7
Beyond the gate, all was dark and silent. Grass whispered underfoot, and there were trees ahead-and a strong smell of recent wood smoke. Belkram took a pace forward, then crouched and leapt warily aside, out of the light. Itharr came through, saw Belkram's move, and turned toward the other side of the gate to do the same.
Then both Harpers heard the unmistakable deep tung of a crossbow firing. Itharr whipped around to follow Belkram and dived frantically to the ground. The first bolt whistled past his head as he fell. Then the night was full of hissing death, biting at them as they rolled, leapt, and ran to the left toward the trees.
A bolt from right in front of them came leaping out of the night. Itharr twisted desperately aside. The missile drew a line of red fire across his chest and shoulder, and was gone. Itharr snarled out his pain as he raced on. More quarrels sought his life, whirring past like angry wasps. He heard them clattering on rocks off to his left, and shot a glance that way. A mountain rose up beside them, and then he was following Belkram along its base, sprinting into the concealing trees.
A short scream ahead told him Belkram had opened a way through at least one defender. Itharr ran faster. To think he'd once dreamed of glorious adventures as a Harper, dreams that involved (between parties with beauteous women) charging castles single-handed! Dreams where no arrows ever struck hi-
Itharr grunted as a crossbow bolt struck him in the shoulder, picking him off his feet and hurling him a pace or two toward the rocks with the force of its flight.
He landed hard on his good arm, sprang up-spit on the pain; his life depended on getting up! — and ran on, hoping he'd not drop his sword from the hand he could no longer feel.
'After them!' Nordryn snarled. At the Sword's dubious look he almost shrieked his next words, so great was his fury. 'Get them! They can't use any magic. I've cloaked them with a spell of my own! Go on!'
Around him, Wolves drew blades, but they looked to the Sword for orders, not him. The Sword looked at him again, long and coldly, then nodded his head at the fleeing men.
With a shout and a breath of creaking leather and flashing steel, the Wolves boiled up out of the trees and were gone.
Nordryn looked at the Sword, eyes hot. 'I'll remember this,' he spat.
The veteran swordsman looked back at him steadily, his eyes the same hue as the raised tip of his drawn sword. 'See that you do,' he replied softly.
'Where are we, d'you think?' Itharr panted as they raced along.
Belkram turned at the sound of his friend's voice. 'Are you hurt?' He reached out a hand, swinging his fellow Harper around sharply.
The bolt protruding from Itharr's shoulder struck a nearby branch; he made a choked sound and stumbled back. Belkram's searching hands caught him, located the bolt, and felt the shoulder it was buried in.
Itharr tried to cough and whimper at the same time, and failed. He settled for making another little choking noise and fell down.
Belkram sighed, laid down his blade, and tore out the bolt in one swift, hard jerk. Itharr shook once under his hands and lay still.
The taller Harper thought for a moment, then rose from his wounded friend and ran lightly back the way they'd come, melting into the cloaking gloom of a tree as a warrior trotted cautiously forward, glancing around in the dim night.
The woods were full of armed Wolves cautiously advancing in the darkness. The lives of two very outnumbered Harpers now depended on stealth and silence, so Belkram reached out with a long arm, slapped the man across the mouth from behind, and jerked hard. The man's head twisted sharply, and Belkram put all his strength into pulling. There was a brief crunching noise… and the man became limp and very heavy.
Belkram staggered, lowering the warrior as quietly as possible. A sudden crackling disturbance and a triumphant yell erupted nearby. Steel rang, men cursed, and there was a groan of pain.
'You fool,' someone said weakly. 'Can't you tell-?' The words ended in a gasp, followed by the heavy crash of a man falling heavily and helplessly through dead-wood and living tanglethorns.
Belkram slipped cautiously back toward Itharr, only to hear branches whip and crackle close behind. He spun, blade up, and was almost knocked over by someone blundering past.
The ranger thrust with his steel and felt it turn aside on armor. His onrushing target gave a surprised yell and turned. Belkram saw a momentary flash of teeth in the darkness, put his sword tip there, and drove his blade in hard. The man crumpled and fell without uttering another sound.
This time the landing was not quiet, and Belkram hastened away. This game of cat and mouse was all too apt to turn against them swiftly, if these warriors brought torches or mage-conjured light.
He couldn't answer Itharr's question; he had no idea where they were. Perhaps if he could get safely out from under the trees long enough to get a good look at the stars… Well, they were somewhere not too different in climate from Shadowdale. Somewhere with mountains. Somewhere with at least one Harper-and, he hoped, Elminster-nearby.
In front of him, he saw the flash of steel rising from the ground. He danced to a halt and hissed, 'Itharr?'
'The same,' came the weak reply. 'Did you have to be so-agghhh! I'm bleeding all over everything.'
'I've been rather busy,' Belkram whispered carefully. 'Use your blade as a crutch or put it away and lean on me, and with Tymora's kiss we'll get out of here!'
Itharr opted for the latter, and they hurried on together as quietly as possible. Steel still rang around them from time to time. Here and there in the night-cloaked woods, men crashed through brush and fell into unseen holes and over the trunks of fallen trees.
'A fine night out they're having,' Itharr gasped, after awhile. 'Could we stop for a breath or two?'
'Aye,' Belkram murmured into his ear. 'How d'you feel?'
'Fresh and fine,' Itharr said sarcastically. 'The night is young, brave sir, and all that.' He sat down heavily on a tree stump, which promptly collapsed in a damp ruin of fungus and punky wood, dumping him onto the ground. He sighed.
That mournful sound made a few sputters of mirth escape Belkram. The taller Harper shook for a few moments and then leaned near, still chuckling. 'I'd like to try to get back to that clearing. We should be able to see the gate's light. We could go around it, staying in the trees, and look for paths and such. These guards must have a barracks somewhere, where we can get food and mayhap even healing quaffs, for your shoulder. I was in Luskan, once. The idiots there had a barracks with a flat, unguarded roof. We rested above them, all the while they turned the city inside out for us, and hid most of their gear while they were out tramping around.'
'Very nice,' Itharr said. 'Now help me up.'
They went into the night together. Belkram had to use his sword only twice before they saw the amber light again.
'Now what, sir?' The Sword might have been a chamber servant back in Zhentil Keep.
Nordryn shrugged. 'Wait here. Our duty is still to guard the gate while the others seek out these intruders.'
The Sword nodded. 'As you command,' he said expressionlessly. Nordryn looked at him and then all around and found, with sinking fear, that the two of them stood alone by the gate. Their men were all blundering about in the woods. A sudden outbreak of shouting came from the trees, followed by a scream that ended in a dying wail.
'Ah,' Nordryn said with satisfaction. 'They've got one, at least.'
The Sword raised an eyebrow. 'Someone died, aye. In the trees, Lord, it could be one of us killing another just as easily as those we're after. You can't tell… until it's too late.'
Nordryn looked at him. 'Oh, no?' he scoffed. 'Are you telling me Zhentilar soldiers can fight only in the full light of day?'
