Jimmy pressed on, not allowing this dangerous foe the chance to collect himself, not while Jimmy had only one good arm. He swung down again with his sword, almost cutting the Keshian spy. Malar scrambled backward, halfway up a rock face, then rather than retreat, he used the momentum to hurl himself forward, inside of Jimmy’s sword.
Jimmy felt a blade slide across his ribs, and he gasped in pain, but he twisted enough that the point didn’t dig in. He contracted with his chest and stomach, striking Malar’s face with a vicious head-butt. Malar staggered backward, blood streaming from his broken nose, and Jimmy’s vision swam a moment.
Suddenly a horse almost ran Jimmy down, hooves flying, as it raced by. Jimmy got up as quickly as he could and realized he no longer held a sword. The bleeding Keshian spy grinned like a crazed wolf as he crouched low, holding his remaining dagger in his right hand. “Don’t move, young noble, and I’ll make this quick and painless.”
He took a step toward Jimmy, who countered with a handful of dirt to Malar’s eyes. Malar turned away, blinded by the dust, and Jimmy leaped to grip Malar’s wrist with his good right hand. Summoning as much strength as he could, he tried to crush Malar’s wrist by sheer willpower. Malar grunted in pain, but didn’t let go of the dagger. As Jimmy had suspected, the Keshian’s slight build hid steel-like strength, and nothing as trivial as a broken wrist would distract him.
Malar pulled back, Jimmy still holding his right wrist in his own right hand. With his left fist, Malar struck a backhanded blow to Jimmy’s shoulder. Jimmy cried out in pain and felt his knees buckle.
He nearly lost consciousness as Malar struck him in the left shoulder again, and felt the strength draining out of him. Malar drew back and wrenched his wrist free of Jimmy’s grasp, and in one motion deftly tossed his dagger from left to right hand. For an instant Jimmy looked up as Malar stood above him, poised to deliver a death blow, a vicious backhand stab with his left hand.
Malar’s eyes widened in shock, and he looked down. The dagger fell from his fingers and his hand went around behind his back, and he turned, as if to get a better angle on something. Jimmy saw an arrow protruding out of the spy’s right shoulder, and suddenly a second struck him with a loud thud.
Malar went to his knees, then his eyes rolled up into his head as blood flowed from his nose and mouth, and he fell face forward onto the stones before Jimmy.
Jimmy turned to see Songti and one of his men, armed with a bow, hurrying toward him. Jimmy sat back on his heels, then fell over backward, banging himself against the rocks.
Songti knelt and said, “Are you hurt?”
“I’ll live,” Jimmy croaked. “My shoulder’s dislocated.”
“Let me see,” said the Captain. He gently touched the shoulder and pain shot through Jimmy’s body, from waist to jaw. “Just a moment,” said the Captain, then with a sure move, he gripped the upper portion of Jimmy’s arm and clamped his other hand down on the shoulder and shoved the arm back into position.
Jimmy’s eyes widened and watered and he could barely catch his breath, then the pain passed.
Songti said, “Better to do it soon, before things swell and you can’t get it back in. Then you need a healer or priest, or a great deal of brandy. You’ll be better tomorrow.”
“If you say so,” Jimmy replied weakly.
“I got the second rider, but there was a third.”
“He almost ran me down,” said Jimmy as Songti helped him to his feet.
“It was the officer.”
Jimmy swore. “Are the messages to Duko still over there?”
The archer looked around and saw the leather pouch, reached down, and held it up. “It’s here.”
Jimmy waved the man over, and he handed the bundle to the Captain. Songti pulled out the documents and said, “There are seven papers here.”
“That’s all of them,” said Jimmy. He looked down at the dead spy and said, “That was too close.”
Songti motioned for the archer to give Jimmy a steadying hand. “We must bury the dead. If there’s another patrol nearby and they see vultures circling, they might come to investigate in the morning.”
Jimmy shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Before first light, we’re down that trail back across the border. We may kill horses, but we’ve got to get back to Port Vykor, and I’ve got to get up to Krondor as fast as possible.
“Because that officer escaped?”
Jimmy nodded yes. “I don’t know how closely he read these, or what Malar told him, but he’ll carry word back to his masters that Krondor is being held by a handful of palace guards and every fighting man not tied up at Land’s End or in the vale is up north facing Fadawah.”
“These Keshians would press the advantage?”
Jimmy said, “Indeed they would. One quick strike up to the city and they hold Prince Patrick. The King would grant them much to reclaim his son.”
Songti said, “It was simpler when we lived in Novindus.”
Jimmy laughed, though it hurt him to do so. “No doubt,” he said as he leaned on the archer and hobbled back to the oasis.