Nyori quickly stood over him, brandishing Eymunder as if she knew what she was doing. "Don't move," she said. "I don't want to hurt you."
The man rubbed his chest and looked at her with a bewildered expression that turned almost amused as he raised his hands.
"I'm not sure if you understand what just happen, but I just saved your life, milady. Put down your weapon and let's talk about this. There are more Bruallians in the area, and they can be upon us at any moment."
Nyori thrust the staff forward. "I don't care. I don't know you any more than the others. You could have killed them because you wanted me for yourself."
He paused. "True. But that isn't my intent, and quite frankly I need to be on my way." He pushed the orb away with his hand and stood up, wincing.
Nyori kept Eymunder pointed his direction as she backed away warily. "I mean it. I'll hurt you if I have to."
His eyes crinkled in amusement. "Yes, I'm sure. You appear to be quite the warrior."
Nyori felt a flush of embarrassment, lowering the staff halfway. "Enough to defeat you."
"I was off balance and not expecting to be walloped by the person I just rescued." He bent to retrieve his sword. His face had changed from when he faced the Bruallians. Sheer weariness replaced the wild light in his eyes. "Still, luck is often as good as skill when fighting. Are you hurt, milady?"
Nyori hesitated. Now that the moment had ended, it was increasingly hard to keep up her fierce act. She had no idea how to wield Eymunder as a striking weapon, and the stranger seemed to know it.
"No. They did not touch me. I have been on the run for days." She recalled their relentless pursuit. The blindness had been only temporary, and once their sight returned they had taken to her trail like rabid bloodhounds.
But in a strange turn of events, it was they who lay still in pools of their own blood. She tried to find pity for them but found pity had taken wing and flown to the horizon.
When she looked at her rescuer, she saw sympathy on his face.
"Unaccustomed eyes should not see such things, milady. My name is Marcellus. My sword is yours until I can get you somewhere safe. You have my service, and my life."
Nyori shivered as a chill rippled from her head to her toes. The harbinger. It meant that the moment was important, just as it had been when she met Rhanu and his band earlier. She blinked at Marcellus' words, not sure how to reply. She had only heard of such speech in stories, tales of chivalry, and… "Are you a knight?"
"Once." Great sadness settled into his eyes. "Why do you ask?"
"By your speech. Only knights or princes in stories say such things. Milord."
"I am no lord. Nor am I a knight any longer. I am simply Marcellus. I have not the honor of knowing your name."
"Nyori Sharlin. I am a Shama." She did not know why she revealed that. For some reason, she did not want him to think she was entirely helpless.
He almost seemed to smile, as though reading her thoughts. "Shama, I will see if those bandits had anything of value. Wait for me down the hill. This won't take long."
The wind tugged her tattered dress as she made her way down the sandy hill, trying to decide whether to wait or run. The choices of being lost and alone or in the company of a strange killer were equally unpleasant.
The red morning sky appeared menacing; unseen threats seemed to lurk behind every little hill or tower of rock. More Bruallians could be anywhere, and she would be in the same situation.
A lot of help Eymunder turned out to be. She could not recall the words she used to blind the Bruallians. Once she uttered them, they completely vanished from her mind. The same with her command she used to open the door in Asfrior. She wondered if that was the reason the Tome of Apokrypy was so important. It seemed to be the nature of the Craft to recommit the words to memory after uttering them. Which made recovering the Tome vital. How she would accomplish that was something she dared not contemplate at the moment.
Marcellus stumbled down the hill, still limping. He bore a bow and quiver on his back, an array of daggers, and some small pouches and bundles. The sword was sheathed at his side.
"It is discourteous to rob the dead," Nyori said. The Sha believed in great respect for the deceased. That Marcellus would so casually strip the men of their belongings seemed almost obscene.
"I doubt they'll need these anymore," he said. "I would have taken the clothes too, but they appear as bad as mine, and smelled even worse." His keen eyes regarded her. "They pursued you for that…staff?"
"It's mine." She flushed at his amused smile.
"As you say, milady. It looks very valuable."
"It was given to me by someone very important."
He surveyed their surroundings. "And then you got lost in the wildest, most dangerous mountains."
Her face reddened again. "No, I was separated from my companions. I am from…" She trailed off, remembering that she didn't know anything about the man. "Wait, you're lost in the same mountains, so why are you alone out here?"
Marcellus smiled as he shouldered the satchels. "It's all right, Shama. Your business is your own. As is mine." He walked to the top of the next hill and scanned the terrain.
Nyori considered the man. She recalled the ferocity in which he slew the Bruallians; the swift, graceful movements that resulted in sudden death. She had never seen a man killed before. Not before Ironhide. And in the space of a few moments, she had seen two more.
"They didn't have much in the way of food," he said as she joined him on the hilltop. "Just some dried meat and beans, a little rind of cheese." He opened a satchel and handed her some strips of peppered beef. "Eat."
Nyori's stomach rumbled, but she hesitated at the offer.
Marcellus laughed. "I didn't take the time to find something to poison it with, Shama." He ripped a sliver off and bit into it, still smiling.
She snatched the meat and bit into it. It was stringy, tough, and seasoned with far too much pepper. It was the best meal she ever tasted. She almost bit her fingers in her haste to devour the meager fare.
Afterward, he took a waterskin and let her take a few sips of the precious liquid.
She paused. "Will you not eat?"
"No. It is too early."
He certainly looked as though he needed nourishment. Nyori shook her head at his foolhardiness. "You must. You look weak, like you can barely stand."
She considered healing him. He looked as though he had traveled the mountain passes mainly by falling headlong down them. But should she need to escape from him, it would be better if he were weakened. She was shocked by the thought, but she had learned much about survival in the last few harrowing days.
"I'll eat when I need to, Shama. Right now, I do not." Marcellus turned his attention to the horizon. "Now tell me, how far is the nearest pass?"
She shook her head. "I do not know. I…we had to leave our chosen path."
His eyes narrowed. "What happened to your companions?"
She chose her words carefully. "We were attacked by bandits of some sort. Raiders. They had Dhamphir at their command."
"Dhamphir?"
"Bestial winged creatures large as a man. My guardians were…they were slain." She felt her shoulders tremble as she thought of Ironhide and Nando again. But she choked down her tears, determined not to appear weak in the eyes of her mysterious rescuer.
Marcellus' hand went to his sword hilt as he scanned the sky. He seemed oddly unafraid of the mention of Dhamphir. She wondered what kind of a man took news like that as if it were everyday happenstance.
"Then we had better move." He rubbed the half-healed cut on his cheek. "Men will be hunting for me as well. But you must decide if you will trust me or not, Nyori. You have my word that I will not take advantage of you or cause you harm."