Turning back to the temple, I saw the underpriest pointing at the pennon, obviously realizing it was a poor disguise for a spear. Even from this distance, the shrug of Hewspear’s shoulders was clear and he casually indicated the underpriest’s guards with a wave of his hand.
The underpriest appeared to be quite angry. Hewspear shrugged again and waited him out. I glanced in the direction of the woods the other Syldoon were still hiding in, dreading one of them suddenly appearing to warn us more hostile troops had been sighted. But aside from the delicate sound of another pine cone dropping to the needled ground, and the breathing of the men around men, there was only stillness.
Whatever debate the two groups in the ruins had been having seemed to have concluded as they stepped closer, stopping six or seven paces apart now. A few more words were exchanged between Hewspear and the underpriest, the pennon rippling in the wind above them.
At last, both the underpriest and Hewspear stepped forward and the underpriest pulled the strap of the satchel over his head and threw it on the ground between them. It seemed he’d planned no trap at all, and was honoring his part of the dark bargain he’d made.
Hewspear laid the haft of the spear on his shoulder, took another step, and began to lean down as if to take up the satchel. But then he straightened immediately, his spear flying forward in two hands, thrusting into the guard to the right of the underpriest.
Hewspear had moved so quickly and abruptly, the guard hadn’t had time to dodge and the pennoned point of his spear struck him square in the belly. He doubled over and reached for the spear, but I didn’t see the expected splash of blood. Hewspear pulled his spear back and chopped down at the man’s shoulder. Even from this distance, I heard bone snap, but while the surcoat was torn open, there was still no blood—the torn surcoat revealed the mail hidden on the inside. Bloodied or not, the man dropped to the ground, the severed pennon fluttering and falling alongside him.
Mulldoos turned his round shield so the edge faced another halberdier, and I saw a blur of movement. The halberdier stumbled backwards, a bolt protruding from his chest, and fell to the stones. I didn’t understand what had happened until I saw Mulldoos discarding his shield—there was crossbow attached to the inside, which made for a one-shot surprise attack.
Odds suddenly reversed, the other two guards pulled the priest backwards and the three of them were retreating towards their horses, the guard with the greathelm now armed with sword and shield. Mulldoos and Braylar had their weapons and bucklers in hand now, and they stepped up alongside Hewspear, the three of them advancing forward.
Lloi shouted, “Now, Horntoad, send your men now! Tomner, go!”
I wondered at the urgency, as Braylar and his retinue had the advantage, but then I saw what she’d seen. Two lines of men were emerging from the ground closest to the towering, complete wall on the far side of the temple. I was sure my eyes deceived me—it seemed as if they materialized out of the very ground. And then I realized they had—they’d been waiting in two crypts covered in brush and grass mats, and now they were formed up, dirty and no doubt stiff, but a fighting force of twelve men, advancing at a trot, two hundred paces off. This was the trap Braylar had sensed but not seen.
The captain of the guards pushed the underpriest back with the edge of his shield and yelled something at him. The underpriest hesitated, head turning towards the river, no doubt looking for the arrival of his rescuers.
Braylar, Mulldoos, and Hewspear advanced and the captain shouted at the priest again, pushing him behind him as he kept walking backwards, the other guard at his side. The three Syldoon fanned out, but then Mulldoos glanced to his left and saw two guards scrambling over a low wall, followed by several more, moving quickly now they’d sighted the underpriest and his attackers.
Mulldoos must have called out a warning, as Braylar and Hewspear both looked there as well. Braylar took another step towards the underpriest but Mulldoos tried to move in front of him, shouting as he did. Braylar glanced at the approaching guards, back to the underpriest, gauging the distance and the little time he had, and then he began to move backwards towards the archway they’d entered from. With twelve men advancing on them and the rest of his reinforcements halfway up the hill, the three Syldoon couldn’t possibly hold out—they turned and ran for the archway.
