Richard started over, keeping his voice low. "I was up there on a hill, above the lake. I saw you walking on the path by the shore. There are some men following you."
She betrayed no emotion, but continued to hold his gaze. "How many?"
He thought her question strange, but answered it. "Four."
The color drained from her face.
She turned her head, surveying the woods behind her, scanning the shadows briefly, then looked back to him once more, her green eyes searching his.
"Do you choose to help me?" Except for her color, her exquisite features gave no hint as to her emotions.
Before his mind could form a thought, he heard himself say, "Yes."
Her countenance softened. "What would you have us do?"
"There's a small trail that turns off here. If we take it, and they stay on this one, we can be away."
"And if they don't? If they follow our trail?"
"I'll hide our tracks." He was shaking his head, trying to reassure her. "They won't follow. Look, there's no time…"
"If they do?" she cut him off. "Then what is your plan?" to hide. He saw nothing, and started to feel better. They weren't being followed; the men were nowhere to be seen, and were probably miles down Hawkers Trail by now. The farther from the boundary and the closer to town they got, the better he felt. His plan had worked.
Seeing no sign that they were being followed, Richard wished they could stop for a rest, as his hand was throbbing, but she gave no sign that she needed or wanted a break. She kept pushing on. as if the men were right on their heels. Richard remembered the look on her face when he had asked if they were dangerous, and quickly rejected any thought of stopping.
As morning wore on, the day became warm for this late in the year. The sky was a bright, clear blue, with only a few white, wispy clouds drifting by. One of the clouds had taken on the undulating form of a snake, with its head down and tail up. Because it was so unusual, Richard remembered seeing the same cloud earlier in the day-or was it yesterday? He would have to remember to mention it to Zedd the next time he saw him. Zedd was a cloud reader, and if Richard failed to report his sighting he would have to endure an hour-long lecture on the significance of clouds. Zedd was probably watching it this very moment, fretting over whether or not Richard was paying attention.
The path took them to the south face of small Blunt Mountain, where it crossed a sheer cliff face for which the mountain was named. Crossing the cliff near midheight, the trail offered a panoramic view of the southern Ven Forest and, to their left, in cloud and mist, almost hidden behind the cliff wall, the high, rugged peaks belonging to the boundary. Richard saw brown, dying trees standing out against the carpet of green. Up closer to the boundary the dead trees were thick. It was the vine, he realized.
The two of them advanced quickly across the cliff trail. They were so clearly in the open, with no chance to hide, that anyone could spot them easily, but across the cliff the trail would begin to head down into the Hartland Woods and then into town. Even if the men did figure out their mistake and follow, Richard and the woman had a safe lead.
As it neared the far side of the cliff face, the path started to broaden from its treacherous, narrow width to a space wide enough for two to walk side by side. Richard trailed his right hand along the rock wall for reassurance while looking over the side to the boulder fields several hundred feet below. He turned and checked behind. Still clear.
As he turned back, she froze in midstride, the folds of her dress swirling around her legs.
In the trail ahead, that only a moment earlier had been empty, stood two of the men. Richard was bigger than most men; these men were much bigger than him. Their dark green hooded cloaks shaded their faces but couldn't conceal their heavily muscled bulk. Richard's mind raced, trying to conceive of how the men could have gotten ahead of them.
Richard and the woman spun, prepared to run. From the rock above, two ropes dropped down. The other two men plummeted to the path, landing on their feet with heavy thuds, blocking any retreat. They were as big as the first two. Buckles and leather straps beneath their cloaks held an arsenal of weapons that glinted in the sunlight.
Richard wheeled back to the first two. They calmly pushed their hoods back. Each had thick blond hair and a thick neck; their faces were rugged, handsome.
"You may pass, boy. Our business is with the girl." The man's voice was deep, almost friendly. Nonetheless, the threat was as sharp as a blade. He removed his leather gloves and tucked them in his belt as he spoke, not bothering to look at Richard. He obviously didn't consider Richard an obstacle. He appeared to be the one in charge, as the other three waited silently while he spoke.
Richard had never been in a situation like this before. He never allowed himself to lose his temper, and could usually turn scowls to smiles with his easy manner. If talk didn't work, he was quick enough and strong enough to stop threats before anyone was hurt, and if need be he would simply walk away. He knew these men weren't interested in talking, and they clearly weren't afraid of him. He wished he could walk away now.
Richard glanced to her green eyes and saw the visage of a proud woman beseeching his help.
He leaned closer, and kept his voice low, but firm. "I won't leave you." Relief washed over her face.
She gave a slight nod as she settled her hand lightly on his forearm. "Keep between them, don't let them all come at me at once," she whispered. "And be sure you aren't touching me when they come." Her hand tightened on his arm and her eyes held his, waiting for confirmation that he understood her instructions. He nodded his agreement. "May the good spirits be with us," she said. She let her hands drop to her sides, turning to the two behind them, her face dead calm, devoid of emotion.
"Be on your way, boy." The leader's voice was harder. His fierce blue eyes glared. He gritted his teeth. "Last time offered.". j'
Richard swallowed hard.
He tried to sound sure of himself. "We will both be passing." He heart felt as if it were coming up into his throat.
"Not this day," the leader said with finality. He pulled free a wicked-looking curved knife.
The man to his side pulled a short sword clear of the scabbard. strapped across his back. With a depraved grin, he drew it across the inside of his muscled forearm, staining the blade red. From behind, Richard could hear the ring of steel being drawn. He was paralyzed with fear. This was all happening too fast. They had no chance. None.
For a brief moment no one moved. Richard flinched when the four gave the howling battle cries of men prepared to die in mortal combat. They charged in a frightening rush. The one with the short sword swung it high, coming at Richard. He could hear one of the men behind him grab the woman as the man with the sword raced toward him.
And then, just before the man reached him, there was a hard impact to the air, like a clap of thunder with no sound. The violence of it made every joint in his body cry out in sharp pain. Dust lifted around them, spreading outward in a ring.
The man with the sword felt the pain of it, too, and for an instant his attention was diverted past Richard, to the woman. As he came crashing forward, Richard fell back against the wall and with both feet hit the man square in the chest as hard as he could. It knocked him clear of the path, into midair. The man's eyes went wide in surprise as he dropped backward to the rocks below, the sword still held over his head in both hands.
To Richard's shock, he saw one of the other two men from behind him falling through space, too, his chest ripped and bloody. Before Richard could give it a thought, the leader with the curved knife charged past, intent on the woman. He hammered the heel of his free hand into the center of Richard's chest. The jolt knocked the wind out of him and flung him hard against the wall, smacking his head against the rock. As he fought to remain conscious, his only thought was that he had to stop the man from getting to her.