Silverthorn (Riftware Sage Book 2)

Steel clashed upon steel and the battle was joined. Roald leaped atop the rock, as had Baru before, and his sword also struck out at all who came within his reach. No moredhel could ride in close enough to strike him with their short swords, while his broadsword delivered death to whoever rode within reach.

 

Arutha parried a blow aimed at Laurie, then struck upward from a crouch to take a rider. Roald leaped and dragged one from saddle and clubbed him with the hilt of his sword. Seven moredhel died before the others withdrew. Arutha said, “They didn’t all charge.” The others could see that some of the moredhel had held back, and others were still arguing, along with two human renegades. A few of the Black Slayers were still mounted, and they were ignoring what transpired with their companions, forming for another charge.

 

Jimmy liberated another dagger from a moredhel just at the edge of the rocks, then noticed something. He tugged at Martin’s sleeve. “See that ugly-looking fellow with the fancy red breastplate and all those gold rings and things?”

 

Martin saw such a one sitting at the head of the human riders. “Yes.”

 

“Can you kill him now?”

 

“It’s a difficult shot. Why?”

 

“Because as sure as there’s elves in the woods, that’s Reitz. He’s captain of that band of outlaws. You knock him off and the others will most likely run away, or at least keep holding back until a new captain’s elected.”

 

Martin rose up, took aim, and let fly. The shaft sped between the boles of the trees and took the indicated rider in the throat. With a snap his head came up and he somersaulted backward out of his saddle. “Amazing,” said Jimmy.

 

Martin said, “I had to clear the top of that breastplate.” Laurie said dryly, “Not very sporting, shooting without warning.

 

“You may convey my apologies,” said Martin. “I forgot you singers always have the heroes acting that way in your sagas.”

 

“If we’re the heroes,” said Jimmy, “the outlaws should run away. “

 

True to Jimmy’s prediction, the human renegades began muttering among themselves, and were suddenly riding away. One moredhel shouted after them angrily, then waved another attack upon the Prince’s party. Another moredhel spit on the ground before the first and turned his horse, motioning some companions away as well. Twenty or so rode after the humans.

 

Arutha counted. “Fewer than twenty this time, and the Slayers.”

 

The riders dismounted, including those who had held back during the previous attack. They had discovered they couldn’t close in to the rocks while on horseback. They ran close, using the trees as cover and fanned out, to surround Arutha’s position.

 

Roald said, “This is what they should have done the first time.”

 

“They’re a little slow, but not entirely stupid,” commented Laurie.

 

Jimmy clutched his dagger as the Dark Brothers charged. “I’d have preferred stupidity.”

 

The moredhel came in a wave, and suddenly there was fighting on all sides. Jimmy leaped away as a sword came crashing down from above. He thrust upward with his dagger and took the moredhel in the stomach.

 

Roald and Laurie battled, back to back, surrounded by Dark Brothers. Martin shot until he was out of arrows, when he grabbed up the moredhel bow and arrows. His firing was rapid and accurate and a dozen more Dark Brothers were struck before he dropped the bow and pulled his sword.

 

Arutha fought like a man possessed, his rapier delivering injury at every quarter. No moredhel could get close and remain free of wounds. But the Prince knew time would eventually win. The defenders would fatigue and slow and then they would die.

 

Arutha could feel the strength drain from his arms as the certainty of death came to him. There was little point in hoping. There were more than twenty moredhel still standing, and they were but five.

 

Martin hewed with his sword, cutting all who came before him. Roald and Laurie lunged and parried, giving up only inches, but slowly being worn down by the attackers.

 

A moredhel leaped over the stone breastwork and spun to face Jimmy. Jimmy acted without hesitation, his stiff side slowing him only slightly. He lashed out and sliced the moredhel’s hand, causing it to drop its sword. The Dark Brother yanked its belt knife loose as Jimmy slashed again. But the moredhel leaped back, avoiding the boy’s cut. Then it closed and was upon Jimmy. The boy slashed wildly, losing his balance and his knife, and the moredhel was atop him. A knife blade came rushing toward the boy’s face, but he dodged and it struck rock. Jimmy gripped at the creature’s wrist, holding the blade away. The blade came toward his face, for the weakened boy could not hold back the moredhel’s superior strength.

 

Then the moredhel’s head snapped backward and Jimmy could see a knife drawn across the dark elf’s throat, leaving a bloody track. The moredhel was pulled off by the hand gripping his hair, then the hand was extended to Jimmy.