THE ARCHERY LESSON
Every once in a while I manage to convince myself that there’s no such thing as magic, that it’s just charlatans’ trickery. But those next few days as we raced northwards along the Spear, I was reminded that at least some magic must be real.
My evidence was not the massive beast carrying us faster than any horse I’d ever ridden, for if one horse can be large, then surely another can be even larger. Nor was it even the City Sage and his calling of the names, for that might have been simply the product of senility. No, my proof that magic existed was that somehow Shiballe was managing to send men after us, and that they were ahead of us, a hundred miles after leaving Rijou.
The men could not have come from the city, for their horses were nowhere near as fast as Monster, and I refused to believe that Shiballe had placed guards on every road out of Rijou in case we actually managed to escape. No, somehow his mages were communicating with agents in the towns nearby, obviously promising huge rewards for our capture.
Monster could ride at speed without stopping, but we couldn’t. The effects of the Blood Week were taking hold once again. Ethalia’s ministrations had gone a long way towards healing my body, but I was utterly exhausted, deep in every fibre of my body, and I couldn’t ride without having to stop every few hours. And even if I had been able, Aline couldn’t. And so our journey north turned into a deadly game of cat and mouse.
When we did have to fight, Monster was deadly. The rage that defined her was not diminishing with her freedom, although she remained fiercely protective of Aline and only rarely tried to bite my head off. But anything else that got in our way was doomed: the Fey Horse just charged it down, her hooves and teeth deadlier weapons than my rapiers.
The attacks lessened as we put more distance between us and the city, but the very last one nearly ended in disaster. Four of them came at us from the sides, swords drawn. They’d obviously been waiting in the undergrowth lining the road, and they timed their attack perfectly, for Aline and I had been riding for hours and were near asleep in the saddle – if we’d had a saddle, that was.
Monster wanted to fight, but I kept urging her forward, and though she growled in frustration, she kept going straight. As we came over the rise, we saw a man standing in the middle of the road a hundred paces ahead of us, an arrow nocked and aimed at us. Monster roared a challenge and raced even faster, preparing to run the man down, but just a few paces later I recognised him and screamed, ‘Jump! Monster, jump!’ in her ear. Squeezing my thighs as hard as I could, I pulled back on her mane – I’d pay for that later, I was sure of it – but at the last instant the man calmly crouched down and Monster jumped over the top of him. I turned to see Brasti fire arrow after arrow into our pursuers, and by the time he was done two of the men had fallen from their horses and the other two were slumped over in their saddles.
All of them were dead, of course. Show-off.
Aline convinced Monster to stop and I jogged back to where Brasti was retrieving his arrows and searching the men.
‘Stop, Brasti,’ I said.
‘Look, Falcio, these men are mine. You had nothing to do with it, so—’
‘They were trying to kill me,’ I reminded him.
‘Well, you had nothing useful to do with it, anyway. So whatever they have is mine to do with as I choose, and if you don’t like it you can take it up with the local Greatcoat.’
I couldn’t help myself: the fact that he was so irate over my interference overcame me and I hugged him like a fool. ‘Ah, Brasti, Brasti,’ I said, laughing hopelessly.
‘Uh … there, there, now. There, there, Falcio. It’s all right …’ He patted me on the back awkwardly and this sent me into another spasm of laughter.
‘What in the name of Saint Birgid’s frigid cunt is that?’ he exclaimed. He must’ve only now taken in the size of the Greathorse as Aline walked back towards us, Monster in tow and following along as peaceful as could be.
‘That’s Monster,’ Aline said, ‘and I don’t think you’re allowed to say “cunt”.’ She walked past us and looked at the men lying dead on the ground.
‘How did you do that?’ she asked Brasti excitedly. ‘There were four of them and just one of you – you beat them so quickly!’
‘I’m an archer, little girl,’ Brasti said, casually checking his nails. ‘It’s like being a swordsman, only faster.’ He looked at me and added, ‘Come on, Falcio. I’ve been scouting the roads behind us in case you didn’t die. The others will be wondering what’s taking me so long and I don’t want to miss supper.’
‘What’s—?’
‘Happened? Nothing, really. Kest wanted to kill Valiana a few times, but he kept reminding himself that he swore an oath not to do so. I tried to reassure him that you were almost certainly dead, but for some strange reason he seems convinced that you’re unkillable. Trin wasn’t. Feltock caught her trying to steal a horse and ride back to Rijou to help you. Not sure what she hoped to accomplish. Valiana was furious with her but then gradually became ridden with guilt, which I find almost as annoying as when she’s being an arrogant bitch.’
‘Brasti!’ said Aline.
‘Right; sorry. Anyway,’ he went on, ‘Feltock’s in a bit of a strop, and that’s getting worse the further north we go. The rest of the men have softened up, but they do pick up on the captain’s moods. Frankly, the only person I can stand is Trin – at least she’s got a happy disposition.’ He looked at Aline. ‘Of course, there’s a bit more than that to tell – bandit attacks and deeds of derring-do and such. I don’t mind telling you I’ve been quite the hero while you were gone. And that’s not even counting this last bit of saving you and the girl. Ten men attacking on the road, spears at the ready, you screaming for mercy—’
‘Four men,’ Aline said. ‘Don’t lie: it was four men.’
Brasti looked down at her. ‘Little girl, you really don’t know anything about how to tell a story, do you? Well, don’t worry, Falcio, I’ll tell you all about my adventures after supper.’
He looked at me appraisingly. ‘What about you? Anything interesting happen?’