“He did the same thing on the way to Carran and nearly killed himself,” Iris explained as they left Creel behind. “He had to be a hero and let Rafe and me escape.” Her voice held as much admiration as it did annoyance.
He is a hero. As are all of you.
Sianna and Iris were both accomplished riders, although riding bareback at such a pace sorely tested their skills. Poor Rafe, however, was able to do little other than cling to his galloping horse for dear life. She figured if it came down to a fight, they would be in trouble with neither saddles nor stirrups. And a fight looked increasingly more likely, as they were all exhausted, including their horses, with their current pace steadily slowing.
She hated to admit it, and the thought that Creel was about to sacrifice himself for her escape galled her, but she knew he was right—they wouldn’t have a chance without his interference. She could only pray Sol protected him.
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Creel ride right into their pursuers. One Nebaran toppled from his saddle a moment before Creel reached them, a dagger sticking out of his chest. Creel and another rider’s mounts collided, swords glinted in the sunlight, and the Nebaran was unhorsed. Riders swirled around Creel, half the group intent on taking him down, while the remaining half dozen swerved around the skirmish to continue the pursuit.
If he doesn’t rejoin us in time, it’s six on three now—much better odds. Perhaps we can ambush them somehow?
She refused to consider the possibility that Creel wouldn’t survive. She’d seen him survive extraordinary wounds—a severed leg, a flaming arrow to the chest—and didn’t know how he regenerated from his wounds but knew the gods must surely favor him.
Even as the thought of an ambush crossed her mind, she knew it wouldn’t work. They didn’t have enough of a lead, and the lack of hiding places doomed that desperate plan.
She was so intent on leaning low over her horse and trying to will more speed from the animal that a spear took her by surprise. It flashed past a handbreadth from her thigh, lodging into the soft loam. A quick glance back revealed their pursuers were less than ten paces away.
Sol help us. Rafe caught her eye, and she knew he intended to take them on so that she and Iris could escape.
“No, Rafe!” Not only did she fear the outcome if he fought the Nebaran soldiers, but she thought it likely he might fall and break his neck in the attempt, being an unskilled horseman riding bareback.
“Look!” Iris pointed ahead to their left. A pair of riders dressed in the black-and-gold surcoats of their foes rode out of a shallow gully and raced directly toward them. One of them was waving wildly, hailing his fellow Nebarans.
Sianna uttered a salty curse she’d heard from the guardsmen at Castle Llantry and steered her horse away from these newest riders, cutting back to the northeast, her companions following her lead. Her horse was panting heavily now, its flanks starting to foam, and she knew the poor animal desperately needed rest and water before it gave out.
She glanced back to see their pursuers had slowed to allow the other pair of riders to approach. One of the pursuing soldiers abruptly fell from his horse as if yanked down by unseen hands. A second followed in short order, then the two new arrivals drew steel and crossed swords with their comrades.
What is going on here? She reined in her horse, turning to watch the fighting. Iris and Rafe pulled up as well, the three of them observing curiously.
Only two remained on horseback among the group of combatants. One of the men stood up in his stirrups and shouted something, waving his hands over his head at them. Sianna exchanged confused looks with Iris and Rafe. They waited a moment longer.
The tall grass stirred as someone or something rapidly approached. Sianna drew her short sword, deciding she’d had enough fleeing for the time being.
“Wait!” a voice cried, sounding familiar. The grass parted, and an armored figure slowed to a stop before them.
Sianna blinked, needing a moment to recognize the person. “Ferret?” she asked incredulously.
“Aye, it’s me. And the others.” The girl’s shiny metallic face regarded her impassively, purple eyes glowing, but Sianna thought she sensed a smile behind the words. “Where’s Dak?”
“Creel rode back to hold off pursuit,” Rafe answered heavily. “Again.”
“Oh. How many?” she asked, looking around.
Sianna shook her head. “A half dozen or so.”
“He’ll catch up soon enough, then,” Ferret replied confidently. “It’ll take more than that to bring that tough bastard down.”
Sianna smiled, thinking that was probably true. “What of Taren?”