The underpriest stepped towards the satchel lying between puddles, but the captain of guards slid his sword back in the scabbard and grabbed him by the shoulder, pointing towards their horses. The underpriest rounded on him and screamed in unpriestly fashion, but the captain gestured towards the Brunesmen and Syldoon coming down the hill as fast as they were able. The underpriest still seemed reluctant to leave, probably confident in their numbers, but even if he might not have moved as quickly as his protector liked, he began slowly walking in the direction of the horses. That must have been good enough for his captain, who didn’t touch or coerce him again.
It seemed they were sure to reach the horses and mount up, but then Vendurro came crashing out of the woods, riding hard for the three tethered horses on the perimeter of the temple. The halberdier and his captain ran forward, sword again in the captain’s hand, the underpriest jogging behind them. Vendurro reached the horses first and ripped their reins free from the branches.
The guard and captain were fifteen paces away, and the underpriest just behind him, when Vendurro lifted his crossbow and leveled it at the trio. They stopped and the captain raised his shield. Suddenly seeing the danger, the underpriest jumped behind the men in armor.
Standing next to me, Lloi said, just loud enough for me to hear, “The halberd. Shoot the halberd. Do it.”
Vendurro shouted something, but whatever it was, the guards took no notice as neither of them moved or seemed to respond. Vendurro pulled his right hand away from the long trigger and pointed, presumably at the priest, and then shouted again.
Lloi whispered, “Do it, quick now.”
As if he’d finally heard her, Vendurro loosed, although he failed to heed her choice of targets—the bolt blasted through the raised shield and skidded off the top of the captain’s helm. He stumbled back into the underpriest, falling to his knees. The halberdier charged forward. Vendurro kicked his heels into his horse, and the stolen horses followed. I thought he was going to trample the halberdier, but he turned the horses so they came between himself and the guard. Having no opportunity to strike, the halberdier did the wise thing and got out of the way as fast as he could. Vendurro led the horses at a canter back up the hill and into the woods.
The guard ran back to the captain and helped him to his feet. He rose unsteadily, but he clearly wasn’t dead or mortally injured.
I looked back towards the middle of the temple. The three Syldoon ran out of a second archway, but then Braylar stopped. Mulldoos and Hewspear both took a few more steps and then turned to look back at Braylar. He gestured at the hill with his buckler, at Gurdinn and the other men nearing the bottom, and then he pointed back towards their three horses. Mulldoos clearly didn’t like whatever Braylar was proposing, but Braylar shouted something else, gestured one last time, and then ran back towards some of the more complete pillars in the chamber.
Mulldoos started after him, but then Hewspear shouted something. Mulldoos looked at him and shook his head, liking whatever Hewspear said no better, but Hewspear grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him away. With a last look at Braylar, who was now hidden from view behind a pillar, Mulldoos turned and the pair ran towards the archway. Just as they reached it, Hewspear stopped and looked back at the chamber they had just left. Several of the guards raced in pursuit, but they appeared to have split up. It took me a moment to find them. They were circling the outskirts of the temple, making their way towards the three tethered Syldonian horses.
Those pursuing Hewspear and Mulldoos ran through the chamber, oblivious to Braylar, and raced for the far archway. I asked Lloi, “Why did Braylar break off from the others like that?”
“He come f
or the priest. Won’t be leaving without him, I’m thinking.”
I looked back to the temple, certain that several men were going to die today.
Mulldoos was standing a few paces inside the archway, waiting for his pursuers, while Hewspear was pressed against the wall, slashing spear held tight.
The archway was only wide enough for one man to come through at a time. The first guard entered, his large shield held before him, and Mulldoos slashed at his head. The guard blocked the blow and took another step, just clearing the archway, when Hewspear drove his spear into the guard’s exposed side. The long blade punched into the man’s ribs, and Hewspear pushed him hard against the stone archway as Mulldoos slashed again, this time taking him across the face, just below the nasal of his helm.
The guard collapsed, and Hewspear pulled his weapon free—this time the spearhead was bloody. The next guard attempted to step over the body, but Hewspear slashed at his thigh. The spear blade didn’t shear the mail beneath the surcoat, but the man was clearly hurt, as he pulled back.
