Eddis spurred up the road, drawing her sword. She and M’Baddah veered around the huddle of priests. Feather leaped again, nearly unseating Eddis as the boulder shattered on the road just behind them. M’Whan had already turned partway around in the saddle, a word steadying his well-trained horse as he drew his bow down on the man high on the ledge. M’Baddah and Eddis rode straight for the axeman, who stared blankly at his fallen companion.
She sliced at his head as she rode past, and he winced back from her—into M’Baddah’s wickedly sharp, curved sword.
It took her a moment to get Feather under control and turned. The crossbow wielder lay still, and M’Baddah was dismounting rather stiffly to retrieve his sword from the dying axeman. Up on the rocks, the brute clutched his shoulder, where one of M’Whan’s yellow-fletched arrows wobbled between his fingers, a dagger’s worth of the shaft in his arm. He turned and staggered out of sight.
Eddis rode down to where the clients still huddled against the cliff “It’s all right, you’re safe and so is your bundle. Let’s go, now.”
The novice clutched his saddlebow and closed his eyes. He looked sick. The priest merely nodded and tugged at the youth’s reins to get all three animals moving. She let them pass, caught up to M’Baddah and his son. M’Whan was off his horse staring at his father.
“Father, you’re wounded!” When he reached out, M’Baddah pushed his hands aside.
“It is nothing much, my son. Leave it. You can tend it for me once we reach the Keep walls and the inn.”
It was Eddis’ turn to stare. A trickle of blood ran down M’Baddah’s leg. He held a short, pale quarrel in one hand, but the tip and a finger’s worth of shaft were dark with his blood. “You broke the man’s aim. What might have been painful is merely a scrape.” Before M’Whan could protest further, the older man mounted. “Let us get these priests safely inside the gates.”
“These men—” M’Whan began. He sounded dazed, and his face was white.
Eddis shook her head. “Leave the bodies. Your father is right. The priests are our concern now.” And your father, she thought.
The younger man pulled himself together, nodded, remounted, and dropped back to take rearguard behind the priest, his novice, and the packhorse.
Fortunately, the last of the steep part was nearly behind them. The next loop of road seemed to jut over open air before turning back along the cliff face, and from that point on, the way was fairly easy. M’Baddah, despite his wound, set a quick pace, and now Eddis could see the thick, featureless south wall and the first glimpse of turrets. After another turn, more of the walls, and finally she could make out movement up there: guards and others, perhaps.
After that final climb, the road snaked east along the black stone ledge, hugging the walls before making the final plunge to the main gate. Now she could see men in polished helms gazing over the walls, and the glinting points of their tall pikes. The drawbridge spanning the dry gully was down and the portcullis up, but the heavy gates were closed. She was aware of men watching from the high, square towers, ready to launch an attack if need be. From here, she couldn’t see the ballistae and catapults.
It was always daunting, riding up to this gate. M’Baddah, aware how she felt, laid a hand on her shoulder. He looked pale, and his lips were set in a tight line, but as she worriedly touched his shoulder, he managed a smile.
“We are safe. They know us, my Eddis.”
“I know. It’s just that…”
She let that go and took the lead, pulling the cap from her very recognizable hair as she dismounted at the gate. It was quiet, suddenly, leaving her all too aware of the narrow slits and round openings in the walls.
One gate opened as she stepped forward, enough to let out two men armed with pikes. One came a pace closer, smiling as he recognized her. She managed a smile in reply.
“Eddis of Caffer, and my men,” she said. “You know M’Baddah and his son, M’Whan. We’ve brought the priest Xyneg and his novice to meet with your curate. But first—we were attacked just now, on the Keep road.”
At a gesture from the near guard, the one just behind him turned and strode back into shadow. He returned a moment later with a tall officer, who listened as she quickly explained.
“Get four bowmen out here at once, mounted,” he told the guard. “I’ll go with them. Eddis,” he added, “we’ll talk of this later. Go freely inside, settle your clients and your horses and goods, get yourselves lodging and a meal. You’re known here.”
“Thank you,” she replied. “Known” meant they were trusted—not kept in the barracks and watched until they were deemed safe, which was almost as good as known. “We three will be at the inn. The clients are to be guests of the curate and are expected.”
The officer nodded as he and his fellows mounted and rode out.
Eddis felt suddenly very tired indeed. The pikeman smiled at her. “As the captain says, ma’am—”
“That’s Eddis. Ma’am is my mother.”
“Eddis.” The smile became a grin. “You’re known here, Eddis. Captain’ll find you when he needs you. I’ll get someone to escort the priests to the chapel.”
Eddis shook her head. “Thank you, but it’s a contract. We’ll manage.” She made certain to shove her cloak behind her shoulders as the gate opened. Let the guard see I’m armed but that the weapons are properly stowed, she thought.
An hour later, washed and clad in fresh cloth breeches and tunic from her saddlebags, pale, damp hair trailing down her back, Eddis sat cross-legged on a narrow cot in one of the inn’s few private rooms, counting out stacks of coins on three squares of soft brown suede. Six extra silver to share out this time. Nice of that priest to add it. Still, we did deliver them safe, even after the surprise practically at the gates. Two extra silver went to M’Baddah as her lieutenant; one for his son, as apprentice. Still better coin than a two-season youth could expect in most companies. All in all, very good money, this trip. She folded the sides of the leather around the coins and set the packets on the low chest that held her personal things. Aside from the chest and the bed, there was no other furniture—wasn’t room for anything else, except the small wooden tub they’d brought in for her bath and taken away once she was done.
M’Baddah and M’Whan stayed close by, in the large common room. Eddis stretched hard and leaned forward to squeeze water from her hair onto the stone floor. Now and again she stayed in the common room herself, but the chance of a bath and clean hair had been too much to resist.
“Getting soft in your old age, Eddis,” she mumbled. “A room all to yourself with a bar for the door, and a real window.” True, the window wasn’t much more than a narrow slit—deliberately made too narrow for anyone to climb through, though only a madman would try something that lawless inside the Keep—unlike some places she’d stayed.
She dismissed that, gazed around the tiny room with real pleasure. Everything about it was plain, strictly functional, but neat and very clean It was much nicer than what she’d had as a girl—a corner of the main room, near the hearth, and a damp straw mattress to share with three sisters.
All the rest of her siblings—the ones who’d survived childhood—still lived in that village. Most of them, especially her older sisters, had thought her an odd child for actually enjoying the bow lessons all the village children had to take. Even the villages near the heart of the realm weren’t always safe from human predators or other, worse things, but many boys and most of the girls found ways to avoid the demanding work. Not Eddis. She had shown a talent for the bow, and later for the spear, and eventually had been allowed to join the village hunters—mostly older men like her uncles.