“He’s hurt… unconscious, but Kulnor thinks he’ll be fine. Same with Mira.”
“Your Majesty!” Sir Edwin rode up, dressed in the colors of Nebara, along with another man Sianna didn’t recognize who was dressed the same. “Are you well?”
She nodded. “Yes, Sir Edwin. I thank you all for your timely intervention.”
Edwin looked pleased. “We’d have come to your aid sooner, but this one”—he scowled at Ferret—“lied to me and led us after that mage instead.”
“I’m glad she did,” Sianna replied with a smile at Ferret. “Taren risked much on our behalf, and I’m heartened to hear he and Mira made it out alive.” She got the impression Ferret was pleased at her words, but Edwin clearly wasn’t.
The knight’s expression darkened, but he held his tongue.
“Let’s rest a moment,” Sianna said. “Our mounts are about spent.” She dismounted less gracefully than she had hoped, her cramped legs making the maneuver difficult, but patted her horse on the neck and stroked its muzzle.
“We found a bit of cover back this way.” Ferret waved for them to follow.
They walked their horses back to the gully that Edwin and the other man, who introduced himself as Jahn when she inquired, had ridden out of.
“Perhaps you and your companions would prefer saddled mounts, Your Majesty,” Jahn said. He had gathered the reins of the Nebarans’ horses and was leading them over.
“That would be wonderful. Thank you.”
He bowed, pleased at her approval.
Sianna’s heart skipped a beat when she saw Taren’s condition. He was unconscious and looked nearly a corpse with ashen face and dark circles under his eyes. His robes were torn and bloodstained. Mira lay beside him, looking just as bad off. An odd, color-shifting cloak was draped over the two of them to keep them warm. Without thinking, Sianna knelt beside Taren, clasping his cold hand.
“The two of ’em ought to recover just fine, Yer Majesty,” the dwarf, who had been introduced as Kulnor, told her. He had stood guard over the two during the skirmish. “Just need a fair bit o’ rest.”
She nodded, relieved, and wished Taren would awaken right then so she could thank him for all he’d risked for her. “Thank you for tending to them, Master Kulnor.”
“It’s me pleasure, Yer Majesty.” Kulnor bowed.
A gentle hand fell on her shoulder. “Sianna. Perhaps you should address the men,” Iris said.
She knew what her friend meant. Sianna, it’s unseemly to be so concerned with a commoner, and you must act the part of a queen. In reality, after seeing the faces of her friends sleeping so peacefully, all she wished for at that moment was to be curled up in a warm bed herself somewhere. She got back to her feet, ignoring her aching muscles, and straightened her tunic, although it was dirty and disheveled. Sir Edwin was watching her with a sullen look. He’s going to be a problem, I fear.
The group was all regarding her now, as if awaiting orders.
“I’d like to thank all of you for your bravery in coming to my rescue and also during our escape. Ketania is honored to have such noble-hearted defenders. And Master Kulnor, I fear I am in your debt, as well as your people’s, for your role.”
The group looked both pleased and a bit discomfited by the praise—all save Ferret, whose metal mask revealed nothing. Sir Edwin at least relaxed, n
odding to himself. Kulnor looked embarrassed by the praise and mumbled something about just doing the decent thing.
The sound of rapidly approaching hoofbeats jolted them back to alertness. The men drew steel and formed a defensive wall in front of Sianna.
She relaxed when Creel rode up to the mouth of the gully. He hopped from the back of his horse, wincing at some ache when he landed. He was cut up and bloodied, but none of his wounds looked especially serious.
“Well met,” he said.
Ferret strode forward to face Creel, stopping before him with arms crossed. Sianna would have bet money she was glaring at the warrior, although she was sure it was feigned annoyance.
“What kept you, Dak?” Ferret asked.
“Had to find a pair of boots that fit,” Creel answered with a sheepish grin.
Chapter 14
Creel glanced over his shoulder for perhaps the tenth time in as many minutes. The pursuit was still several hundred paces behind but definitely gaining on them. And an awful lot of troops were in pursuit this time—far too many to fight at once, at least two score from what he could see, probably even more. The Nebarans must have discovered the corpses from the last skirmish more quickly than expected, for they had barely an hour’s reprieve before they were again being pursued.
