Part 28 (1/2)
He decided their best chance was to make use of the chain of waterways and lakes formed by the surface water, wading through in directions that would confuse the beasts. Leading the way, he took the girl into deeper water that covered their feet and ankles and then slogged ahead across vast stretches linked by connecting streams, careful never to step out of the water, never to touch ground that might give them away.
”We could double back on them,” Prue suggested at one point, but he quickly shook his head.
”Too dangerous. If they get between us and the fortress, we have no chance at all. We keep going ahead.”
She didn't argue. She did not complain or ask to rest. She did not slow. She just did what she was told. He admired this girl.
”How long have you known Sider Ament?” he asked after a time, weary of the silence.
She shrugged. ”A few weeks. I only knew of him before that.”
”That's long enough, I guess. I only met him recently myself. First I knew of anyone living in those mountains. Why didn't your people come out of there before now? What kept you in hiding?”
”It's a long story. We couldn't leave. We were warded by magic that locked us in. The valley was all we knew.”
”Bet you wish that was still the case, don't you?”
”It would be easier. But the barrier's down and it won't come back up. We have to face life outside the valley, like it or not.” She glanced over, her green eyes unsettling. ”How did you become a mercenary?”
He shrugged. ”I needed a way to make a living. I didn't have any people, no family, no anything. I'd been on my own since I was ten or twelve. I was living in a village south of here and doing what I could to stay alive. I used to scavenge for things in the ruins that I could barter or sell.” He pointed at the weapons slung over his right shoulder. ”These brought in good money. I tried using them, found I could, decided to take up a new trade. It made me a valuable commodity to those in search of an edge against their enemies. I liked how that made me feel.”
”Don't you get lonely?”
”Sometimes. Everyone does. But I like living alone, being on my own, making my own decisions. Safer that way. Did Sider tell you about what it's like out here?”
She shook her head. ”I only met him the one time. I haven't seen him since. But I can guess what it's like.”
He laughed softly. ”No, you can't.”
He proceeded to describe it in detail, a straightforward recitation that left nothing out. He embellished a little, but not much. It wasn't necessary. Things were horrible enough as they were without the need to add anything. She only needed to grasp the gist of it. So he described the killings and the enslavement and the destruction, the basic elements of the savagery that had dominated everyone's life in the aftermath of the Great Wars-or at least everyone who hadn't found the sort of shelter from which she came.
She listened carefully and didn't interrupt. When he was finished, she said, ”You're right. I couldn't have guessed at most of it. I don't know how you tolerate it.”
”I don't think about it,” he said. ”I don't let it get too close.”
She frowned. ”But it's all around you.”
”It helps to have these,” he said, touching his weapons. ”They keep everything at a distance.”
From behind them, closer now, the baying of the Skaith Hounds rose and died. Inch glanced over his shoulder. It sounded like the beasts were farther west, perhaps following a false trail. ”Let's keep moving.”
They walked on for another hour, the day winding down. He thought they were getting close to the fortress, but he couldn't be certain in the shroud of darkness and damp. He didn't usually come at it from this direction, in any case. Everything looked different.
A fresh round of baying rose out of the silence, deep and powerful. The girl stopped where she was and looked back. ”They've found our trail. They're coming for us.”
”Maybe not,” he said, not liking how certain she seemed.
”No, they're coming. I can feel it. It's my gift to know. My instincts warn me when I'm threatened. They're warning me now.”
He wasn't sure he believed her, but he didn't see any point in taking chances. He quickened their pace, moving out of the water slicks and onto solid ground again. They needed to get out of the open, to put some walls between themselves and their pursuers. But they would have to hurry. If they failed to reach cover before dark, they would have no chance at all.
The baying rose and fell, continuous now. It was getting stronger, closer. The girl was right. The Skaith Hounds had found their trail. He gave momentary consideration to turning around and waiting for them, setting an ambush to kill them all. Without the hounds, the Drouj would have difficulty tracking anyone in this weather. But the risk was too great. If he failed to kill even one of the beasts, they would lose any advantage they might gain by staying ahead of the pursuit.
He slipped the flechette from his shoulder, released the safety, and clutched the big gun to his chest. He would be ready for them.
