Tal rolled, barely avoiding the animal’s hooves, and felt Raven’s sword pass over him, missing him by bare inches, for the mercenary captain had not leaned over far enough in order to deliver the death blow.
Tal levered himself upright, placing his weight on his uninjured left leg, and got ready to fight again. But instead of the expected attack, he saw Raven riding to the south.
The murderer had had enough, and was running away, his exhausted mount barely able to sustain a trot. Tal shouted for his mare; but she took no notice. She was too far away for him to get to with his injured leg. He needed to tend his injuries, or he would faint from blood loss. He was already dizzy from the blow to his head sustained falling from his horse.
Black frustration rose up and swept over him when he spied his bow and quiver only a few yards away. As fast as he could, he hobbled over to where they lay and picked up the bow. He drew one arrow from the quiver, nocked the string, and pulled back. He judged the wind and elevation, and let fly.
He knew he would have just this one shot.
Raven never heard the arrow. He rode along, slightly hunched over the animal’s neck.
Then the arrow struck. It slammed into Raven’s back, between the shoulder blades, punching through the leather armour he wore.
Tal saw him go limp and drop from the horse. It was such a boneless fall that Tal had no need to walk over to the body to know that Raven was, at last, dead.
Tal’s leg collapsed. He felt as if all will and strength had been drained out of him. His horse was unconcernedly cropping the grass a hundred yards away. In a minute, he would try to get her. First, he must rest a little. Just sit and catch his breath. Then he’d deal with his leg and shoulder.
His last thought before he fainted was that was the best shot he’d ever made.
He awoke to the smell of food and coffee. He was lying under blankets next to a wagon. Someone had bound his shoulder and leg. It was night.
“Coffee?”
Tal turned his head to see John Creed sitting next to a fire, while half a dozen men from his company were gathered around a larger campfire a few yards away.
Tal used his uninjured arm to lever himself up. He leaned back against the wagon’s wheel. “Thanks,” he said.
Creed handed him an earthenware cup, and while Tal sipped the bitter brew, said, “Good thing we happened along. You damn near bled to death.’’
“How’d you find me?’’
Creed laughed. “It wasn’t hard.” He handed Tal a still-warm cut of meat wrapped in trail bread and Tal discovered that he was ravenous. He bolted the food down while Creed continued. “You littered your trail with corpses.” He pointed north. “We left the village at daybreak, maybe seven hours after you took out after Raven.” He scratched his chin. “Fact is, I figured you for a corpse yourself, but you did well, Tal Hawkins. When I saw the first body, me and a couple of the lads hurried on ahead, to see if you needed a hand. You didn’t.” He chuckled again. “You most certainly didn’t.
“Too bad you couldn’t see the expression on Raven’s face when I rolled him over. He died very surprised.” Creed chuckled. “Your arrow was sticking through him, and he had his chin down like he was looking to see what just popped through his chest. Bastard never had enough of a sense of humor, if you ask me.” He stood up and pointed some distance away. “We found you over there, just about done in. I patched you up and the wagon and the rest of the boys got here two hours ago. You can ride in the wagon until we get to Coastal Watch. That leg is nasty, but if you can keep it from getting infected, you’ll be fine.’’
Tal chewed his last mouthful of food and asked, “Where’s the other wagon?’’
“I left it at the village. We didn’t need two, and I didn’t think you’d mind giving it to the Orodon.’’
“No, I don’t.’’
“They’re singing some songs about you around the fires, Tal. You’re a damned hero to those folks.’’
Tal didn’t know what to say. He thought about his own people and wondered what his life would be like had a band of men like his mercenaries ridden to Village Kulaam ten days before Raven’s band and the men of Olasko had turned up. He sat back and closed his eyes. “I’m no hero. I just had to take care of some business.”
“Well, that you did,” said Creed.
“Thanks for taking care of me, John.’’
“You’ve the makings of a fine captain, Tal. If you need men, you’ll have no trouble getting them. You’re fair, take care of things, and you pay better than most.’’
“If I ever need a strong right hand, John Creed, you’ll be the first I call.” Tal put down the cup and settled back. Sleep was coming again, he knew: his body needed rest to heal.
“You call, and I’ll come,” said the mercenary with a grin. Then, looking off into the night, he asked, “What next?’’
Tal gazed at the stars above. “Some rest. Then more business.”