All we can do is deal with them when they get closer.
He squinted ahead, hoping to glimpse some sign of the Ketanian troops who were supposed to be deployed south, but he saw nothing but the monotony of the rolling plains, occasionally broken by copses of scrubby trees and bushes.
After he caught up with the others that morning, they had taken a brief but much-needed break to eat, drink, and rest. Creel had built a tiny fire—just enough to brew his elixir, although it had clearly been appreciated by the others, for more than one cold pair of hands warmed themselves over its limited heat.
I shouldn’t have built the fire. They must have spotted the smoke, no matter how little there was. Either that or they have some truly skilled trackers. But he knew if he hadn’t drunk his concoction, he might have already tumbled from his saddle, as his pain had gotten steadily worse throughout the course of the morning. But since he’d quaffed his brew, he felt much improved.
A small blessing we’ve got saddled mounts now. They had taken the enemy patrol’s horses and left their own winded steeds behind.
He glanced around at the others, amazed they’d made it this far without losing anyone since their escape. Thanks to Taren’s arrival. The lad’s trip to Nexus surely paid off—he’s come into his power now.
Despite Kulnor’s ministrations, the mage remained unconscious—in addition to the trauma of his wounds, he was thoroughly drained from overexpending his magic during the rescue. That wasn’t uncommon, as Creel knew from his former Magehunter days. A mage who had overdrawn too much of his own reserves would take quite some time to fully recover.
Mira looked little better off than Taren though she had woken just before they set off. She insisted on riding with Taren, supporting him with her arms around his waist. Kulnor said she had taken some pretty nasty wounds, which he’d healed, but she badly needed rest as well. Creel wouldn’t have been surprised to see the pair hit the ground at any moment, but thus far, the monk’s iron determination had kept them mounted.
Kulnor clung to his reins and saddle horn with a white-knuckled grip, in danger of falling at the rapid pace they were maintaining. The stirrups couldn’t be shortened enough to fit the dwarf’s short legs, and he bounced and bobbed wildly in the saddle the entire time.
Sianna, Iris, Edwin, and Jahn all rode well, especially now that none had to ride bareback. A saddle and bridle worked wonders—even Rafe now seemed an accomplished horseman.
Ferret preferred running, leaving them a couple of spare mounts in case Taren woke or a horse ended up going lame. Sunlight glinted on Ferret’s smooth skull where she ran steadily a short distance from Creel, near Mira and Taren’s horse.
Likely thinking the same, that they could fall off at any moment, and ready to help. He smiled as he watched the lass. Despite all she’d been through, she was as practical minded as ever.
Movement off to the right caught his gaze, and he cursed, for from over a small rise, another patrol had emerged. He quickly counted eight mounted soldiers heading toward them at a trajectory that would cut them off. Their party could manage against that many, but they’d be slowed enough that the larger Nebaran force in the distance would catch them.
Nebarans crawling across this whole land like flies on a dragon-sized heap of shite.
Edwin, who was riding in the lead, also spotted the patrol and waved to the others. They veered their horses farther west to avoid them, but Creel could see the Nebarans would be right on their heels, within range to put a crossbow bolt or spear in someone’s back.
This is becoming painfully routine. “Keep riding!” he shouted.
Sianna evidently knew what he was about to do, for she glanced back and frowned, shaking her head. But he knew what his duty was, and that was to see his queen to safety. If that required sacrificing himself, then so be it.
Damn it, when did I get to be so noble? He snorted in amusement at the thought. I reckon I’m the best suited to take a few swords for the sake of the kingdom, if nothing else.
Creel broke off from the others and spurred his mount directly toward the rapidly approaching patrol. But this time, he wasn’t alone. Ferret, Kulnor, and Jahn followed his lead. Rafe looked pained, as if he wanted to accompany them also, but he must have decided he’d best remain and protect the women.
Eight Nebaran horsemen charged at Creel and his three companions.
