"Unwelcome touchy scavengers…" mused Gull. "I'm more like my namesakes than I knew."
The dancing girl laughed and hugged his arm. "You're welcome. And hardly touchy. And you're just surviving, as are we all. Look at them this way. Gulls are tough, reliable, smart, quick, and lucky. Does that suit you?"
"Does it suit you?" the woodcutter laughed, and he hugged her waist.
Gull laughed again when he gave Greensleeves the bread. The girl had only to hold out a tidbit and gulls mobbed her, flapping around her skirts, hovering to eat from her hand, even standing on her head.
"What are they called, Greenie?" hollered her brother.
"Birrrdddsss!" giggled his sister.
Throughout their sightseeing, they patiently taught Greensleeves new words, until she pointed and named things like a bright baby. Soon she strung them together: "Want candy!" "See fish!" "Me hungry!" Gull shook his head at the wonder of it, and wished his family were alive to see her mind grow.
But on their fourth night, when most of the town was abed, they got the biggest-and rudest-surprise.
With Stiggur back in camp on watch, Lily, Gull, and Greensleeves walked out together. As Lily always insisted, they passed down the middle of the street to avoid alleys and footpads.
Yet feet came pattering, rapid.
Gull whirled, dragging the women behind.
And grunted in shock.
Chad rushed him with a long club.
Before he could even shout, Gull heard a dull thud. Lily slumped against him, knocked cold by another assassin. Over his shoulder, Gull glimpsed the stolid silent Oles.
Along with outrage at the sneak attack, came questions.
What the hell was going on, that members of his own party attacked him? Who was behind it?
Then came the biggest surprise of all.
A girl's voice called, "Gull!" He whirled toward the speaker. "Greensleeves???"
CHAPTER 15
Questions paralyzed Gull.
Greensleeves had called his name? Chad and Oles wanted to kill them? Or capture them? Bells of Kormus, why?
Something whistled at his head and he ducked, shot up an arm to deflect it. Oles, swinging his club. The shock on his biceps jolted him to the spine.
Then Chad charged, club in the air.
Rather than leave his head exposed to another shot from Oles, Gull charged too. Low down.
Scooching, he ducked under two sizzling blows. Stabbing, he grabbed Chad's booted leg and hauled. Chad swore and toppled onto the woodcutter. Gull rolled sideways, yanking, to keep Chad atop and block Oles.
The two men grappled in the dust and trash of the nighttime street. Chad was strong, but no match for Gull. The woodcutter heaved, grabbed Chad's throat. The bodyguard's surprised bleat was cut off. He gulped but couldn't swallow. Without air, panic set in.
Unable to cry for help, Chad drummed his heels. From above, Gull heard Greensleeves mewling. He yelled, "Run, Greenie!"
Because he was busy. Squeezing the life from a traitor.
Chad kicked, thrashed, gurgled as his air ran out. He beat at Gull's head, but the woodcutter was too close for a solid blow. He scrabbled at Gull's face, clawed at his eyes, but Gull bit a thumb until salty blood stained his mouth.
Strangling, Chad found manic strength. Arching his back, he dragged his short sword from its sheath. He swiped -as Gull tossed him away and bounded to his feet.
Wheezing, Chad clutched his throat, but remembered his danger. On all fours, he tried to raise the sword -and Gull hit him like an avalanche.
Kicking with wooden clogs, the woodcutter cracked the man's collarbone, smacked his shoulder, grazed his handsome head. Gull stooped and hoicked Chad into the air, rending his shirt. Spinning to keep from where he supposed Oles to be, Gull hustled the dancing Chad a fast five steps.
Both gasped as they struck the corner of a building.
Gull crowded Chad, mashing him against the corner with his hip. The bodyguard flailed his sword, slashed at Gull's back, slit leather tunic and skin, but his arm was trapped.
Like a blade, the woodcutter's hand chopped down on Chad's arm. The sword clunked in the dust.
Gull grabbed a fistful of Chad's hair. Lifting the bodyguard on his tiptoes, he pulled to his shoulder -then slammed the handsome man's head against the corner hard as he could.
Like stunning the sedge troll, the first blow dazed Chad, took the fight out of him. Dark hair and skin stuck to rough building shingles.
The second blow was harder, better aimed, and knocked him out.
The fifth killed him.
Gull dropped Chad's maimed body, wiped blood from his hands onto the building.
"Feed the rats, rat."
Battle-fury abating, he remembered the rest of the attack. Oles. Greensleeves. Lily.
But he was alone in the dark street. He shouted the women's names, got no answer. Where the hell had they gone?
Frantic, he searched up and down the wide street. If Oles were returning to camp-why?-he'd go west, away from the docks.
Gull took a chance. Snatching Chad's sword, running on his aching knee, peering through the darkness, he hunted his sister.
Hundreds of feet on, Gull spied a wide man toting a struggling girl on his shoulder.
Greensleeves squirmed, twisted, hammered with bony fists, kicked, all while mewling like a starved cat. Oles lurched onward, shifting his burden, peering around for the town watch.
Kicking off his clogs, Gull pattered full tilt. Greensleeves's noise drowned out his approach. Leveling the borrowed sword, Gull aimed for Oles's back, low so the blade wouldn't bind in his ribs.
The sword bit clean as a snake's fang, slithered a cold path through Oles's gut. The sword point jutted from his belly, then withdrew, the rasping steel making him shiver.
Oles's strength failed as blood gushed from the wound. He stumbled, tried to hold the girl captive, but she was plucked from his shoulder.
He landed facedown in the dirt without a sound.
Gull towed his sister along the strand. The sand was firmest between the high tide line, marked by seaweed, and the waves. From what Lily had told him of tides, incoming water would cover their tracks.
Because most of all, Gull needed time to think.
Waves crashed and collapsed on the shore, streaming toward their feet as creamy white foam. The beach became rocks farther on, and he ducked between them, hopped from one salty boulder to the next, squished over heaps of seaweed that popped underfoot. The Mist Moon and starlight and the glow of the ocean itself lit their way. Wakened sea gulls squawked and took flight. Gull hoped his namesakes didn't betray him.
Past the rocks was a headland of sea grass and scrub oaks. He boosted Greensleeves up, climbed after her, and dragged her to the deepest patch of cover he could find. Grass and brambles tugged at her skirts and his bare legs. Kissed by the breeze through his slit shirt, his sword slice burned and itched.
Once past the first barrier of brambles, he used Chad's sword to hack through mulberry bushes. Cuttings gave a sweet resinous scent. A large flat rock stippled with lichens formed a clearing big enough for them to sit. The rock was warm from the day's sun, and they were below the chill sea breeze. Surf sound was muted.
Gasping, Gull collapsed, careful he didn't nick his sister with the sword. He took quick stock of their situation. He had his black dagger and mulewhip, Chad's sword, a purse full of coins, and nothing else. Greensleeves had less, a gown and shawl.