Part 20 (1/2)
The big barbarian whirled to appraise the battle The travelers were twenty people, two or three families with many horses,leads, the horses plunged and kicked and screarappled with orcs-there were nearly sixty villains-or else crouched behind packs and panniers du melee, dwarves withthe names of their ancient Gods and ancestors
Knucklebones, not much taller than thefroht watched, she hung onto Cappi's belt to alert hi as a team with Pullor, the tarves carved into orcs that they had backed into a pocket of rock Sunbright thought that action foolish, since even orcs would fight when cornered Better to give them room to flee, then kill them from behind, but the dwarves were hot to destroy ancient ene a spear at Cappi's face and bolting
As the dwarf staggered, Knucklebones zipped around hiht into it Black steel sliced its guts just above the naked hipbone, slid out its back, and was ripped out its side by the thief's deft twist The orc ran a dozen paces before shock and pain dropped it
At Sunbright's feet, two dark-haired children, a girl and boy perhaps eight and six, hunkered behind wicker baskets and howled at their ht shi+fted Harvester and cuffed both across the heads ”Stop that!” the sharabbed the boy's tattered s in a loincloth, so surprised he stopped crying Stooping, the sha around her head and neck wound That they still bled showed she was alive Sunbright snatched the boy's hand, and pressed it atop the crude bandage ”Hold this and don't let go or your mother will die,”
he said bluntly ”You, little sister, dig in these packs for blankets, wrap her tight, and keep her warirl nodded and jerked at the ties on a pannier
Sunbright called, ”Good work!” and raced off, Harvester winking in the early winter sunlight
Dashi+ng around a knot of tangled, kicking horses, the sha
Their hands overfloith tin canteens, horse bridles, a knitted shawl, and other junk One had even laid down his war club to dig in a saddlebag
Sunbright didn't holler, just sucked wind for a stronger blow He went for the ar one, fast on its feet, held a war club of hickory and iron spikes-damned well-armed for orcs, the shaarth Barbarian, and Sunbright was fitted with the finest sword his tribe ever knew
Side, Harvester didn't break the club's hickory handle, but snagged and ripped it fro steel, but Sunbright stamped for balance, chopped his blade backhanded, and crushed the orc's collarbone Yanking the leather-wrapped poht hooked the sray ht's feet The warrior-sharay head of lank hair, and stepped to kill the other two The ht pierced its breadbasket, then twisted the hook to carve a hole that spilled guts Leaving that one to die, the fighter lunged for the third, who ran
Harvester's keen tip kissed the orc's shoulder, slashi+ngwound, the orc tripped over its own flying feet and crashed to earth Sunbright scanned, found the gutted orc falling slowly He batted it backward, then stabbed the prone orc behind the ear, snuffing the light in its sunken eyes
Battle-lust sang in his veins as Sunbright Steelshanks whirled to find y of blood It was hard to see now, for the horses had kicked up dust, but the action had died down Most of the orcs had fled or been killed
A scratching by his feet caught his attention The big orc with the crushed shoulder struggled for the hilt of its spiked war club Sunbright hooked a toe and flipped the orc like a turtle Despite grinding pain fro shoulder, the creature still craned for its weapon Sunbright stamped on its breastbone
Harvester poised above the orc's throat, Sunbright growled, ”What's your na orc focussed yellow eyes and sputtered, ”To-Toch”
”Tell your Gods you died garay, dirty throat Blood welled like a red fountain, then trickled away Sunbright wiped his blade clean on his foe's tunic: gray ith a freshly-painted red hand ”Syain ” the sha hickory handle gave a good heft, balanced, not nose- heavy, re the handle with dust to swab off blood, he slid it into his belt
”Was that necessary?” Knucklebones asked She stood nearby, s, and buffed her brass knuckledusters on her lion skin jacket Theanyway”
”I've left too ht was shaky and tired He wore a brown bearskin vest but no hat, and never seemed cold
”And I've paid for that mistake too many times,” he continued ”It's a weakness, and I cannot afford to be weak Besides, you never leave a throat uncut Are you growing soft?”
The part-elf only polished her shi+ny knuckles Raised to be ruthless, she couldn't argue, but one of Sunbright's entle kindness Now, cut off from his people forever, he'd turned bitter, and she wondered if he'd ever be kind or gentle again
Yet he sheathed Harvester to tend the bludgeoned wo to her children His heart was still true, the thief knew Only his mind was bitter But his curt words, or lack of words, were a bugbear to endure
Four dwarves joked and swapped boasts as they cleaned weapons and touched blades to whetstones By contrast, the travelers grimly counted their dead, four lost out of twenty A short, thicksethis cowed children, he gasped, ”How is she?”