Creel hefted one of the spears he’d collected earlier from the Nebarans he’d slain and heaved it, striking a horseman in the chest and causing the man to pitch backward off his horse. Final Strike was in his hand the moment the spear struck, then he was clashing against another horseman. He ducked a clumsy swing at his head and laid open the man’s guts as he rode past. He wheeled his mount around just in time to see Kulnor get unhorsed when he tried to parry a sword stroke, his legs too short to give him enough leverage. Ferret grabbed one horseman by the leg and hurled him from his saddle as easily as if he were made of straw. Jahn slowed his mount to trade a couple blows with his opponent, then dropped him by splitting open his helm. The remaining Nebarans swarmed around Jahn and Ferret.
Creel turned his horse and slammed into the knot of horsemen. Final Strike slid into one attacker’s back, and the man slumped from the saddle. Ferret hurled another soldier violently to the ground with a crunch. The final two men attacked Jahn simultaneously; he parried the first stroke aside, but his second opponent thrust his spear at his back. Before the spearman could find his target, a glint of silver flashed, and he dropped his spear with a cry, a hand axe lodged in his shoulder.
“Thought ye’d take all the fun, eh?” Kulnor, dirty and bruised with bits of grass in his beard, waded up and smacked the wounded spearman on the knee with his warhammer.
The soldier shrieked as his knee shattered and he struggled to control his horse, but the animal reared and threw him. It trampled the wounded man before running off. Kulnor put him out of his misery. The final soldier was slumped in his saddle, bleeding from a chest wound as Jahn wiped his blade clean.
“Thought we’d lost you there,” Creel said to Kulnor, suppressing a smile.
The dwarf scowled and glared at his horse, which was innocently munching on grass a short way off. “It ain’t right for any Reiktir-fearing dwarf to ride such a mammoth beast. I need the feel o’ the earth close ’neath me feet.”
“We’d better hurry before those bastards catch the queen,” Jahn warned.
“Aye, we can’t afford to get too far behind,” Creel agreed.
Ferret retrieved Kulnor’s mount. Before the dwarf could protest, she boosted him into the saddle. He spluttered a curse, sprawling on his belly across the saddle and nearly toppling off the far side to fall on his head
, but he managed to grab the saddle horn. With Ferret’s aid, he was able to unceremoniously right himself. Jahn returned his hand axe, then Creel swatted the mount’s rump. Kulnor’s startled bellow was drowned out by the hoofbeats as the rest of them spurred after Sianna and the others.
Creel cursed when he saw that not only were he and his companions well behind the bulk of the Nebaran pursuers now, but they wouldn’t be able to reach Sianna without going through roughly fifty of their foes first. And that would be assuming they could even catch them at all on their tired horses.
Nothing for it now but to keep after them.
***
The pursuit gained rapidly once Creel’s small group split off to deal with the intercepting patrol. Sianna’s mount was winded, as were the other horses.
She glanced over her shoulder and saw their pursuers were less than thirty paces back. They’ll be able to put spears in our backs at any moment.
She wished Taren would rouse, for his magic display during the rescue had been awe-inspiring. But after a quick glance at the mage, she knew he wouldn’t wake, and even if he did, she doubted he’d be much use in the inevitable fight. His chin was on his chest, and he jounced around precariously on his mount. Somehow, Mira was managing to keep the two of them from falling, but the monk looked as though she was hanging on by sheer willpower alone.
Ahead lay more of the endless rolling hills and still no sign of any of Lord Lanthas’s troops. She did spot a copse of trees off to the west a short distance.
It’s not much, but perhaps we can muster some type of defense within the cover of the trees. She called out to Sir Edwin and pointed, and he nodded, evidently having the same thoughts.
So this is it, then. I cannot expect others to keep fighting my battles for me.
She was strangely calm, considering that they would make their stand a couple hundred paces away. They would either be recaptured or die. She had little doubt as to the outcome, with only two true fighters, Rafe and Edwin, along with herself and Iris, and then Taren and Mira, who were in no shape to contribute to the fighting.
Trial of the Thaumaturge (Scions of Nexus Book 3) Page 11
