off his horse.
Ashok let go of his end and braced himself with both hands as the nightmare slammed into a second horse’s body. The animal’s legs folded, and it, too, dumped its rider. Ashok tensed, expecting Neimal’s illusion to fail, but the spell stayed in place, linked to the bone spur necklace.
A sword tip flashed in the pale dawn light and cut a slash in his armor. Burning pain erupted in his flank, and Ashok could spare no more thoughts for the nightmare. He slapped the beast’s flank and teleported just as the nightmare bolted.
Skagi yanked a crossbow bolt out of his arm and experienced a momentary dizziness when he realized the quarrel had multiple barbs that had torn through his flesh all at once. He drew in a slow breath and shook himself. The pain spread outward in silky waves. Falchion in hand, he stood up and screamed, waving the weapon in his hands.
“Come over here, dogs, and let me take a bite out of you!”
No one took the bait, but Skagi dodged the two bolts that hurtled at his face. He ran forward and dived for cover next to one of the wagon wheels. Cree was in the back with Vlahna, who had her shortbow going as fast as she could get arrows nocked. The rest of the caravan guards either returned fire or, like Skagi, made their way from cover to cover until they could get in sword range of the bowmen.
A lot of them died in the process.
“They’re not quite the bad shots we thought they were,” Cree called down to Skagi.
“Who ever said that?” Skagi shot back.
“Oh, I don’t know-the corpse over there maybe, or that one, or …”
“He’s right,” Vlahna said. She yelled out, “Don’t waste yourselves by charging one at a time. You’ll only swallow a bolt. Oh, godsdamn it!” Her bowstring snapped. “Never mind, just give me some cover, Cree. Tymora!”
Vaulting over the side of the wagon, Vlahna charged. She screamed to her goddess and batted aside crossbow quarrels as she went.
“Cover her?” Cree sputtered. “With what?”
“Your body, Brother.” Skagi stood up and ran to follow Vlahna. “Or you can hide behind us and-”
Cree jumped down from the wagon and ran alongside Skagi. Either the brigands were running low on ammunition or they never expected an outright assault, because suddenly Skagi was out of the black rain and staring down at a brigand frantically trying to reload his weapon. He didn’t become aware of Skagi until the man was on top of him.
Skagi kicked aside the crossbow and followed up with his falchion. He slashed the man’s armor, which was not quite as fine as his weaponry. The leather parted easily for Skagi’s blade, forged in Ikemmu’s fires by the greatest smiths in Faerun, as far as the big man was concerned. But Skagi was not sentimental about his killing. He put his blade into the brigand’s chest and moved on to help his brother and Vlahna.
He caught Cree just as his brother slashed a brigand’s throat with his katar. As if they sensed the tide had turned, the crossbowmen rapidly dropped their weapons and came into the fray among the wagons where they could engage the human guards in smaller groups. Skagi heard Vlahna shouting to some of them to break off and help the shadar-kai riders down by the river.
Skagi glanced that way, but he couldn’t pick out Ashok among the flashes of steel and the shadar-kai teleporting about for better positions. Anyway, Ashok would be fine on his own, Skagi thought, unless he did something deliberately reckless and tried to get himself killed. Which was also a distinct possibility, given that Skagi would probably do the same thing in his place. Still, he could at least wait and share some of the fun.
“We need to check on Ilvani,” Cree said from just behind him. “She was sleeping in the wagon.”
“Better hope she stayed there and took cover.” Skagi met a charging brigand and absorbed the impact of an axe against his falchion. His teeth rattled, but he held on and thrust the man back a pace. He spared a glance at Cree and felt a tremor go through his body.
“Behind you!” he shouted.
Cree turned just in time to see a brigand come up on his blind side with a club. He ducked-thank Tempus he was still faster than all of them, Skagi thought-and slashed at the man from the groin up. Skagi winced as the blow landed.
“My thanks,” Cree said gravely after the man had fallen.
Skagi nodded. They fought on, but Skagi noticed a tremor in his hands. He dismissed the shakes as battle frenzy and gripped his blade harder. Still, he found himself staying close to Cree and watching his brother’s back, a thing he’d rarely had to do in the past. It was always the other way around.
Ilvani awoke to the sound of crossbow fire and heavy breathing. A weight slammed into the side of her wagon, which caused her to hit her head on the floorboards. She was grateful for this, in a way, because it assured her she wasn’t dreaming.
In fact, she’d not dreamed at all last night.
Ilvani was still pondering this when the weight that had slammed into her wagon threw itself over the side and landed among the crates and barrels near the front. He was human and small-bony arms and legs stuck out at all angles. When he turned his face toward her, Ilvani saw the innocence of youth and the terror of the battle reflected back at her. She noticed all these things before she realized the boy was speaking to her, his lips moving frantically. He wanted help.
Why did they all ask for her help?
With an effort, Ilvani pulled herself to wakefulness and back into the world. She looked the boy over. He didn’t appear to be hurt, only covered in mud. Grass stuck out of his hair as if he’d been crawling along the ground.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Brigands,” the boy said. “Mareyn, she tossed me in the wagon like a sack of dung. She left me … Please …”
“I’m
“Kelios Lestran Martuck,” the boy said weakly. He pushed Mareyn off him.
“Call him Les.” Mareyn winked at Ilvani. All the while she spoke she was cranking a crossbow. When she finished loading it, she popped her head up and fired at a target Ilvani couldn’t see. She dropped back undercover. “What’s your name?” she asked.
Ilvani said nothing. She was still trying to reconcile whether any of this was real. She knew she wasn’t dreaming, but that didn’t necessarily mean she wasn’t imagining the scene before her.
“Don’t bother,” Les said sourly. “She doesn’t speak. I think she must be a dumb creature.”
Mareyn scowled at the boy, but Ilvani didn’t care. People had tried to give her so many names. She remembered only some of them: deaf, dumb, insane, prophet, witch, sister. Her heart stumbled over the last one.
She wanted out of this wagon. Her joints were stiff and sore, and she knew Ashok and the others would be in the fighting. She would help them if she could. Her mind felt unusually clear after her long sleep. With clarity, the magic slumbering within her awoke.
A brigand appeared at the back of the wagon, his sword up and seeking flesh. Mareyn came forward and blocked the blow with her crossbow. Les leaned forward, pulled her sword out of its scabbard, and hastily shoved it into her hands. Mareyn dropped the crossbow and smiled her thanks. Ilvani scooted back out of her way and risked a glance over the tall side of the wagon.
The camp was a mess of blood, bodies, and scattered gear. Not many of the caravan people were dead, but there were plenty of wounded, and only a handful of the brigands had broken off in retreat. Ilvani didn’t see Ashok among the melee, but she thought she heard Skagi’s voice among the battle sounds. He came around the side of a wagon, Cree trailing behind him, and saw her.
“Put your head down, witch,” Skagi cried in exasperation. “Do you want it made into a trophy?”
The wagon shook with the ferocity of Mareyn’s sword swings. Ilvani gripped the side of the wagon with one
