Inversions

'What? What's this? Where…?' another voice said from above, to the accompaniment of swishing leaves and stamping hooves. YetAmidous.

UrLeyn gently unclipped the safety on the crossbow and started to move his hand back towards the trigger again. The ort charged.

UrLeyn's crossbow started to drop, hinging down as the Protector tried to track the animal racing towards him. He began to leap at the same time, moving to the right, obscuring the clear shot DeWar had had of the ort. DeWar released the trigger on the bow just in time, an instant before the bolt would have flown towards the Protector. Suddenly UrLeyn's hunting cap leaped from his head and went tumbling away towards the stream. DeWar registered this without thinking what had caused it. He started to run towards UrLeyn, leaning forward, pushing off with one foot then the other, holding the bow in front of his belly, pointing to one side. UrLeyn was slipping, the foot he had put his weight on beginning to flick out from underneath him.

Two steps, three. Something whirred past DeWar's head and left a curl of wind to stroke his cheek. An instant later there was a splash in the stream, the water kicking high into the air.

Four steps. Still picking up speed, each stride more like a leap. The Protector's crossbow made a cracking, twanging noise. The bow pushed back in UrLeyn's hands. The bolt appeared in the left haunch of the charging ort, making the animal scream, leap into the air and twist its hips, but when it landed again, two strides from the stumbling, falling UrLeyn, it lowered its horned head and charged straight at him.

Five, six steps. UrLeyn hit the ground. The ort's snout thudded into his left hip. It reared back and darted forward again, head lower this time, aiming for the fallen man's midriff as he started to raise one hand in an attempt to fend the animal off.

Seven. DeWar brought the crossbow round as he ran, still at waist height. He took a half-stride to steady it as best he could then pulled the trigger.

The quarrel hit the ort just above the left eye. The animal quivered and stopped in its tracks. The feathered bolt protruded from its skull like a third horn. DeWar was four then three steps away, throwing the crossbow aside as his left hand crossed to his right hip and the handle of the long dagger. UrLeyn kicked, pivoting his lower body away from the ort, which was looking down at the ground less than a pace away from him, snorting and shaking its head while its front legs buckled and it settled to the ground.

DeWar drew the dagger and leapt over UrLeyn as the older man rolled away from the ort, landing between the two. The ort snorted and puffed and shook its head and looked up with what DeWar would always swear was a surprised expression as he plunged the dagger into its neck near its left ear and in one swift movement opened its throat to the air. The animal made a whooshing noise and collapsed to the ground, head tucked in to its chest, its dark blood spreading around it. DeWar kept the dagger pointing towards it as he knelt there, feeling behind him with his free hand to make sure where UrLeyn was.

'Are you all right, sir?' he asked, without looking round. The ort jerked, seemed to be trying to get to its feet, then rolled over on its side, legs trembling. The blood continued to gush from its neck. Then the animal stopped shaking, the blood began to seep rather than pulse, and slowly the beast's legs folded in to its body as, finally, it died.

UrLeyn pulled himself up on to his knees by DeWar. He put one hand on the other man's shoulder. The Protector's grip felt shaky. 'I am… chastened, I think would be the right word, DeWar. Thank you. Providence. Big bugger, isn't he?'

'Big enough, sir,' DeWar said, deciding the motionless animal was little enough of a threat to let him risk glancing behind, to where YetAmidous and RuLeuin were making their way down a shallow-sloped part of the earth bank. Their mounts stood on the bank, looking down at UrLeyn and his own mount. The two men approached at a run. YetAmidous still held his discharged crossbow. DeWar looked back at the ort, then stood, sheathed the long dagger and helped UrLeyn to his feet. The Protector's arm trembled and he did not let go of DeWar's arm once he had stood up.

'Oh, sir!' YetAmidous cried, clutching his crossbow to his chest. His broad, round face looked grey. 'Are you unharmed? I thought I — Providence, I thought I'd…'

RuLeuin came dashing up, nearly tripping on DeWar's crossbow where it lay on the ground. 'Brother!' He threw his arms wide and almost knocked his brother over as he hugged him, pulling UrLeyn's hand away from DeWar.

On the slope above, the sounds of the main part of the hunt were coming closer.

DeWar glanced back at the ort. It looked very dead.

'And who fired first?' Perrund asked quietly and without moving. Her head was tipped, lowered over the 'Secret Keep' board, studying her next move. They were sitting in the visiting chamber of the harem, towards ninth bell. There had been a particularly noisy after-hunt feast that evening, though UrLeyn had retired early.

'It was YetAmidous,' DeWar said, no more loudly. 'His was the shot that lifted the Protector's cap off his head. The cap was found downstream. The bolt was embedded inside a log by the stream. A finger-breadth lower…'

'Indeed. And so it was RuLeuin's that just missed you.

'And just missed UrLeyn, too, though I think it was his waist it missed by a hand's breadth or so, not his head by a finger's.'

'Could each bolt plausibly have been meant for the ort?’

'… Yes. Neither man is regarded as a marksman. If YetAmidous really was aiming for UrLeyn's head then I imagine that most of the people in the court who consider themselves authorities on this sort of matter would judge it as a surprisingly accurate shot, given the circumstances. And YetAmidous did seem genuinely shocked that he'd missed the Protector by so small a margin. And RuLeuin is his brother, for all Providence.' DeWar sighed heavily, then yawned and rubbed his eyes. 'And YetAmidous, as well as being a poor shot, is just not the type to be an assassin.'

'Hmm,' Perrund said in a particular tone.

'What?' Only as he said this did DeWar realise how well he felt he had come to know the woman. Just the way she had made that single sound had meant much to him.

'I have a friend who spends quite a lot of time in YetAmidous' company,' Perrund said softly. 'She has said that he delights in card games played for money. He takes even greater delight in making it seem that he is ignorant of the subtleties of the games and pretending that he is a poor player. He appears to forget the rules, has to ask what to do at certain points, inquires as to the meaning of terms the other players use, and so on. Often he will deliberately lose a series of small bets. In fact he is only waiting until an especially large wager is at stake, whereupon he almost invariably wins, much to his own apparent surprise. She has seen this happen time after time. His friends are wise to him now, and are amused as well as wary, but many a young and smirking nobleman who thought himself in the presence of a bumbling fool ripe for the picking has been lucky to leave YetAmidous' house with a coin to call his own.'

DeWar realised that he was biting his lip as he stared at the game board. 'So the man is a skilled dissembler, not a buffoon. That is worrying.' He looked up at Perrund, though she did not meet his gaze. He found himself inspecting the blonde mass of her gathered-up hair, marvelling at its sheen and perfect fairness. 'Your friend would not have any further observations or opinions on the gentleman, would she?'

Still not looking up, Perrund took a long deep breath. He watched her shoulders in the red gown, glanced down to the swell of material over her breasts. 'Once, perhaps twice,' she said, 'when YetAmidous has been very drunk, she has thought he revealed… a certain jealous contempt for the Protector. And I think he has little regard for you.' She looked up suddenly.

DeWar felt himself rock back slightly, as though afflicted by the force of the gaze from those blue-flecked gold eyes. 'Though none of this is to say that he is not still a good and loyal follower of the Protector,' Perrund said. 'If one is determined to find fault then looking hard enough will produce reason to distrust everybody.' She looked down again.

'Of course,' DeWar said, and felt his face grow warm. 'Still, I would rather know such things than not.'

Perrund moved one piece, then another. 'There,' she said.

DeWar continued with his analysis of the game.