Silverthorn (Riftware Sage Book 2)

Roald pulled one from his saddle and they both slid down into the protection of the rocks. Jimmy waited as they rolled about, then, when he saw an opening, another Dark Brother died as the boy used his dirk.

 

The two remaining saw Laurie and Martin ready, and chose to retreat. Both died as Martin’s bow sang in the morning light. As soon as they were out of the saddle, Martin was over the rocks. He quickly scavenged the bodies and returned with a short bow and two quivers of arrows. “I’m almost out,” he said, indicating his depleted quiver. “These are not cloth-yard shafts, but I can use this little horse bow if I need.”

 

Arutha looked about. “There’ll be more along soon.”

 

“Do we run?” asked Jimmy.

 

“No. We would only gain a little, and we might not find a place nearly as defensible. We wait.”

 

Minutes passed and all waited with eyes turned toward the trail they knew the moredhel would use to attack them. Laurie whispered, “Run, Galain, run.”

 

For what seemed an eternity the woods were silent. Then in clouds of dust, with hooves pounding the ground, horsemen came into view.

 

The giant mute, Murad, rode in the van, a dozen Black Slayers behind him. Other moredhel and human renegades followed. Murad reined in, signaling for the others to halt.

 

Jimmy groaned. “There’s a hundred of them.”

 

Roald said, “Not a hundred, more like thirty.”

 

Laurie said, “That’s enough.

 

Arutha looked over the rock, saying, “We may be able to hold for a few minutes.” They all knew it was hopeless.

 

Then Baru stood. And before anyone could prevent him, he started shouting at the moredhel. in a language unknown to Jimmy, the Prince, and Martin. Laurie and Roald shook their heads.

 

Arutha began to reach for the hillman, but Laurie said, “Don’t. He’s challenging Murad to personal combat. A matter of honor.”

 

“Will he accept?”

 

Roald shrugged. “They’re a funny lot. I’ve fought the Dark Brothers before. Some of them are cutthroat renegades. But most are caught up in honor and ritual and the like. Depends on where you find them. If that lot’s a gang of moss-troopers from north Yabon, they’ll simply attack. But if Murad’s got a band of old-fashioned deep-forest Dark Brothers under his command, they may not take kindly to him saying no. If he’s trying to show some magic powers are backing him, he can’t rightly refuse and keep their loyalty. But mostly it depends on what Murad thinks about matters of honor “

 

“Whatever’s the outcome, Baru’s thrown them into confusion,” observed Martin.

 

Arutha could see the moredhel standing about while the mute stared impassively at Baru. Then Murad waved his hand toward Baru and the others. A moredhel in a cloak rode forward, turning his horse to face Murad, and said something in a questioning tone.

 

The mute motioned again, and the moredhel who confronted him waved the other way. The moredhel riders, except for those wearing black armor, retreated their mounts several yards. One of the humans rode up and turned his horse to face Murad. He shouted something at the moredhel leader, several other humans behind echoing the tones.

 

“Martin,” said Arutha, “can you make out what’s being said?”

 

“No. But whatever it is, it isn’t flattering, that’s for certain.”

 

Suddenly Murad drew his own sword and struck the offending human. Another human shouted something and seemed ready to ride forward, but two moredhel rode to intercept him. With a sullen expression the first brigand turned his horse and rode back to join the other humans.

 

Murad again gestured toward the humans, and charged his horse.

 

Baru leaped from the rocks and ran a short way forward to take up position. He stood his ground, his sword drawn back to strike. As the horse was almost upon him, Baru lashed out with a circling step that took him from harm’s way, and the horse nickered in pain as it stumbled.

 

The wounded animal went down. Murad, despite his bulk, rolled from the falling animal and came up, sword still in hand. He was quick and turned in time to meet Baru’s attack. The two combatants clashed, steel ringing on steel.

 

Arutha looked about. The dozen Black Slayers waited quietly, though for how long Arutha did not know. With Murad involved in a matter of honor, they might wait until the issue was decided. The Prince fervently hoped so.

 

All eyes watched, Martin said, “Don’t let down your guard. As soon as this is over, either way, they’ll hit us again.”

 

“At least I can catch my breath,” said Jimmy.

 

Arutha surveyed the area. Twenty more moredhel were approaching the area. All Baru did was buy them time.

 

Murad struck out and was struck in return. Within minutes both combatants were a mass of bleeding wounds, testimony to how each was able to almost deliver a death blow, but not quite. Cut and parry, lunge and riposte, slash and dodge, the struggle went on. The Hadati was equal in height to the moredhel, but the dark elf bulked larger. With a series of overhead, clubbing blows, Murad began to drive Baru back.