well as having his axe available.
The second rider came forward, his horse at a trot, and Elyn’s heart beat faster, yet by no sign did she betray her state of alertness, calmly keeping her bow down, the arrow, though strung, pointing earthward.
And as the rider came upon them, instead of slowing he cried “Kha!” and kicked his horse in the flanks, his tulwar raised, the horse leaping ahead to run them down. The leader, too, spurred forward, shouting and raising his blade.
Thunn! Elyn loosed her arrow at the onrushing rider-Ssthok! — the shaft striking him in the chest, piercing him, pitching him from the saddle.
Schlak! Thork’s axe took the leader’s horse down, the animal screaming-“Damn! Damn!” shouted Elyn, hearing the mount’s cry as she set another arrow to string-and Thork leapt after the tumbling steed, his bloody axe cleaving through the rider ere the Man could gain his feet.
Kha! Kha! Onward hurtled the remaining three, and Elyn loosed another shaft, just missing as the Man who was her target ducked and shied his horse aside, his face pale with fear, galloping from the road and away, his comrades fleeing after, none willing to face death at the hands of these twain.
Elyn whirled. There was a free-running mount, a horse on the loose. Could she but capture it, then they could ride double, or switch off.
“Put that wounded animal out of its misery, while I catch up the other,” she bade Thork, her words sharp, setting out at a jog-trot after the loose steed.
“Beware knaves, Princess Elyn, they still be about!” Thork called after her. Without looking back, she raised her bow, indicating she had heard him. And he stepped toward the head of the thrashing, grunting, downed horse, drawing his dagger as he went.
When Elyn returned, riding the slain Man’s steed, Thork was rummaging through the saddlebags of the dead horse. He had uncinched the saddle and had pulled it free, in the event that it had a better seat than the one Elyn rode. The halter, too, was free, in case she would want to swap that as well. As she rode past, Elyn averted her eyes from the throat-cut steed, for somehow the sight of it was worse than that of the axe-chopped brigand. And her mount skitted and shied, snorting at the smell of blood. Yet she held it under control, riding to the nearby wall of the mountain.
Dismounting, she looped the reins about her pack frame, reasoning that it would be enough to hold the gelding, though still it gruntled and blew, nostrils flaring, trying to rid the air of the smell of blood.
“Did you have to axe the horse?” she asked finally. I am Vanadurin, and horses are our lifeblood. .
“It was that or get run through,” he grunted.
… yet they fall in battle just as do warriors.
Now Elyn turned to the grisly tasks at hand: robbing the dead. Whatever she and Thork found-coins, weapons, armor-could be used in trade on the way back. And she retrieved her arrow from the slain Man, sickened by the thuk it made when it pulled free, for she knew not when arrows would be needed again, and every shaft counted. Too, she went looking in the morning light for the shaft that missed, to no avail, for it had been shot full force at a shallow upward angle, and exactly which direction and how far it had flown was not easily judged.
Altogether, the plunder added up to two tulwars, a dagger, a long-knife, one helm, two ring-mail leather shirts, seventeen coppers, two sets of riding gear, two blanket rolls and miscellaneous field gear, none of it of great value, two pair of saddlebags-each with field rations and each with five days’ supply of oats for the horses-and one live gelding.
Elyn sorted through the riding gear, comparing it with that on the mount, choosing the better of the twain. Damn, we might have had two steeds to ride, had Thork been able to spare the horse. And she stripped the gelding of that which she would discard, replacing it with the other. And as she did so she carefully sized up the steed as well. This horse has been too long without work, stable-bound; it will be days ere he will bear what he should, run as he should, and endure.
“Thork, we cannot lade the steed with all our gear and ride double as well,” she said as she cinched on the better of the two saddles. “We’ll trade off, one walking, one riding.”
“Did you not listen to me back at the tower?” His voice now held an edge. “I will not ride horses.”
Elyn looked keenly at the Dwarf-He cannot be afraid of horses, for he showed no fear of Wind. Yet for some reason, he will not ride one, even though there is little difference between horse and pony. But now that I hearken back, I have never seen or heard of any Dwarf ever riding a horse-then she turned away, and did not mention it again.
Except for their weaponry and armor, they loaded the gelding with all their own gear and with that which they chose to take of the dead Men’s belongings. Axe in hand, Thork stepped down the road to the curve around the bluff and looked long and intently. He saw no one on the course, or in the empty land; even the surviving brigands who had fled north were no longer in sight. And so, deeming the roadway safe, they set out southerly under leaden skies, walking, leading the laden horse on a long tether, breaking their fast with a biscuit of crue split between them.
And as they passed down the way, Thork retrieved all three of his crossbow bolts from among the ashes of Sun-slain Spawn, while Elyn took up one of the Guul spears, to be used as a lance, should the need arise. Feeling the heft and balance of the bared pole arm-Had I my own spear, I would not use this thing. Spikes get lodged. Poison is a coward’s way. Had I my own, then would I fling this one to perdition. “Let us return to the Wizard’s holt when we come to Black Mountain. Get some of the things left behind: your hammer, my spear, a good saddle, more grain for the gelding. . ”
Thork nodded his agreement, and southward they trudged, the Dwarf still favoring a leg bruised in the chariot crash.
That night they camped in the bleak grey mountains as a light snowfall fluttered down. There was no wood to make a fire, and to stay warm they huddled together ’neath both their blankets, as well as one of the two they had taken from the slain brigands; the other blanket they draped over the gelding.
And there was a hammering deep within the stone as they slept, though only the horse sensed it.
The next morning, cold and sore, aching from the battering that they had taken from the chariot spill, bruises growing, they groaned awake, wishing that they had a fire so that they could have some hot tea. And as Thork stumped back from relieving himself: “Would that I had jumped from that careening rig when I first thought of it, rather than letting the thing hurl me to the ground.”
“You thought of jumping?” Elyn was surprised.
“Aye, to lighten the load so that you could escape the hounding Khōls,” came his answer, “but I decided that they would overtake anyway, and I thought of their spears and your unprotected back and knew I would serve you better within the chariot than without.”
A stricken look came upon Elyn’s face at his answer. Adon! He would sacrifice himself for me. The thought of him doing so caused her heart to clench, yet she maintained her poise. “That you did not jump was wise, for it will take your hand to wield the Kammerling ’gainst Black Kalgalath; my knowledge of warhammers is limited to a brief training session when I was but a youngling.” She took a bite of crue and chewed thoughtfully. “And had you leapt, then the mission ’gainst Black Kalgalath would have come to nought, and our two Nations would continue to war.”