‘Rocks fall down hills all the time. Besides, it’ll take her a few seconds to pick us out among the boulders. By then your arrow will spit her.’
‘It had better.’
‘Don’t suppose you can help it on its way with magery?’
‘My magery isn’t that subtle.’
‘Let’s hope your aim is.’
Rix drew back the phial-headed arrow to the fullest extent of the string and sighted on Orlyk’s middle, then moved his head so Tobry could correct the aim.
Tobry felt the curve of the bow, the tension of the string, then nudged the tail of the arrow slightly down, slightly across.
‘Your hand’s shaking,’ said Rix. Tobry was normally iron in a crisis.
As Tobry steadied his hand, a drop of sweat ran down his cheek.
What if the wrythen can get to him when he’s awake? What if he possesses Tobry now and makes him aim for Tali instead of Orlyk? Rix could not tell from his angle.
Forcing himself to dismiss worries he could do nothing about, he visualised the arrow flying all the way to the target. Tali’s life rested in the steadiness of his hands, possibly the survival of Hightspall as well, and Rix was rock-calm. He might not be the sharpest sword in the armoury but action was what he was made for.
Tobry nudged the arrow with a fingernail. ‘Perfect. Tossing the stone,
It clacked twenty yards across the slope. Orlyk stopped and turned, looking up.
Rix fired, picked up the second arrow in one smooth movement and fixed on the sinewy woman. Tobry adjusted aim for the slightly heavier arrow. Rix fired, took the third arrow, fired again.
Orlyk was turning away when the phial smashed against her upper chest and the shaft of the arrow buried itself deep. She fell, alternately hurling her arms out and snapping them tight around her. The sinewy woman with the glass tube was snatching at something on her belt when the second arrow speared through her belly muscles from side to side. Her face twisted, but she hurled the object high and barbed sparks exploded upwards from it like a skyrocket — a call for help.
She was crumbling now, holding her belly, though she managed to skid an apple-sized object across the ground and thick, opaque smoke belched out. The third arrow skimmed Tinyhead’s forehead and Rix cursed. It would have killed anyone with a normal-sized head.
The rear guard was turning to run for the boulders when the fourth arrow skewered him in the buttocks, doubling him over like a rooster with a single tail feather and driving him to all-fours.
‘This isn’t good,’ said Tobry, leaping up in a scatter of gravel.
Only three hits, none of the five killed, and the two on the ground could not be seen through the low- hanging smoke.
‘Where’s Tali?’ Rix had lost sight of her. He ran.
The uninjured guard yanked the man with the tail arrow to his feet, shouting and waving a long knife. The injured man drew a curved knife and began to creep about, looking for Tali.
‘Tinyhead’s dragged her behind the boulders,’ choked Tobry, who was yards ahead. ‘Come
Rix’s inner calm had vanished. Tinyhead could be knifing her right now. Compounding his problems, the troop at the other end of the isthmus was running. They had seen the signal. He lengthened his stride to pass Tobry and thundered down the rubble slope, bow in hand. Firing on the run from this distance would mean wasting his last arrow, but as soon as he was within range he would take Tinyhead down. Rix prayed that the man had not slain Tali already.
A gust cleared the smoke at the front of the line. Orlyk was still convulsing on the ground, almost tying her stocky body into knots. How long would she be disabled? It would depend how much hallucinogenic water had touched her, and she might recover suddenly. Rix prayed that the water had been carried deep into her bloodstream.
‘Can you see Tali?’ panted Tobry, now five yards behind.
Rix did not answer. He lacked the breath.
‘Watch out for woman — glass tube,’ yelled Tobry. ‘Think she’s a
Chills spiralled down Rix’s back. ‘A what?’
He could not make out Tobry’s reply. Rix sprang over a corrugated outcrop of orange rock. While in the air he saw Tinyhead struggling with Tali near the boulders, then the flash of sunlight, as if off a knife.
Rix could not shoot — he was as likely to hit her. The sinewy pothecky was standing now, heaving out the arrow. She was one tough woman. Blood was pouring from both sides of her belly and the pain must be extreme, but she thumbed something into the end of the glass tube and swung it around towards Tali. Rix knew it was intended to kill. He aimed his last arrow and fired on the run, but could his arrow reach his target before the pothecky blew her deadly dart?
The arrow thumped into her upper arm. She swayed, almost dropped the tube but caught it again and began to raise it. Could nothing take her down? She lowered it, looking around in puzzlement, then slumped to the ground.
Tali was out of sight behind the boulders. Rix leapt another rock and saw Tinyhead stagger out from the other side of the boulders, blood running from his nose and right cheek. He reached out towards the distant mountains, as if in supplication, then swung back towards Tali’s hiding place.
Rix could not stop him; he had no arrows left. He dropped the useless bow, wrenched out his sword and ran harder. Tali appeared from behind the boulders.
‘Take the guards,’ Rix yelled back to Tobry. ‘I’ll deal with Tinyhead.’
But he had vanished in dense smoke, and so had Tali. Rix pounded down to the track, skidding on gravel, bounding over rocks, his blood roaring in his ears and his teeth bared. With his speed and bulk he must be a frightening sight. He hoped so.
The uninjured guard was almost as tall, though slightly built, and armed with a short spear with a jagged tip. He braced himself and thrust it out towards Rix. It would be difficult to avoid but Rix did not falter. He hurtled towards the fellow and, as he moved the tip of the spear to track Rix, Rix sprang and swung hard.
The spear point was only inches from his belly when his blade sheared through the shaft and sent the severed half spinning. Something thumped against his chest. Rix doubled up his legs and kicked out, taking the guard under the chin and driving his head back so hard that his neck snapped. He tumbled backwards and did not move again.
Rix landed awkwardly and felt a sharp pain in his chest. The spear point was embedded there, half an inch deep. He twisted it out and swept his gaze around the battlefield. Orlyk was still down. The pothecky was swaying on her knees, trying to pull out the arrow in her shoulder.
Tali was backing this way around the boulders, retreating from Tinyhead. The last guard crept towards her, the feathered arrow in his buttocks wagging like a puppy’s tail. He raised his sword for a blow that would take Tali’s head off, and she did not know he was there.
‘Tali, behind you!’
Rix sent the half spear spinning at the man. The shaft cracked into the back of his head, though not hard enough to do any damage. Rix ran.
Tali turned late, saw the looming guard and let out a little cry. He took a swipe at her pale stomach, which showed though her torn garments. She gave a convulsive backwards heave and he missed by layers of skin. She threw something at his eyes, a handful of dust or grit, but the pitiful weapon had no effect.
The guard went for her again and Tali, trying to scramble away, stumbled. Rix could not reach her in time; he was still twenty yards away.
‘Hoy, you!’ he trumpeted, hoping to startle the man into turning, which would gain him a few seconds.
The guard was well trained. He half-turned, then swung back to kill Tali. Rix’s remaining option was pure recklessness but he did not hesitate. Relying on the lightning judgement of hand and eye, he swung his sword sideways and let it fly, willing it to go true. He had never thrown a sword before, for that was suicide on the battlefield. And the guard was very close to her.
