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Authors: Patrice Sarath
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paralyzed with indecision. She couldn’t allow herself to be caught. She needed to go for help. But she couldn’t leave Yare.
“Well, hurry it up. We’re almost packed up.”
The first law of succoring the soldier’s god was never to ask for help. Ask for honor, ask for bravery, ask for victory, sure, but never help.
Soldier’s god, soldier’s god, give me a weapon, Kate thought, cursing herself for not even carrying a knife. Everyone carries a knife here, why not me?
Something touched her back and Kate started and turned. Her scream strangled and died. Whoever it was–she got barely a glimpse of wild hair and a reflection of his eye in the faint light–put his hand over his own mouth. Quiet . She calmed herself, nodded. So she had an ally.
The curious man stopped about ten feet away from them, peering into the woods, but whether he lost his nerve or his initiative, he went no farther.
“Nothing,” he called out, turning back to the men.
“Get back here, then,” the ringleader ordered.
Kate watched him go. Her ally put his mouth to her ear, whispering, his voice light. He sounded young.
“They’re waiting for the search parties to give up. Then they’ll take the boy and go.”
She nodded, knowing he could feel her response. All of these men were armed, and lightly armored, from the shape of the silhouettes against the fire. If they ran into one of the unarmed search parties, like Drabian and the stableboys or the householders, they would take them apart. And if she tried to go for help now it would make too much noise. Would they just kill Yare rather than be caught? She didn’t want to risk it.
“How can we stop them?” She breathed it more to herself than to her comrade.
He nudged her again and she turned and looked. He tapped a short pikestaff, only about three feet long but with a wicked iron point lashed to the end. Well, that was something, she thought. Primitive, but something. But one against five? Two against five, sure, but she wasn’t armed. Kate thought hard, formulating a plan. They had the element of surprise, one weapon, and Allegra. Not much, but the soldier’s god helped those who helped themselves, even if they had to be crazy to do it.
“I’m going to create a diversion,” she said. “I’ll try to take out as many as I can.” Like bowling, she thought. “You’ll have to do the rest.”
She didn’t wait to hear if he agreed or protested. She squirmed backward, letting the undergrowth fall back into place.
This was different from stealing the jeep last winter. That was a stunt born out of crazy adrenalin and a stubborn pride. This time, every instinct wanted her to run away. It took all of her willpower to propel herself forward.
Allegra was where she had left her, her bulk and oaty aroma reassuring in the darkness. Kate mounted, cursing the lightly creaking saddle, and gathered the reins, keeping tight contact. Allegra coiled underneath her, settling back on her haunches. Kate took a breath and let it out in a war cry.
The mare exploded out of the woods at the kidnappers and she had the impression of bodies tumbling out of her way. Still screaming, Kate jumped the mare over the small fire. Allegra took it in a tight, collected leap and landed on the other side, sliding to a stop on her haunches. Kate turned her in a circle and went after one of the men. He struggled to bring up his sword but Allegra bowled him over before he could get it free of the scabbard. She could feel the collision as Allegra knocked him down and went sick to her stomach for a moment.
She had very little time. They would be organized in a few more seconds.
“Terrick!” Kate cried out, hoping her voice would carry through the night, over the sound of the river and the rushing falls. “Terrick!”
Another yell rose up, and her mystery ally came screeching down to join the battle. Hair stood up on the nape of Kate’s neck at the sound, and Allegra rose onto her hindquarters, her
“Well, hurry it up. We’re almost packed up.”
The first law of succoring the soldier’s god was never to ask for help. Ask for honor, ask for bravery, ask for victory, sure, but never help.
Soldier’s god, soldier’s god, give me a weapon, Kate thought, cursing herself for not even carrying a knife. Everyone carries a knife here, why not me?
Something touched her back and Kate started and turned. Her scream strangled and died. Whoever it was–she got barely a glimpse of wild hair and a reflection of his eye in the faint light–put his hand over his own mouth. Quiet . She calmed herself, nodded. So she had an ally.
The curious man stopped about ten feet away from them, peering into the woods, but whether he lost his nerve or his initiative, he went no farther.
“Nothing,” he called out, turning back to the men.
“Get back here, then,” the ringleader ordered.
Kate watched him go. Her ally put his mouth to her ear, whispering, his voice light. He sounded young.
“They’re waiting for the search parties to give up. Then they’ll take the boy and go.”
She nodded, knowing he could feel her response. All of these men were armed, and lightly armored, from the shape of the silhouettes against the fire. If they ran into one of the unarmed search parties, like Drabian and the stableboys or the householders, they would take them apart. And if she tried to go for help now it would make too much noise. Would they just kill Yare rather than be caught? She didn’t want to risk it.
“How can we stop them?” She breathed it more to herself than to her comrade.
He nudged her again and she turned and looked. He tapped a short pikestaff, only about three feet long but with a wicked iron point lashed to the end. Well, that was something, she thought. Primitive, but something. But one against five? Two against five, sure, but she wasn’t armed. Kate thought hard, formulating a plan. They had the element of surprise, one weapon, and Allegra. Not much, but the soldier’s god helped those who helped themselves, even if they had to be crazy to do it.
“I’m going to create a diversion,” she said. “I’ll try to take out as many as I can.” Like bowling, she thought. “You’ll have to do the rest.”
She didn’t wait to hear if he agreed or protested. She squirmed backward, letting the undergrowth fall back into place.
This was different from stealing the jeep last winter. That was a stunt born out of crazy adrenalin and a stubborn pride. This time, every instinct wanted her to run away. It took all of her willpower to propel herself forward.
Allegra was where she had left her, her bulk and oaty aroma reassuring in the darkness. Kate mounted, cursing the lightly creaking saddle, and gathered the reins, keeping tight contact. Allegra coiled underneath her, settling back on her haunches. Kate took a breath and let it out in a war cry.
The mare exploded out of the woods at the kidnappers and she had the impression of bodies tumbling out of her way. Still screaming, Kate jumped the mare over the small fire. Allegra took it in a tight, collected leap and landed on the other side, sliding to a stop on her haunches. Kate turned her in a circle and went after one of the men. He struggled to bring up his sword but Allegra bowled him over before he could get it free of the scabbard. She could feel the collision as Allegra knocked him down and went sick to her stomach for a moment.
She had very little time. They would be organized in a few more seconds.
“Terrick!” Kate cried out, hoping her voice would carry through the night, over the sound of the river and the rushing falls. “Terrick!”
Another yell rose up, and her mystery ally came screeching down to join the battle. Hair stood up on the nape of Kate’s neck at the sound, and Allegra rose onto her hindquarters, her
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