[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.Had they been outlanders or Knights, the traders would have fared hard, but the man and his two sons were elves, and so Jeratt’s outlaws left them roughed up and bruised, one a little cut, and all angry.“Ought to know better than to bring that kind of thing through here,” Jeratt had laughed, displaying the plunder.“Outlaws all over the Qualinost road.Didn’t the fools know that? Nice of ‘em, though, to come by with supplies.”Warmly outfitted, still Kerian shivered and longed to slip her stiffening fingers into the sleeves of her coat for warmth, hut she did not.A silver ribbon of water streamed between her and Jeratt, leaping over rocks and lapping the dark lines of mud at either side.The mud on both sides of the water was churned by tracks, the marks of a deer’s passage, Kerian had said upon spotting them.Jeratt had nodded agreement and positioned her deep in shadow on one side of the stream, himself concealed on the other, and said no more.Wind-whipped, Kerian watched the stream.A blue kingfisher darted down and came up with a flash of silver in its beak.In the forest, a jackdaw called, its raucous voice drowning out smaller birds, and another answered.Kerian did not so much as glance in the direction of the sounds.She was held in aching stillness by the thought of Jeratt’s mockery, his own jackdaw laughter should she so much as shift her weight from one foot to another.“Dancey-footed folk go hungry,” he’d snarled the first time he’d seen her do that.“Find your place and stay.” He sounded like Dar when he said that.She could almost conjure up a memory of the ancient days when he let her come along while he hunted.She had not hunted to kill then-in those days she was just learning her bow skills-but here, in this place far from home, she heard an echo of Dar’s gruff tones and frustration with her impatience.It felt like a week of waiting, listening to the wind in the forest, the stream purling over stone, the rustlings of small animals in the fern brakes.She had a boulder at her back, one upon which she could sit with some ease.Even so, it seemed to Kerian that every muscle rebelled at stillness.Her left leg cramped, her right foot itched….She shifted her gaze from the half-elf to the forest beyond.She thought she saw something move in the green darkness, then the illusion vanished as the wind dropped.Very slightly, Jeratt lifted his head, for all the world like an old dog sniffing the air.He sniffed again, then resumed his stillness, his back against an old high pine, his bow strung loosely, heel on the ground, head against his hip.Kerian kept stone still.The iron sky shifted, clouds parting, and she squinted as Jeratt seemed to vanish in a sudden flash of sunlight, then reappear when the clouds shifted again.In the after-glare, Kerian widened her eyes to adjust her vision to the change of light.Above, the sky resumed its lowering, clouds growing thicker.Now she smelled what Jeratt must have, the sharpening of the air that heralded the coming of snow.The forest grew quiet, birds stilled, squirrels fell silent.Kerian looked to Jeratt, but he, as she, heard only the stilling, not the cause.She lifted her head in question: What?He lifted a hand to signal silence.In the same gesture, he took up his bow.Kerian slipped an arrow from the quiver at her hip, nocked it neatly to the bowstring.Along her shoulder, down her arm, her muscles quivered with excitement.She drew a calming breath.Behind her, the forest erupted in the crashing sounds of something heavy and swift tearing through the underbrush.,In one flashing instant, Kerian saw Jeratt lift his bow, an arrow ready to fly.She turned, heart crashing against her ribs, and saw a low, thick body coming toward her.Wolf!She lifted her own bow, pulled, and saw what came behind the headlong beast-a boy.“Ulf!” the boy called, his cry ringing through the forest.Kerian shouted, “Jeratt, no!”An arrow wasped past Kerian’s cheek just as she shouted, “Boy! Down!”Whether he dropped or stumbled, Kerian wasn’t sure.Relief washed through her to see him go down, to hear the thock! of Jeratt’s arrow hitting the pine just above him.Jeratt cursed, the dog shot past Kerian, fangs white and glistening.She heard the hiss of another arrow coming from Jeratt’s quiver.“Boy!”From the ground, his face covered in blood and dirt, the boy screamed, “Ulf! Drop! Drop!”The dog fell, a bright splash of blood on the stone beneath him.Leaping to his feet, the boy cursed.He flung himself past Kerian and past the dog itself.Startled, Kerian realized he was heading for Jeratt and that the half-elf had another arrow in hand.She reached to grab the boy’s shoulder and jerked him hard behind her.“Jeratt-”“Get back,” he snapped.“He’s a boy.Look-he’s no threat.”Out the corner of her eye, she saw the boy draw a gleaming knife from his belt.Whirling, she grabbed his wrist, twisted it until the knife fell ringing onto stone.She kicked it away, cursing.Jeratt snatched up the knife, the boy snarled a curse, and Kerian jerked hard on his wrist.She saw now he was not so much a boy as she’d first thought.Still gangly with youth, dressed in warm clothes and high leather boots only a little down at the heel, he looked like a villager’s son.Half-grown, he couldn’t have had more than sixty years.“Where you from?” Jeratt demanded.The young elf glared without answering.In the stillness, the dog whimpered, struggling to rise.The elf turned, alarmed.Kerian increased pressure on his wrist.“It’s not all decided yet, boy.Where are you from?”The dog’s fate weighed heavier than his own.His eyes on Ulf, the boy said, “Down west in the valley.”“Bailnost?”He nodded sullenly.“Your name?”The boy didn’t answer, watching as the dog staggered to its feet and moved stiffly toward him.Jeratt’s arrow had scored a painful path across the dog’s shoulder, but luckily the dog was not hurt badly.Ulf put his head under his master’s hand, and the boy said, “My name is Ander.I’m the miller’s son.” His long eyes narrowed, taking in their rough clothing, patched and mismatched.“You’d better let me go or I’ll be telling my father and all who’ll listen about the outlaws up here.”Jeratt’s laughter rang out, harsh and unfeeling.“Boy, you ain’t going to be alive long enough.”Ander’s face paled, his bravado flown.“Stop,” said Kerian, to Jeratt and to Ander.She looked from one to the other.“Ander didn’t offer us any harm.We injured his dog and almost killed the boy himself.Let it go now.”Jeratt frowned.Before he could speak, she turned to the boy.“Go on.Your dog should make it home.”Ander eyed her narrowly, then nodded.He muttered something that sounded like thanks and turned his back on them, walking away.“Addle-headed fool,” Jeratt growled.Kerian shook her head.“Why, just because he-?”Jeratt snorted.“Not him.You.That boy knows we’re from no village around here, he knows what we look like- we’re either ragged outlaws hunting dinner.Or trouble.” He looked up at the sky, the lowering clouds.“It’s worse than that.He knows what you look like, and there’s Knights around would pay him to learn where you are, Kerianseray.You know for sure he’s offhome and not off to settle a score with us and get him a handful of steel coins to boot?”She didn’t know that.Cold wind whirled snow on the ground, and now snow began to sift down from the darkening sky.Dry in the mouth, Kerian said, “What should wedojeratt?”“Go kill him.Throw him down the hill, make it look like an accident.Kill the dog too, make it look like whatever you like [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]