Another guard attempted to breach the archway. As he stepped forward Hewspear feinted a thrust at his head. The guard began to raise his shield but he saw the real thrust aimed for his leg in time, bringing his shield down quickly to knock the spearpoint aside. As he did, Mulldoos slashed at the guard’s sword arm. The guard stepped into the attack, deflecting it with his sword, and tried to move forward so more of his comrades could fight their way in. But he slipped in the dead guard’s blood. Hewspear’s next thrust caught him in the neck, just above the surcoated mail coat. He spasmed and fell alongside the other body, struggling weakly as he died.
The four remaining guards didn’t seem to be in a hurry to attempt the archway after that, especially since it was partially blocked by two bodies. While they were debating what to do, Braylar moved between the large pillars to their rear and slipped through the opposite archway unseen.
He ran back towards the center of the temple. Reaching it, he glanced around, and seeing no one, kept moving, darting between pillars, heading roughly in the direction of the underpriest.
There was a noise behind us. Lloi and I both spun around, her with a crossbow balanced on her stumpy hand. Vendurro stepped between the trees. “Whoa, girl. Easy. Same side.” He grinned at me as if lives weren’t hanging in the balance below. “What’s happening?”
Lloi pointed to the Syldonian horses and the priest’s guards who were now surrounding them. “Six there. Three or four still in the middle, Mulldoos and Hewspear holding them off. Gurdinn and the rest are making for the horses.”
Vendurro surveyed the rest of the temple. “Cap?”
Lloi pointed to the other end. “Making a grab for the priest.” She looked at Vendurro and said, “You should have shot the halberd. No shield.” There was no mistaking the accusing tone.
Vendurro avoided her stare. “The other guard looked more important.”
“They’re both alive. That’s important. Next time, don’t fuss about rank. Kill who you can kill.” The anger in her voice told me she wasn’t certain there would be a next time.
“I’ll remember that, General Lloi. Now, let’s get down there.”
Lloi shook her head. “Captain Noose ordered us to guard them horses, and that’s exactly what I figure to do. You might want to be going on back to the other side and doing the same. Don’t call them orders for nothing.”
“They need our help.”
“Need us to do what they ordered us to do.”
Vendurro took a step towards her. “Listen, girl, they—”
I told them both to look. Braylar had made his way behind a pillar near the two guards and the underpriest, who was sitting on a broken column, mopping at his bald brow with a cloth. The halberdier was pacing, and when Braylar heard him near the pillar, he stepped out and struck. Bloodsounder slammed into the side of the guard’s helmet and he dropped like a sack of grain.
Braylar moved around the body and towards the underpriest, but the captain of the guards stepped between. As Braylar and the captain began to slowly circle each other, the underpriest decided he’d seen enough and ran in the other direction.
I heard the dull thwack of weapons striking wood and the sharp clang of weapons meeting each other or bits of armor and scanned the rest of the temple. Gurdinn and his men were fighting the underpriest’s guards near the horses, and there seemed to be little order to the conflict—it was a mad melee, where men fought without formation or discipline and simply tried to survive. I glanced quickly at the middle of the temple. The standoff between Mulldoos and Hewspear and the guards hadn’t changed, but only two guards were near the archway. The other two had made it to the edge of the temple, near the high drop-off. Both had their shields on their back and swords sheathed as they climbed up some the stones near the edge and tried to clamber over the wall.
I heard a cry and turned to see one of Gurdinn’s men cut down by a pair of priest guards. He tried to retreat up the steps leading to the temple, but exposed his lower legs in doing so. One guard struck him in the shin, the other in the opposite knee, and then he was down on his back. Both guards leaped up the stairs and hacked at him until he stopped jerking. Then they started back down the steps to help their companions.
Vendurro stood between Lloi and the temple to be sure he had her attention. “Stay until you grow more fingers if you like, but I’m going down.” He left the cover of the trees and Lloi ran deeper into the woods. I thought for a moment she’d fled, which made me want to run as well, but she returned leading two horses by the reins.
