Her long canines ripped into the horse’s neck, the wolven’s weight flipping both animal and rider to the ground. Camlin heard bones breaking, then screaming. The horsemen behind milled on the path, unable to pass the mass of horse and rider and wolven.
‘Move!’ a voice screamed in Camlin’s ear, then Dath was shoving him to the side. There was a shuddering in the ground, the wild neigh of a horse as a warrior drove his mount up the bank at them. Dath leaped for cover, tripping on a root as the horse’s head and chest burst through the thin foliage they had been hiding behind. The warrior blinked as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, then snarled when he saw Dath sprawled on the ground. He raised his sword.
Camlin clutched for an arrow, drew and fired at the looming figure, so close he could almost touch the horse. His arrow hit the man in the face, snapping his head back. Teeth, blood and gore showered Camlin as the warrior hurtled backwards, one foot catching in a stirrup. His corpse hung limp as the horse lurched forwards, dragging the dead warrior through the undergrowth.
‘Are you hurt?’ Camlin asked Dath. The lad shook his head, took Camlin’s arm and staggered upright.
‘Time to finish this,’ Camlin said, slinging his bow across his shoulder, drawing his sword and stepping out of the trees. There was one warrior left here, dismounted, trying to help a comrade trapped beneath a fallen horse. Camlin slithered down loose earth on the ridge, heard Dath following. He glanced down the track and saw Storm, who had moved from the horse to its rider, her teeth clamped about his throat. The two other horsemen drove their mounts past the wolven, kicking them at Gar and Corban.
Gar moved faster than Camlin’s eyes could follow. There was the flash of iron in sunlight and then a horse was screaming, front legs collapsing as it ploughed head and chest into the ground.
Then Camlin was at the foot of the ridge, fixing his eyes on the warrior before him. The man had been unable to free his comrade from the dead horse he was trapped beneath, and by the look of it the pinned man would not be going far anyway, his leg twisted at an unnatural angle.
Camlin circled left, signalled for Dath to go right, then, in the instant that the warrior was sizing them up, Camlin surged forwards. He struck fast and hard at the warrior’s head. His first two blows were hastily blocked, the warrior retreating. Then he stumbled and Camlin hacked his blade between the man’s neck and shoulder. Bone crunched and blood spurted. He wrenched his sword free and the man slumped to the ground.
Camlin swung around, marched to the warrior trapped by his dead horse and slammed his sword into his chest. He looked up, saw Dath staring at him, wide-eyed.
‘Strike first,’ he said, ‘else you might not get a chance to strike at all. That’s a Darkwood education.’
Dath gulped.
Down the track a horse neighed.
One rider was still mounted, swinging a sword at Corban, who was ducking, trying to pull him from his mount. Gar was on the far side, moving in. Storm was circling the horse, crouched low, about to leap. The rider saw his doom approaching, kicked frantically at his mount. The horse leaped forwards, Corban diving out of the way, and then it was galloping down the track.
Camlin broke into a run, unslinging his bow. He reached the horse that Storm had fallen upon, rested a foot on its flank and drew an arrow, its feathers touching his ear. For a moment he tracked the escaping horseman, pulled in a deep breath, held it, then released the arrow. It arced high, dipped, and the rider stiffened, toppling backwards onto the soft ground. The horse ran on a dozen paces, then slowed, began cropping grass.
‘That shot was amazing,’ Dath breathed.
‘I was aiming for the horse,’ Camlin said with a rueful grin.
We’ve taken too long, Camlin thought. They were almost back to their makeshift camp.
They had dragged the corpses of the slain warriors into the trees, Camlin setting Dath to retrieving as many of their arrows as he could find.
‘Do we need to?’ Dath had asked.
‘Once you’ve made arrows of your own you’ll never leave one behind that you didn’t have to. And we may be on this road a long time – what happens if we run out?’
Dath had thought about that and nodded. Then they had rounded up the horses and hobbled them a good distance from the track. That had taken the most time, but if they hadn’t done it one of the animals at least would have wandered back to the encampment, rousing suspicion and an angry pursuit far quicker than if the horses were hidden. Without Gar it would not have happened at all; he had a way with horses.
After that they had all but run back to their camp. They needed to get back on their boat and put some distance between them and the bristling warband that would certainly be sent after them. It was just a matter of time.
Marrock stepped out from behind a tree. ‘What’s happened?’ he asked, frowning as he looked at their faces.
‘We ran into . . . some . . . company,’ Camlin breathed. ‘We need to leave.’
‘How far behind you?’ Marrock said, scanning the trees.