”To tell the truth,” the shaht knelt with the wo with rags and bundled her in blankets Sunbright plied his belt knife to shave her scalp around a seeping wound He rolled the woman's eyelids, exae, as can happen with a severe head wound ”She may take the day to awaken, or three days Or not at all”
The thick ulped All the travelers wore the same outfit Canvas vests, thick knitted sweaters without sleeves, trousers of leather, knee-high boots wrapped with rawhide, leather caps with bills
Most had thick forearht noted, and wondered why The man said, ”I-we thank you for our rescue We hoped to escape such troubles by fleeing the eht sliced up a skirt, and wrapped neat bandages around the patient's skull ”What troubles?”
he asked ”We've heard naught”
Thick-fingered hands waggled helplessly as the man told him, ”These orcs with the red hand raid everywhere, all around the cohting, but they're like grass fires in drought And they carry disease Men partake in raids too Bandits and pirates loot whole cities and torch theates and admit no one, not even their own peasants Markets and fairs languish We journeyed to Zenith for the Festival of the Harvest Moon and found naught but empty fields We've met no buyers, no one with cash, yet everyone wants our horses
The bandits are bloodthirsty, but imperial troops are just as bad Te met small armies that threatened to take the horses in the e but wooden chits ”
Talk of raht, the dwarves, and Knucklebones While the horse traders untangled their ht stitched wounds, the dwarves brewed rose hip tea and unwrapped oak cakes With the hostlers' permission, they butchered a dead horse and sliced the redstrips The dwarves cut wood and scraped a fire pit as the short winter day ended and brittle stars winked Everyone feasted on horse meat and liver and brains that steamed in the frosty air like their breath The hostlers unfolded curious shaggy ponchos with slits that left their bare arms free
The hostlers' neas patchy and shaded by personal escapes, but it was clear the eers Ru, but they'd warred instead and blown the top off Widowmaker Mountain No one kneho controlled what territories Orcish and i parties All strangers were foes, and no place was safe The hostlers, honest traders once welcoees, as were ht went quiet as Hilel, the leader of this horse-trading clan, spoke of”tall rasslands, the Rengarth Barbarians had dug sod houses into low hills They foraged garasslands, ventured into the forests for food and firewood, butbarbarians were aand haunted-eyed He'd feared a massacre and the theft of their horses, but the barbarians let the the news Soed food for their children, who shi+vered with hunger
Late in the night, Hilel asked for directions northwest The brooding Sunbright didn't answer, so Knucklebones explained ”You can't go on We've explored with the dwarves This canyon rises too steeply for horses toas your horses They'd eat you and your animals like blueberries
”Nor can you pass south of the , I'd reco around Vandal Station and follow the Bay of Ascore to the Waterbourne River
But in winter, that'll be frozen So there really is no way northwest except through the Cold Forest
”Perhaps they can advise you better at Bandor Village”
The negative news disheartened the hostlers, who quietly posted guards Rolling in blankets, Sunbright, Knucklebones, and the dwarves curled by the fire
But Sunbright didn't sleep
In the , the hostlers buried their dead Diota, Hilel's wounded wife, had not awakened, so they rigged a travois to ferry her Thoughts of travois and traveling deepened Sunbright's glooees tra hides of horse meat, mounted stone slopes for their base ca cave that overlooked the High Forest: a place where, by standing on a jutting spire and leaning far out, Sunbright could just see the yellow grasslands where his people huddled in starvation and misery
While winter closed in, the dwarves had spent weeks exploring the Barren Mountains, which is how they'd stumbled on the orc raid They crawled into every cave and cleft as if looking to buy the or finally admitted, that's what he intended The distant Iron Mountains were played out, food and iron ore exhausted, and the encroaching yak-men were too numerous to withstand So the old dwarf's ht of the flint monster (this, the barbarian still didn't understand), and to seek a new ho better to do, and safety in nu to winter with the dwarves before o then, for the subject pained Sunbright too deeply As did the word ”homeland”
But today's return offered a surprise For as they passed the base cauard, she whispered, ”Theain that you speak to your people about truce”