Grabbing a fistful of the man’s shirt, he yanked Talbin up on the counter top and pressed the naked steel of his sword against the slope of the man’s throat.
“You think a Sleepwalker’s going to save you?” Secrist seethed. He sliced into the man’s neck so that blood dribbled down from the cut and stained the table. Talbin blinked quickly, flinching, but he didn’t move.
“Never presume with a Sleepwalker,” Talbin warned, his eyes flinty and stubborn. “Not a wise thing.”
“Not a wise thing crossing a Kiran Thall either,” Secrist countered. “I thought you fools in Castun would have heard that by now.” He looked around the room, watching for anyone to challenge him. Nothing. He felt Talbin swallow, his eyes turning white with panic.
“Just a rumor then?” Secrist taunted. “A fool’s rumor?”
Talbin said nothing.
“Then it’s too bad for you,” Secrist chuckled, jerking the sword back to sweep the innkeeper’s head off.
Secrist’s arm locked behind him and he felt a rush of wind as he was thrown backward onto the floor. Shouts of surprise rang in his ears. He was stunned by the blow and waited for the ‘Root to bring him around. Crossbow strings twanged and bolts thudded into wood. Opening his eyes, Secrist saw the Sleepwalker standing over him, twisting and dodging as bolts slammed into the counter space and wall. He moved like quicksilver. Dropping down to one knee, the Sleepwalker hammered his fist into Secrist’s nose and wrenched the sword from his hand, tossing it away. Secrist felt himself being lifted and then he was in the air, crashing headfirst against the far wall where he collapsed with a thump. It should have killed him.
Secrist bit deeply into the ‘Root, sucking the juice down his throat to stave off the fits of pain from his crushed skull. Shouts and yells erupted from the Catpaw as the rest of the Kiran Thall attacked. Secrist struggled to open his eyes and then watched in horror as the Sleepwalker brought his men down, one by one. Bralt, Cremno, Dagger, and Tomn. They went down — just like that — with a whisper of death in the air. The Sleepwalker had a long, tapered blade of his own with an odd-shaped pommel, some strange design carved into it. It flashed against the glare of the lamps, spraying blood across the room. Another surprise, the knight appeared from the side hall, brandishing his double-handed blade. He struck at the Kiran Thall from the other side, slashing three before the others whirled and fled. Already the horsemen were retreating, howling in dismay, cowering before the strength of the Sleepwalker and the knight. The blades danced in the air, zigzagging here and there, leaving fallen soldiers in puddles of blood. Secrist stared at the Sleepwalker through half-lidded eyes, feeling his strength return and his thoughts cool into ice. The ‘Root healed him. His broken nose fused back together, his smashed lip stopped throbbing. His skull fused whole again. Secrist didn’t have enough ‘Root left to keep going against the Sleepwalker alone. Not yet.
It was over.
The Sleepwalker stood silently over the dead Kiran Thall, looking for any movement of life. The knight had followed the fleeing men, determined to hack down as many as he could. The craven rook! Outside, the horses were galloping away, rushing down the street into the protection of the night. They had left him to die. The banned cowards. Secrist stared at the Sleepwalker through half-lidded eyes. I’ll kill you myself, you black-robed rook.
*
It’s over,” Allavin Devers whispered in the blackness, appearing out of nowhere. Thealos eased the tension from his bow. The woodsman’s boots didn’t crunch in the scrub and pine needles. It was the softest stepwalking Thealos had observed in a human – except for Jaerod. He joined Thealos at the edge of their small camp nestled in the quiet of the Shadows Wood.
“Where are they?” Thealos whispered, resting the bow on the toe of his boot.
“Can’t say for sure. But they scattered the Kiran Thall to the four winds, I can tell you that much.” He clucked his tongue. “Ban, Jaerod is faster than any man I’ve seen. The knight is a howling fury himself. I’ll keep watch for them. You should try and get some sleep.”
Thealos patted Allavin’s shoulder. “Sleep? After all this?” He rose and joined the rest of the camp. The moon barely penetrated the thick net of branches and needles. But down the slope of the hill, he could see a few of the glimmering lights from Castun. Thealos moved past the towering trunks and found Flent and Ticastasy grumbling in the dark.
“Here comes Thealos,” Flent said, his sharp Drugaen eyes catching him in the shadows.