All of a sudden there were ruins ahead, a maze of half walls and collapsed roofs, of pa.s.sageways and rubble. For just an instant he thought they had reached his fortress keep. Then he realized these were only the outbuildings. Still, any sort of protection was better than none. The walls at least gave them something to stand behind when the Trolls caught up to them. Even a piece of a wall would ...
He was in midthought as the Skaith Hound launched itself at him from out of the darkness, a deadly, silent a.s.sa.s.sin. The huge beast was on him before he could bring the flechette to bear, knocking him backward off his feet and onto the ground. He only just managed to get the flechette between himself and the hound's jaws, jamming the barrel between the rows of teeth as he fought to fling the animal off. He heard the girl scream, and a second hound appeared, racing across the open ground to join the first. The barrel of the flechette was pointed right at it, and he pulled the trigger while it was still a dozen feet away, the charge tearing into it.
Then he used all of his considerable strength to heave the first beast clear and used the weapon a second time.
He looked around quickly, the barrel of the flechette sweeping the darkness. Nothing else appeared, although he could hear more baying in the distance. There was no hiding now. They would have to stand and fight.
”Inside!” he ordered the girl, gesturing toward the ruins.
She leapt to obey and they hastened through the maze of walls, working their way deep into the cl.u.s.ter of buildings. They were still several hundred yards from the safety of the fortress, but they might reach it if nothing else slowed them down. He found himself laboring as he ran, which surprised him. Then he glanced down and saw the blood soaking his left leg. The first hound had managed to savage it, ripping through the leathers and body armor.
He was bleeding freely, and he could feel the muscles tightening up. He knew what that meant.
Don't think about it!
Guttural cries rose from behind them. Trolls. They had discovered the bodies of the Skaith Hounds. Fresh baying rose and died. It was suddenly silent save for the sound of his breathing and their footfalls. The girl was keeping pace, darting this way and that through the debris, negotiating their pa.s.sage effortlessly. It made him smile for just a moment. She was a keeper. He'd wondered a moment earlier why he had let himself get into this mess, but now he decided he knew.
Arrows flew past his head, and then one buried itself in his back. But the leathers and the armor stopped its penetration. He s.n.a.t.c.hed at the girl, pulling her down behind a wall just ahead, and he turned, swinging up the barrel of the flechette. He fired three times, booming coughs that ruptured the stillness and ended a handful of lives in seconds. Without pausing to consider the number of dead, he was up and running anew, pulling the girl after him.
”There's more!” she screamed, just as several bodies vaulted a low wall to their left, spears thrusting. They missed the girl, but skewered him, shoulder and leg both. He killed his attackers quickly, efficiently. He bent down and broke off the spearheads and pulled free the shafts. It cost him something to do that, but he didn't hesitate or shy away from it.
Bleeding now from several wounds, he backed away with the girl behind him, watching the darkness. ”Anything?” he asked her.
”No. They've fallen back. But not far.”
Of course, not far. They had him now. Her, too, if he didn't do something about it. Then all this would have been for nothing.
He dropped behind another wall and knelt close to her. ”I want you to go on ahead without me. Don't argue. You have to reach the fortress and open the door for me. I won't have time for that once I catch up. The locks are hidden. But I can show you how to find them. Listen carefully.”
He told her where to go and what to do. He made sure she understood. He sketched a quick map in the dirt, which showed her the route she must follow. ”Go now,” he told her.
She shook her head, the first time she had questioned him. ”I can stay and help ...”
”You don't have a weapon, and you don't have fighting skills. You'll only slow me down if I have to worry about protecting you. Here, take this.”
He handed her a f.l.a.n.g.e automatic, a twelve-shot handgun he had recovered from its hiding place about five years back and restored to working order. He showed her how to use it-how to release the safety, how to hold the weapon steady, how to fire it once or multiple times. ”Just in case,” he told her.
She nodded once, and then she was off, sprinting away into the darkness. Good girl, he thought. She knew, but she wasn't making a mistake by saying so, by staying to argue. He respected her for that. She was worth saving. Sider hadn't made a mistake in asking his help.
He turned back to the darkness, listening for sounds of approaching Trolls. An attack was inevitable, but it might not come right away. He backed into the ruins a little farther, searching the walls and doorways for the right spot. He found it finally, a corner slot formed by adjoining walls beneath a deep overhang. They could only get at him from in front.