A bell jangled, twice, three times, and then the alarm was cut off by a shrill scream that went on for so long that Kesh realized it wasn't a dying man making that horrible noise but a living one. It was a battle cry.
The other merchant bolted out from under the Ladytree's canopy, but the fool ran for the mob gone into hysterics at the inn rather than seeking the sanctuary offered by the well. The two horses gone north returned at a gallop. One was riderless. The other, shot in the hindquarters, dragged its rider behind, but the fellow was dead or unconscious, his body turning and tumbling as the pain-blinded horse tried to shake him loose.
How could this be happening? How, when he was so close? Were the gods punishing him for turning his back on them? Yet he'd done that years ago and walked unmolested in the Hundred enough times that they'd had plenty of time to dissolve him with the blast of their angry gaze if that was their intent. No, no, it must be now, when he was so close that the taste of freedom had made him at last admit his hunger. The gods were cruel, that was it, and delighted in mocking his hopes.
He reached back and slipped an arrow free, set it against the string. 'Curse you all,' he muttered. 'I won't lose all this now!'
'Kei? Kei?' It was the older girl, peering out from between the walls of cloth. 'What go, Master? What go?'
'Down!' he snapped. 'On the bed of the wagon. Down flat!' He heard them rustling, but he hadn't the leisure to look inside to make sure they obeyed. Just what he needed! A stray arrow piercing that precious neck and robbing him of all he'd worked for, for so many years. God, he was so furious at those damned robbers he could kill them and eat their hearts and savor the tang.
'Whass going on?' asked the lad.
'Robbers, you thick skull!'
The lad whistled. He was, it appeared, thick in understanding. He scratched his shaved head and wiped his nose. 'Now what?'
'Run to the well. That's refuge.'
'Can't leave the wagon. Boss said so.'
'If they catch you, they'll kill you.'
'Boss said so. Stick by, he said. Watch these other two, not just ours. Gotta do what Boss said. Plus there's a sticky bun in it for me. When we get to Old Fort. He promised.'
'Hide under the wagon. You've got good position back here with me. Hard to come through these back branches, like a wall-' He pointed with the bow, and the lad nodded wisely. It was obvious that the boy didn't comprehend the danger they were in. 'There's the cart, and that other wagon there, on the other side where it's more open. That's like wall, too. A bit of safety. The Lady's palisade, they call it.'
'Eh,' said the lad, squinting. 'Eh! See there!' He pointed with his elbow, not that Kesh hadn't already seen and felt his insides go from falling to twisting into a tight, tight knot.
Where the caravan guards had got to he did not know, but the men now riding into the commons from both north and south were no raggle-taggle bunch but two dozen men armed with bows, spears, and swords and dressed in good silk. Not the best quality. He had a finely honed eye, and even from this distance he recognized that the shades of crimson, apricot, and azure were decent but second-rate. This was the kind of silk a well-to-do crofter might buy his young bride for her wedding price, or a rich merchant might clothe her servants in for a festival party to impress her rivals.
Behind, branches rustled. He spun. Tebedir pushed through the wall of hanging branches, holding an unlit torch in one hand and a shovel in the other.
'Tsst!' the driver hissed in disgust. 'No robber in my land. God keep order!' He had tied his blessing bowl back onto his belt but now set down shovel and torch and set to work with flint and tinder to start a fire in the bowl. 'Fire scare evil ones,' he explained. 'Burn them.'
'My thanks for coming back,' said Kesh, heartened by his reappearance.
'Never left. I swear my time of service according to the Exalted One. To break a swear-an oath-makes a man a slave! In my country, Master,' he added. 'Not yours. No such honor in yours.'
Kesh grinned wryly but kept his gaze fixed on the way the robbers were closing in around the inn. A few of the merchants bore walking staffs or droving whips, but those that held them aloft did so more as if to say they were ready to surrender. The innkeeper emerged from the inn on his knees, hands clapped to his forehead, palms facing outward in the traditional gesture of submission.
'Mercy!' The man's voice carried easily over the commons. 'By the mercy granted us by the Witherer's Kiss, take what you will and go on your way.'
'Think they'll see us?' whispered Tebedir.
A strong voice called out from among the robbers.
'Move swift! Hurry! Find the treasure, and ride!'
They wheeled, scattering like a flock of chickens after thrown grain. One jumped his mount over the fence surrounding the inn and rode through, whip flashing to either side as men screamed and stumbled out of his way. Another cantered back toward the northern gate and a third toward the southern. Six dismounted and began to tear through the wagons parked all through the commons as that same voice called, 'No, you slackabeds! A wagon with canvas walls! Yes, like that!'
The man giving the orders remained in the road, surveying the chaos, watching avidly as a wagon surmounted by a canvas cabin had its walls slit by spear point. The leader's mouth and nose were masked by a black scarf tied up behind his ears. His dark hair was short, like a laborer's, and streaked with enough gray that Kesh could make out the speckling from here. Two men turned their horses and trotted toward the Ladytree.
Streamers of colored ribbons broke out of the innyard as the envoy used his staff to help himself vault the fence. He cleared it easily and landed with remarkable agility for a man of his advanced years. He trotted through the chaos with a peculiar lack of concern, following on the trail of the two riders moving in on the Ladytree.
'Not much chance fighting these odds,' said Tebedir. 'If you ask me.'
'I'm not asking you! You're free to escape, if you wish.'
'Seems to me Hundred folk like killing southern folk. As good odds here as out on my own. I stick.'
'With my thanks, then. If we survive this, I'll give you a bonus.'
'Hei!' cried the lad, pointing toward the two riders.
Tebedir jammed the base of the torch into the dirt, held the shovel between his knees, and flicked open his tinderbox. Keshad sighed, nocked an arrow, and took aim. Once the first arrow went, he'd be marked and doomed. He could still surrender. The two riders closed. The envoy gained ground behind them, darting through the chaos. Kesh noted him grimly. Was it the envoy who had betrayed them to the bandits?
He loosed his arrow. It missed so wildly that in truth the two riders didn't even notice it, so intent were they on looking back over their shoulders at the fortunate men now looting the wagons out on the commons where merchants sobbed and slaves cowered.
The torch flared beside him, a wash of unexpected heat. Tebedir hoisted the shovel in two hands and gave it a test swing as Keshad set another arrow to the string. He loosed it, only to see it veer wide yet again. Beltak had cursed him, or the gods had chosen to punish him for his apostasy now that he was back walking in their Hundred.
The lad had come up with a bow from somewhere. With a blinking look of confusion, he drew and aimed and shot and the lead rider of the pair toppled off his horse with an arrow buried deep in his belly.
' 'Eir! 'Eir!' cried the second, waving and hollering until he got the attention of the leader. He drew his sword. 'Got trouble over here.'
The leader gestured. Three more riders turned to ride that way as the second rider bent low in his saddle, letting his mount's neck cover him. The lad fumbled for a second arrow. Keshad swore under his breath and made ready.
The envoy fell to his knees as though hit, but more likely he was only cowering as the new riders swept up beside him, ignoring an unarmed man dressed in the colors of a god. His arms shifted, and without warning he stuck his staff parallel an arm's span above the ground, right in the path of one of the horses. The creature tripped and tumbled and screamed as it went down with all that weight, slamming hard. The rider spilled forward over the horse's neck, hitting head and shoulder on the earth, and lay there like a dead man, although the horse struggled up at once.
'Beware!' said Tebedir in a sharp voice at Keshad's left ear.
