Brandth switched direction, the dirt under his boots quickly turning into treacherous sucking, slippery mud. Angling his body so he could reach out with his good arm. Brandth was a mere foot from the boys when the entire section of bank upon which he stood disintegrated into the fast rushing water, taking the three of them with it.
Cruddy hell.
* * *
Twang. Twang.
Arrows were released. Cadell and Elliott firing at each other even as both were in the process of moving, knowing they were being targeted. Talac, swivelling around sharply on his knees, just in time to watch Elliott stumble over dead Wilton’s out flung hand. The stumble saved his life, as Cadell had anticipated the dodge, but instead of his intended sidestep, Elliott’s stumble caused his entire upper body to bob downwards momentarily. Cadell’s arrow sailing right over his head.
Elliott recovered quickly from the stumble, bringing his bow up to dash aside the thrust of Talac’s short bladed knife that he’d retrieved from his boot. The back of Talac’s hand stinging, but thankfully he retained hold of the weapon. Getting to his feet, he and Elliott began circling one another.
Holding the bow expertly with two hands, using it as a long staff, Elliott sneered Talac’s way. “I know you’re the one behind my losing the hunt prize that day. You and the giant blonde bitch. There’s no way that runty little common fellow would have made the kill without your interference.”
“Master Kinnith is five times the gentleman you are Heathscote. A better man than me even.” Talac sidestepped several raps of the long bow staff. The man was feeling him out. Throwing a few feints into the mix, testing Talac, studying the way he moved. “I hear he’s earned himself a position here at the Palace.” Making a mental note to write that letter issuing the job offer of heading up the Widows Dividend Fund immediately, before any other calamities struck.
“Good, then I won’t have to waste time hunting him down. I’ll know exactly where to find him.” Elliott thrusting one pointed end of the staff forward, aiming for Talac’s throat. Thwack. Talac blocked it with the handle of his knife. Knocking the staff aside.
“You didn’t even stay to collect your winnings that day, instead you slipped away… into the woods. I assume that’s where you stumbled upon a few like-minded souls and convinced them to attack Alia and myself a few nights later.”
“Meagre paltry winnings that would have saddled me with an unwanted bride to boot, no thank you. It was fate to stumble over several men who’d walked away with nothing, and the angry Wilton and his one arm. They didn’t take much convincing. A couple of bags of wine, and Wilton, charming fellow that he was, he badly wanted to bloody the bitch. Told us a fascinating tale of how she was the Beast of Gloomenthrall, drowning in riches. Imagine our delight a few nights later, the royal coach and with it the blonde giantess. Still, I let them take the lead, but I was stalking not far behind… had you in my sights at one stage. But instead was forced to shoot Poplin as he was about to blab everything he knew.”
Tap. Thwack. Duck. Stab. They continued to circle one another.
“The royal retinue. We knew where you were headed, here, so we followed you. Wilton was no learned man, but he had brute strength and was goal driven. And extremely handy when it comes to convincing the unwilling to share information. It’s how we learned that the blonde was watching and taunting Baron Soutner. They clearly had a history. I arranged to meet with him, to feel him out on his thoughts regarding the Gloomenthrall women. And what do you know, he wanted them dead just as badly as I wished my cousin in the ground.”
“Thank you.”
“Why are you thanking me?” Elliott’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, even as he attacked with a flurry of hits, only one of the bow thrusts making contact with Talac’s upper arm.
“I’m a man who seeks answers. Mysteries intrigue me. But solving them is what’s most important. You had already told us that Wilton was behind the attack on Alia at the masquerade ball under your direction. We know the bard shot at Baron Heathscote during the royal hunt, and now you have provided me the intel regarding the night in the woods of Gloomenthrall. I don’t suppose you were behind the attempt to poison Alia at the high tea party?”
“Don’t be insulting. Poison is a weak weapon.”
“On that we are agreed. Again, thank you for being so verbose.”
Elliott’s snarling response froze in the back of his throat, for following his next jab Talac grabbed the end of the bow, gripping it tightly. Elliott tried frantically to yank it free of his hold.
“You…” Elliott had no time to say anything else, as with one hard jerk from Talac on the bow staff, Elliott found himself lurching forward, right into the thrust of Talac’s short bladed knife, that was wickedly sharp and all too easily punctured his heart. The look of surprise on the man’s face was almost comical, but there was no time to savour it. Talac had other things to worry about.
Absently leaning over to wipe his blade clean on Elliott’s tunic. He finally allowed himself to give in to the plaguing need to check on Alia. Not knowing how she was fairing against the bard bowman had been gnawing constantly at him.
She was alive. Relief unclenched Talac’s gut. But there was blood. He didn’t like that, not one little bit, rage threatening to swamp him. For a measured careful man this was a unique experience. Taking a deep breath, Talac grappled with the rage… and won.
It was only a little blood. Not life threatening… yet. More importantly, Alia would not appreciate his interference… or ever likely forgive him if he did sweep in to save her. That would just earn him a long lecture about how she was more than capable of saving herself. Which she was. He knew it, he didn’t have to like it though.
Pushing aside his concerns, Talac switched his attention to Brandth, currently facing off against one last standing foe with a cudgel. Delivering a death blow to the doughy man with one good thrust of his sword even as Talac watched on.
His friend had put on a good show, as there were already two bodies on the ground, although Brandth was holding his left arm a little awkwardly. Nevertheless, he seemed to have everything in hand… Lady Perri however, Talac redirected his attention to the centre of the clearing. Another Gloomenthrall woman who probably wouldn’t be pleased if he was to come to her aid… but he’d rather a lecture from Perri, than Alia.
Talac had only taken two steps when the world seemed to slow down. Regal Soutner was suddenly standing over a kneeling Perri Gloomenthrall, about to deliver a killing blow. And Brandth was skidding down the muddy riverbank, trying to rescue the bound and gagged boys… in a flash the riverbank crumpled away, all three disappearing into the fast flowing deep stream.
Deities above give him guidance. Who should he try to save first?
* * *
Cadell was a smooth and astonishingly quick archer. Must be all that strumming of mandolins, strengthening his fingers and wrists. For even as Alia raced towards him, aware that he’d just released an arrow targeting Elliott Heathscote, the man was able to restring another arrow and target her. Damn it.
She threw herself forward, even so, the arrow hit her shoulder, thankfully her forest green dyed keymoat jacket repelled the strike. Although the point of impact throbbed painfully, she was more concerned with the fast approaching ground though and the fact that Cadell was reaching back for a third arrow. Unheard of. She had no choice, her knife was still safely secured in her boot sheathe and Cadell was about to notch another arrow.
