Nightrunners 03 - Traitor's Moon (68 page)

"Alec!" Seregil threw himself off his horse to follow but four more ambushers leaped from the scant brush just above him and wrestled him to the ground. He fought wildly, desperate to escape, to find Alec and get him away—

If he were still alive

—but he was overmatched. His captors pinned him on his belly, grinding his face into the dirt, then flipped him onto his back. Someone grasped him roughly by the hair and yanked his head back. A grey-haired man leaned over him, dagger in hand, and Seregil closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable slash across his throat.

Instead, the man sliced open the front of Seregil's tunic, the tip of the knife scraping across the steel rings of the mail shirt beneath. Reaching in, he yanked the chain free and held up the Corruth's ring. A younger man leaned into view, but before Seregil could get a proper look at him, the side of his head exploded in pain and the world went black.

Fear blotted out all else as Alec hit the ground and continued falling, tumbling head over heels. He'd always had a horror of falling, and doing it blind drove him into a panic. He fetched up at last against something that crushed the air from his lungs. Only then, as he lay sprawled on his side, bruised all over and gasping for air, was he able to give proper attention to the fiery pain lancing through his left thigh and right shoulder, and to a stabbing sensation just under his ribs. This last proved to be the hilt of his sword, caught underneath him at an awkward angle.

Thank the Four for that, at least,
he thought, shifting the weapon a little so he could breathe.

Somewhere above he heard the sounds of men calling back
and
forth to one another, apparently looking for him.

Magic or no magic, he couldn't stand waiting like some blind, wounded animal. Tearing off the hated blindfold, he blinked at the sudden brightness and saw—ferns.

He could see perfectly well, after all, though the slight prickle of magic across his skin told him he was not clear of the guarded zone yet.

Shouts from up the slope warned that there was no time to ponder the matter further. Raising his head a little, he found himself lying in a dense patch of tall, feathery fern at the base of an ancient birch tree. From here, he could make out the trail several hundred yards above him and a few men moving about there. Outlaws, he guessed, seeing that they wore no sen'gai. As he'd feared, a few others were making their way down in his general direction.

His right shoulder throbbed again as he ducked down. Freshly scarred chain showed through a rent in the arm of his tunic where an arrow had scored a glancing blow.

The wound in his leg was more serious. A shaft had pierced his thigh and lodged there. Sometime during his fall the feathered end had snapped off, but the steel head still protruded a scant few inches below his lower trouser lacing. Not giving himself time to think, he grasped the shaft just below the head and yanked it out.

Then he fainted.

When he came to, someone was dragging him over rough ground by his bad shoulder. The pain in his leg had risen to exquisite intensity and he greyed out again. When his mind cleared, he was lying mercifully still, cradled in strong arms against a hard chest.

"Seregil, I thought—" But the eyes close above his were hazel green, not grey.

"Stay quiet," Nyal ordered, peering up over the edge of the gully where they lay. He was bareheaded and wore dull-colored clothing that blended in with the evening shadows lengthening across the forest floor.

Footsteps crunched over dead leaves nearby, then faded away in the opposite direction.

After a moment Nyal crouched down beside him and checked the wound on Alec's leg. "It's clean, but it needs binding. Stay here and keep your eyes shut if you can."

"I can see," Alec told him.

The Ra'basi blinked in surprise, but there was no time for

explanations. Bent low, he hurried off down the gully, vanishing quickly in the shadowy underbrush.

The ambushers seemed to have given up on finding him for the moment. Looking up the slope, Alec saw no sign of movement. A few moments later Nyal was back with his bow and a large wayfarer's pouch.

"It's not bleeding too badly," he muttered, pulling out a flask and a plain sen'gai. "Here, have a pull on this," he ordered, handing Alec the flask.

The strong spirit burned Alec's throat, and he took a second gulp, then craned his neck, nervously keeping watch while Nyal bound hasty compresses over the arrow holes.

"There, that should hold you for now." Nyal clapped him on the shoulder. "Now, let's see if you can walk on it. Seregil needs us." Standing, he extended his hand.

Alec grasped it and pulled himself up. His leg still hurt like hell, but the drink, together with the pressure of the bandage, made it just bearable. "Who tracked us, besides you?"

"No one but me," the Ra'basi replied, supporting Alec with a hand under his arm. "No other tracks cross yours. They were waiting for you. I'm only sorry I didn't catch up with you sooner. They were probably trying to kill your horse when your leg got in the way."

"And this?" Alec said doubtfully, showing him the tear in his tunic.

"Not everyone is as good a shot as you, my friend."

Alec was sweating with pain by the time they reached the ground just below the level of the trail. Lying on their bellies, they peered up over the edge and found it deserted.

"Stay here," Nyal whispered. Keeping low, he darted up over the edge of the bank, heading for Alec's dead horse. A man sprang from a low clump of brush and rushed at the Ra'basi.

"Look out!" Alec called.

Nyal whirled and threw himself sideways, rolling clear. The other man dove at him again, only to catch a sharp blow to the face that felled him like an ox. He went down without a sound.

Nyal tied and gagged the man, then coolly returned to his task, pulling Alec's bow and quiver free of the saddle. The bowstring had snapped in the fall and swung uselessly from one tip as Nyal scrambled back down to where he waited.

"I hope you have an extra," he said, thrusting the Radly into Alec's hands. "Mine won't fit this."

Alec took a fresh string from his belt pouch and stood to bend the bow. Bracing one limb tip against his foot, he pushed down on the upper one and let out a grunt as pain flared in his shoulder again. Nyal took the bow and fitted the string into place.

"Can you draw?"

Alec flexed his arm again. "I think so."
                
