'Leslac doesn't have two battlemares and a kyree to hold off the enraged populace while he makes his escape,' Kethry replied, blotting at a bruise on her forehead. 'She'enedra, we have got to get rid of that damned thing. Either that, or we'd better take up living in a cave for a while.'
Tarma cursed in three languages -- then stopped, as something occurred to her. 'Keth -- how helpless can you look?'
'Pretty damned--' Understanding dawned on the sorceress' face, and she nodded. 'Right. Don't say anything. I don't know how the curse works except that it doesn't seem to read thoughts. Here--' she unburdened herself of everything except Need and the money pouch, and handed it all to Tarma. 'Fur-ball, you follow me on the other side of the hedgerow and call Tarma when the time is right.'
Warrl nodded, and wormed his way through a gap in the hedge to the field on the other side. Kethry left her mare with Tarma and trudged on ahead, trying to look as much like a victim as possible.
The road twisted and turned here, and rose and fell as it went over gently rolling hills. Shortly Tarma was out of sight. Kethry might have been worried -- except that she was feeling too cold, sore, and generally miserable to bother with something as simple as 'worry.' Of course, given the way the talisman worked, the robbers would appear at the worst--
Her foot hit a rock, and her ankle turned under her. She yelped with pain -- she couldn't help it -- and she hit the ground hard enough to add yet more bruises to her already considerable collection.
Her ankle screamed at her. Without a doubt, she'd sprained it, but she felt it gingerly to be sure.
It was already swelling. And she looked up to find herself the focus of five pairs of amused and variously hostile eyes.
'Tain't everyday a cony drops right inta the snare!' one of them said with a nasty chuckle. 'Wot a nice little bunny it is, too!'
The half-formed plan she had made was now in pieces; obviously she wasn't going to be able to run -- or even draw the sword. There was only one thing she could do.
She snatched the purse off her belt and flung it at them.
Two or three coins spun out of the open mouth; three of the men scrabbled after them and retrieved them, shoving them into the front of their shirts, while the man who had spoken snatched the purse out of the mud. Kethry heard a warning howl and ducked, hiding her head in her arms.
Warrl vaulted over the hedge and over her; a breath later Tarma and the mares charged up the road and leaped over her as well.
The bandits scattered, too taken by surprise to make any kind of a stand. Tarma and Warrl pursued them just long enough to make certain that they weren't going to come back any too quickly.
By then, Kethry had levered herself up out of the muddy road using Need as a crutch, and stood there waiting for them.
Tarma pulled her mare up as Kethry's mount came close enough for the sorceress to pull herself into the saddle. Which she did, with no mishap. Proof enough that the curse was following someone else now.
'That was the last of our money,' Tarma said, as Kethry ignored her throbbing ankle in favor of putting as much distance between them and the robbers as she could. 'We're going to be spending the rest of the trip sleeping in haystacks and eating half-raw rabbit.'
Kethry noticed that her ankle hurt less with every moment -- as did her bruises. Need was making up for her misbehavior earlier, it seemed.
And Tarma's nose wasn't red any more either.
'Getting the curse to stick on someone else depends on how much you're willing to sacrifice to get rid of it,' Kethry pointed out. 'I just threw away all our money. The curse is not going to come back. And--' she continued, '--have you noticed that your cold is gone?'
Tarma blinked in surprise, and sniffed experimentally.
'I think,' the Shin'a'in said carefully, 'that this is a wonderful time of the year for camping out. And rabbit is excellent when rare.'
