“They will when I don’t make the first move,” Ceadrin said. “I still command this party.”
The halfling shot him a look that Ceadrin didn’t see because he was eyeing Myrana. Aric wondered if the little man thought he—or more likely the female halfling who seemed to be second in seniority—should be in charge of the band. Perhaps she had even challenged Ceadrin in the past. Some of her scars had seemed of recent vintage.
Ceadrin moved off down the hill to join others watching the approaching thri-kreen intently. He spoke quiet words to them, most likely telling them not to engage the group. The halfling watched the prisoners for a couple more minutes before his attention also wandered back toward the thri-kreen. By now they were clearly visible, racing up the valley floor on those powerful legs.
“Do you think they saw your signal?” Myrana whispered.
Aric shrugged. “We’ll find out soon.”
As the thri-kreen came closer, movement from the raiders ceased. They had taken their places behind boulders and bushes, as if prepared for ambush, but they didn’t want to attract the attention of a group of thri-kreen numbering more than they had. They would wait and watch and hope.
Aric made his extremities stop jittering around. He rested his hand on the sword hilt, drawing comfort from its steel. Amoni seemed on edge as well, her muscles tense, ready for a fight. Only Myrana appeared relaxed, now that Ceadrin was gone.
As the sun rose high enough over the far hills to flood the canyon floor, the thri-kreen started to pass below them. Aric could make out individual faces, but to him the thirty or more imposing insect men all looked the same. Huge black multifaceted eyes glittered in the sunlight, antennae bobbed as they ran. The clicking of their mandibles was audible even far up on the hill. They wore no clothing to speak of, although some had harnesses or belts from which they suspended weapons and belongings. Every one of them carried weapons in their upper limbs, the middle set of arms being far the weakest of their six limbs. They were especially fond of gythkas and chatkchas. Many also carried shields of wood or shell.
Every raider’s gaze was riveted on them. The halfling and another raider, a muscular, heavily tattooed human with only one eye and a nasty scar snaking down from his empty left socket to the corner of his mouth, sat behind the captives, so that even while watching the thri-kreen they could see if Aric, Myrana, or Amoni tried anything. Aric wondered if he should make a move anyway. If they could take out those guards quietly, perhaps he, Amoni and Myrana could go up over the crest of the hill and come down on the other side, then capture some mounts.
And then what? Go back into either a battle or a troop of thri-kreen warriors for Ruhm and Sellis? Abandon them? Neither option was a good one. Myrana would have a hard time on the uphill sprint. If they were seen, the raiders need not call attention to themselves, at all. A few could chase them over the hill and catch them on the other side of the hill without the thri-kreen seeing anything.
No, there was nothing to do but hope and wait until an opportunity presented itself.
“They’re going,” the one-eyed human said softly. “Thank Ral and Guthay, they’re passing us by.”
At that moment, the thri-kreen attacked.
They broke formation without notice, many of the insect men sprang off their strong legs, some landing thirty or forty feet up the hillside.
As they charged, the raiders responded, knowing they hadn’t gone unseen after all. They shoved over huge stones, fired arrows, hurled javelins. Most of the weapons clattered off thri-kreen shields. A hurtling boulder smashed into one, who gave a chittering wail as it died. Others simply leapt over the oncoming rocks and kept swarming up the hillside.
With howls and battle cries, the raiders left their hiding places and rushed to meet the thri-kreen. A crystalline chatkcha arced through the air and crushed one raider’s skull. A thri-kreen engaged a half-elf raider, gythka to sword, the gythka’s crescent blades at each end spinning around and the stabbing blade in the center keeping the raider at bay until the mantis man finally cut the half-elf’s leg, then pierced his heart.
“Aric, look!” Myrana said, grabbing his upper leg. She pointed to the ridge across the canyon. Aric saw nothing, at first, then realized that was the point.
“They’re staying hidden,” he said. “The thri-kreen don’t know there’s anybody up there, and the raiders like it that way.”
“They’d rather see their fellows slaughtered than take a chance on joining the fight,” Amoni said. She spat into the dirt. “Cowards.”
“The fight won’t take long, then,” Aric said. “With the raiders at full strength, we might have a chance. But with half, we’ll be swiftly dispatched.”
He stood suddenly and drew his sword. “What are you doing?” the halfling guard demanded.
“They’ll be up here any moment,” Aric said. “If you think we’re not defending ourselves …”
“Oh, let them come,” the halfling said. “There’ll be more than a bug or two slain before they get here.”
Amoni and Myrana followed suit, rising and drawing weapons.
And across the way, a boulder sailed from the hillside, crashing to the canyon floor behind the startled thri-kreen who hadn’t yet climbed the slope.
Surprised shouts followed in the boulder’s wake.
Thri-kreen peeled off from the first wave of attack and started up the opposite hill. The battle was fully engaged, on both fronts. The raiders had the edge of height, but the ferocity of thri-kreen warriors couldn’t be understated. Aric watched one grab a raider and plant its mandibles into her arm, injecting venom that froze her in place. The thri-kreen dispatched her with a quick stab from its gythka and turned to face its next opponent.
The time had come. Aric spun around without warning and buried his sword in the one-eyed man’s chest. The raider’s single eye bulged, his jaw dropped open, and blood burbled out. Aric withdrew the blade and more blood spurted from the wound.
The halfling started toward Aric. Amoni blocked his way, her cahulaks whipping through the air. One four-bladed head sliced through the halfling’s arm, then the other sliced up his chest and chin.
Aric grabbed Myrana’s arm and hoisted her to her feet. “Come on!” he urged. “Over the hill!”
“But.… Sellis and Ruhm!”
He hadn’t yet figured out that part of it. Ruhm and Sellis were capable. Even now they had to be fighting their own way clear.
An elf raider bounded toward them with a bone axe in both hands. “Stop where you are! We’re not done with you!”
“Yes, you are,” Amoni said. She met the elf’s advance. Aric took advantage of the moment to lead Myrana up the slope. The soil was loose, sliding under his feet. They had to dig in, sidestepping up. It was hard for Myrana, so Aric took a step, braced, and hauled her up beside him, then moved on to the next.
Before they reached the crest, two more raiders raced to intercept their escape. One was a brutish human or part-human of a breed Aric didn’t recognize, the other a stout, bronze-skinned man who looked to be from Draj.
Aric released Myrana’s hand and slashed at the brute, who blocked the blow with a chitin shield and stabbed with the short spear he carried. Aric sidestepped the spear thrust. His foot came down awkwardly on the uneven ground and slid out from under him. The second man jabbed with a dragon paw. Swinging his heavy sword, Aric caught the dragon paw’s jab, deflecting the weapon and continuing his blade’s sweep toward the man’s skull.