'

"And you can see?" Nyal said, shaking his head in amazement.

"It's something to do with the Bash'wai, I think," Alec offered, thinking of the strange farewell they'd given him.

"They certainly must have taken a liking to you. Come on. Let's find Seregil."

Dusk was coming on quickly now, and they spotted the yellow gleam of firelight high above the slide area choking the pass. Skirting the ruined trail, Nyal led him up a winding track that brought them out on a shelf of rock overlooking the top of a cliff. Eight men stood on a level stretch of ground near the edge. Several held torches, giving Alec enough light to shoot by. Behind them Seregil slumped on his knees and elbows, hands bound in front of him. His head was down, hair in his face. A man stood over him with his own sword while the others argued among themselves.

"It's not right!" one man said angrily.

"It's not your place to question," a younger man retorted, speaking with the authority of a leader. "There's no dishonor in it."

So even Aurenfaie bandits, fretted over atui? Alec eased an arrow from his quiver and set it to the string. Beside him, Nyal did the same. Just then, several of the men threw up their arms and walked a few paces off. Seregil fought weakly as two others grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him toward the cliff, clearly meaning to throw him over.

Alec brought his bow up and let fly, praying the shaft didn't find Seregil instead. He needn't have worried. His aim was off and it struck the ground harmlessly just in front of Seregil's would-be killers. Startled, they jumped back and Seregil twisted free, scrambling back from the edge. Most of the ambushers scattered, ducking for cover. Nyal hit two of them before they'd gotten ten feet. The leader grabbed for Seregil and Alec shot again, this time hitting his mark square in the chest. Seregil saw his chance and dashed away into the shadows.

Alec managed to take down one more man before the rest disappeared.

"This way." Nyal led him down another rock-strewn track, supporting him when Alec's bad leg gave out. The sound of horses came to them on the quiet night air as they reached the cliff, echoing up from the direction of the main trail.

"Damn, they got away!"

"How many?" wondered Nyal.

"Enough to be trouble if we don't get out of here fast," said a familiar voice overhead.
                                      
., <

Alec looked up to find Seregil half hidden behind a boulder. He emerged and slid down the loose slope to join them, hands still tied but clutched now around the hilt of his sword.

"I take it that you can see?" he asked, giving Alec a thoughtful look.

Alec shrugged.

"How many were there?" Nyal asked.

"I didn't have a chance to take a count before they knocked me out," Seregil replied, leading them back to where the dead lay. There were five bodies.

"Just our luck, running into bandits," Alec muttered.

Seregil rubbed at a new bruise developing over his right cheekbone. "They did have the good grace to debate about killing me. Some of them didn't like the idea. They thought they'd killed you, though, Alec, and so did I, for that matter. When I saw you go off your horse like that—" Extending a hand to Nyal, he said almost grudgingly, "I guess I should be glad to see you. It seems we owe you our lives."

Nyal clasped hands with him. "Perhaps you'll repay me by speaking to Beka on my behalf. I imagine she's still cursing my name."

"So you found her, too?" Alec groaned, feeling a fool to be so easily tracked after all their planning. "Where is she?"

"Not as far away as she thought. We caught up with her at dawn this morning, less than ten miles from here."

"We? " Seregil's eyes narrowed.

"The Iia'sidra sent me with a search party," Nyal replied. "I volunteered, actually. When it became clear that others suspected where you might go, I thought it would be better if I found you first. Tracking her, I saw where you parted ways and guessed that you might make for this smuggler's pass, not knowing it was blocked. I made certain that my compatriots were occupied with her, then came looking for you."

"Our little ruse didn't fool you?"

Nyal grinned, "Fortunately for you, my companions don't have quite the eye for tracking that I do. An unladen horse walks a bit differently than one carrying a man. You won't get through this way, you know."

"So I see," Seregil said, shaking his head. "I should have guessed about the pass. I just assumed the villages had died for lack of trade."

He bent over one of the bodies and pulled his poniard free from the dead man's chest. "I've managed to keep my promise, Adzriel," he muttered, wiping the blade clean on the dead man's tunic and slipping it back into his boot. Bending over another, he emptied the man's purse onto the ground.

"Ah, here it is!" he exclaimed, holding up Corruth's ring. "The chain's gone. Oh, well, what wisdom forbids, necessity dictates." He slipped it onto his finger and went on with his task.

Leaving the bodies for the crows, they made a circuit around the area and found three horses tethered in a stand of trees up the slope from the trail, still saddled.

"You take these," said Nyal. "Mine is hidden down near where I found you, Alec. There's another trail a mile or so back down the trail that will take you over to the coast. I'll set you on it, then head back to report that I found no sign of you. I don't suppose that will win me any favor with Beka, but it's a start."

Seregil laid a hand on his arm. "You haven't asked why we're out here."

The Ra'basi gave him an unreadable look. "If you wanted me to know, you'd have told me. I trust enough in your honor, and in Beka's, to know that you must have good reason for risking your life like this."

"Then you really don't know?" asked Alec.

"Even my ears aren't that long."

"Can you trust the men who have Beka?" Alec asked, anxious for Nyal to be off.

"Yes. They'll keep her safe. Hurry now! There are others hunting you."

"You're really letting us go?" Seregil asked again, unable to believe it.

The Ra'basi smiled. "I told you, I never intended to capture you. I came to protect Beka if I could, and for her sake I help you now."

"What about atui? Where's your loyalty to your clan, to the Iia'sidra?"

Nyal shrugged, his smile now tinged with sadness. "Those of us

who travel far from our fai'thasts see the world differently than those who don't, wouldn't you say?"

Seregil gave the man a last, searching look, then nodded. "Show us this trail of yours, Nyal."