She mounted as soon as she was clear of the overhanging branches, and whistled for Vendurro. He turned and looked back up at her.
Lloi said, “We ride or not at all. Never make it otherwise.”
Vendurro shook his head. “They’ll break their legs.” But disregarding his own warning, he mounted his horse as well. Without another word, they sat as far back in their saddles as they could and plummeted down the side of the hill. I was sure Vendurro was right, but whatever gods favor foolish rescues opted to grant them clemency as they stayed in the saddle and the horses didn’t fall.
Despite the number of men trying to kill each other on the end of the temple closest to me, I couldn’t stop myself from watching what unfolded on the other end between Braylar and the captain of the guards. Braylar was moving around to the captain’s shield side, Bloodsounder behind the buckler, when he stepped forward and snapped the flail heads at the captain’s helm. The captain moved out of range and Braylar shuffled forward, feet barely leaving the ground as he allowed the flail heads to continue their arc before lashing out at the captain’s knee. The captain didn’t attempt to avoid the blow this time, but blocked the flail with the bottom of his shield, stepping in as he did, his sword a blur.
Braylar punched out with his buckler and deflected the blade and then it was his turn to clear range as the two continued moving around each other, looking for an opening, testing each other’s defenses. Braylar moved to his left and threw a shot over his buckler and toward the captain’s helm. The captain blocked it, but Braylar changed direction and passed to the other side with his quick shuffle, and as the heads struck the shield and ricocheted off, Braylar spun them around. They were aimed at the captain’s hip, and while the captain got his shield around in time to catch the chains, the heads disappeared, and judging from the way the captain jumped, they struck something behind his shield.
They continued like this, Braylar circling, attacking from the extreme edge of his range, using his peculiar angles to keep the captain’s shield on the move, bits of wood exploding whenever the flail heads struck the shield itself. I didn’t see him land any more shots, but the captain seemed less mobile, and while he threw some blows of his own, Braylar always stepped away, avoiding them or turning them with his buckler.
Braylar was content to orbit and wear the larger man down, when suddenly the captain charged in. Braylar stepped back and to the side, attempting to re
treat at an angle, but the captain moved with him as he threw a combination of blows. Braylar dodged the first, blocked the second and third with his buckler before throwing a shot of his own. The flail heads were aimed at the captain’s sword arm, but the shield blocked the chains. They got stuck for an instant on the edge of the shield on a spot that Braylar had torn away, and as Braylar struggled to free his flail, the captain stepped in close and thrust at his chest. Braylar deflected the thrust just enough with his buckler—it sliced through his tunic and slid along the outside of his scale shirt, but then the captain smashed Braylar in the side of the helm with the edge of his shield.
Braylar flew back and the flail ripped free of the shield. The blow must have stunned him, because he looked ready to fall to the ground. At the last moment, he stuck his buckler out and used it on the stone floor to maintain his balance, his wrist bending awkwardly as he did, and I thought he was going to break it. But somehow, he kept his feet as he stumbled forward in an awkward shamble to keep from falling on his face. Then he slid into a colossal section of toppled pillar, slamming into it with his shoulder. The captain was right behind him, sword coming down. Braylar must have sensed the attack—he dodged to his left and the blade scraped along the pillar, scarring the old stone.
Braylar spun around as the captain pressed forward again, deflecting the next blow with his buckler as he lashed out himself. The flail arced out low, parallel with the ground. One or both of the spiked heads struck the captain in the left knee, just below the mail surcoat. The captain took another step towards Braylar, but his leg buckled and he almost fell as Braylar used the brief respite to retreat several steps.
The captain came after Braylar again, but now it was with a pronounced limp, and I could see the blood trickling down his leg. Braylar was obviously aware of this as well, because he moved away from the pillar, again controlling the range of the engagement. Braylar snapped his wrist forward, and the flail heads flew towards the captain’s great helm. The captain brought his shield up in time, the spikes again tearing into the wood, splinters flying. But Braylar used that shot merely to set up his second, around the captain’s shield, striking the captain in the left hip.
Scourge of the Betrayer Page 23
