“Eddis!” he yelled, but her sword had already cut through the pole, and her backswing slashed a long cut across the attacker’s forehead. Blinded by his own blood, he staggered back. Eddis strode forward and lunged, her point catching him high in the arm before she brought the blade around two-handed. He folded in half and fell at her feet. Before the man behind him could reach her, Eddis was back at Jerdren’s side, sword between her knees and the bow in her hands. The string twanged sharply, and the man fell, her arrow through his throat.
“Look out!” Blorys shouted.
Jerdren came halfway around to his right, sword coming down as his dagger came up. The ragged swordsman parried his big blade, and the dagger bounced off a small buckler. Blorys slashed at the man and missed as the bandit brought his sword up and around in a blurring movement. Jerdren ducked, but too late. The blade sliced through his left eyebrow and into his hairline. Blood blinded him. He cursed furiously and brought the dagger up—by luck and guess burying it in the robber’s belly. The man gasped and went down, taking the blade with him. Jerdren went to one knee long enough to snatch up the dying man’s long sword.
Behind him, Blorys shouted, “All right?”
“Fine!” Jerdren said. Blood ran down his face still, but by tilting his head, he had one eye clear.
“Spearmen!” Eddis yelled a warning from his left and tugged at his sleeve. He backed up with her as three men running shoulder to shoulder threw themselves at the path. All carried long boar spears.
“Room!” he yelled back.
Eddis moved away and launched an arrow at the nearest spearman. The man swung his spear wildly, possibly hoping to deflect it. The point sank deep in his eye, spinning him around and dropping him, dead before he hit the ground. Jerdren turned aside as the other two charged at him, let their momentum carry them on, then leaped back to slash at unprotected necks and heads. One man wailed and staggered off into the trees where two of the Keep men put him down for good. The other whirled back around, panic in his eyes as he looked at Jerdren, who was grinning like a madman, his eyes wild and blood running down the side of his face. The man screamed in terror, threw his boar spear aside, and sped on down the trail.
And there’s our man to spread the tale, Jerdren thought. That’s enough, I think. He spun back, blades at the ready, but for some moments, no one else came their way. He blotted the cut on his forehead and wiped his eyes clear. Off to his right, three of the Keep men had several bandits huddled on the ground.
Over between the two fires, Mead and M’Baddah confronted the squat man who’d come from the tent. Captain, that’ll be, Jerdren thought. Another spate of fighting over near the ledge, and half a dozen men just beyond the canvas shelter seemed to be readying some plan of attack. Three men running toward the path were stopped by Blor and whoever was off to his right.
Eddis tugged at his sleeve. “You’re cut! How can you see anything?”
“Still got one eye clear,” he yelled back.
“You’re supposed to be keeping an eye on things, overseeing! Like me!” She pulled a rag from her belt. “Hold still! And hold this for me!” She shoved her sword at him, roughly bound the cloth around his brow. He winced and swore as she took back her blade.
“Hurts worse than the cut did, woman!”
“So? You can see properly, can’t you?”
Blorys was coming back, and all at once Jerdren could see Willow and M’Whan, heading into the firelight with five men, two of them limping badly, the other three bound and tied together. There was still some fighting beyond the fire pits, but as he watched, the last of the bandits dropped his boar spear and went to his knees.
“Where’d the leader go?” Jerdren demanded. “Eddis, if you cost us that man, wrapping my head up—!”
“Give it over, Brother,” Blorys broke in. “He’s there, Mead has him bespelled, I think. Got him before he could rally ’em.”
“Oh? Oh. Good.” Jerdren rubbed his forehead, dislodging the bandage.
Blorys tugged it back down into place. “You’re a gory enough sight. Leave it be.” He looked around. “Anyone get past you?”
“One here,” Jerdren said. “On purpose. Other than him—don’t think so.”
“Not here,” M’Baddah said. “Two of ours wounded up here, one badly.”
“Get them into the firelight,” Eddis said. She looked across the clearing as Mead came into the open. “Mead! All clear your way?”
“All clear!”
“Good!” Jerdren called back. “Let’s get this mess cleaned up!”
It took time, building the fires back up, searching out the bodies and the wounded. Their own wounds were mostly minor, though the man M’Baddah tended had suffered a deep cut the length of his forearm.
Ten of the bandits lay dead, another twelve wounded. Several had been taken prisoner without any fight at all, Mead’s spell and the suddenness of the attack having startled them so badly. Their captain was still under Mead’s hold spell and now heavily bound as well. His brother had been badly wounded and was barely conscious. Three men, so far as they could tell, had escaped, and two at least had been unarmed when they fled.
Eddis was moving around the fire, sword still in one hand, checking the knots on the bound men, seeing that their own wounded were taken care of, then that the injured bandits were treated. When Jerdren would have protested, she gave him a cold stare.
“Act like a butcher, and you’re no better than they are. Didn’t you say that once? Besides, we’ll get back to the Keep with them that much faster if we aren’t transporting half-dead men. Unless you’d like to take M’Baddah’s place as executioner this time around?”
She turned away before her co-captain could think of anything to say.
Mead, Willow, M’Whan, and Blorys were walking around the camp—the mage seeking any bandits who might be in hiding, his brother searching the tent for stolen goods, while the other two worked through the men’s blankets and the canvas shelter. As Eddis moved out into the open, Mead came striding past the horse lines and beckoned her.
“There is someone hiding out there by the horses,” he said very softly. “Not a bandit, no fighter. Someone very afraid. I thought perhaps you and I… ?”
Eddis nodded and went with him.
Most of the horses had calmed down, she noticed as they came up to the picket lines, but the two nearest the west end were restless, shoving against their neighbors. She met Mead’s eyes, nodded again, and let him lead the way.
Hay was strewn along the picket lines, but at this end, the stuff was piled high as a horse’s belly. Eddis slowed well short of the stack and gazed steadily at it. Not a trick of her eyes or the firelight—the hay had moved, ever so slightly. She gestured for the mage to go on around, until they had the pile between them. At her nod, the two dove into the stack, grabbing for whatever lay beneath.
A high-pitched yell of fright and rage. Startled, Eddis nearly let go, but Mead had a good grip, and the swordswoman grabbed at a flailing arm, got it by the elbow, and hung on. She shook her head to clear bits of hay from her eyes as she and the mage dragged their writhing captive toward the fire. She stopped dead and stared in complete astonishment at the furious, grubby little creature they held between them.
“Gods bless me,” she said. “It’s a child!”
9
The grubby little creature twisted furiously in Eddis’ grasp and tried to bite Mead’s fingers. Greasy hair, hacked short, slapped across the swordswoman’s arms. Eddis was aware of the bandit captain trying to struggle to his feet, being shoved back down by Jerdren. The screeching child claimed her full attention once more as its teeth sank into her left wrist. She swore angrily, wrapped a hand around a knotted tuft of hair, and yanked. The child’s head slammed into her forearm, and it shrieked.