The man raised the dragon paw to parry the sword. Aric’s heavy steel blade crashed through the paw’s wooden shaft and bit into the man’s head, carving a deep gash above his ear. The man cried out, hurled his weapon aside and clapped his hands to his head as he fell to his knees. Aric kicked him in the chest and he went down.
But the kick unbalanced Aric again. He caught himself on his hands, just as the other fellow drove his spear’s keen obsidian tip at Aric again. Aric tried to dodge but his foot slid on the rocky slope, and the point scraped his ribs. Aric, still unbalanced, batted the spear away with one hand and shoved his sword point-down toward the ground to keep from falling. Only the sword’s length kept him from tumbling down the slope.
The brute charged, spear outthrust for the killing blow. When Aric tried to turn to face the man, his weight on the ancient sword bowed and snapped it with a loud crack. Most of the blade’s length skidded down the hill. Aric dropped to one knee, ducking under the thrusting spear and bringing the remains of his weapon, about four inches of blade, up at the same time. The brute’s momentum carried him past Aric’s shoulder, and those four inches of steel sank into his gut. Blood drenched Aric’s hand and arm. The brute spun away from him, tearing the stub of a sword from Aric’s grasp, and rolled down the slope.
Aric picked up the fallen spear. It was not a weapon he had any familiarity with, but he’d rather learn it fast than be without any.
Amoni had finished off her elf opponent, and with those enemies dispatched, the way to the hilltop was clear. Below, the thri-kreen had cut a swath through the raiders. A glance at the far ridge showed the same thing happening there, but Aric was moving too fast, he and Amoni helping Myrana up the steep, treacherous crest of the ridge, to see if he could spot Ruhm or Sellis.
Then they were over the top and working down the other side, panting from the hurried climb. On this side the sunlight seemed brighter and hotter, the sky a brighter olive, the sounds of battle dimmed.
They rushed as much as they could down the slope, balancing between trying to move quickly and not wanting to send cascades of rock and dirt down to announce their presence. Somewhere on this side, three more raiders waited with the mounts.
Once they neared the bottom, they smelled the animals, then saw their guards. They raiders had corralled the beasts in a makeshift pen. Using a natural cutaway in the hillside, they blocked the open side with branches and brush. One raider slept while the other two gambled with fragments of white bone. Aric, Myrana and Amoni cut across the slope toward them.
When they were almost directly above the guards, one of the erdlus sniffed the air and gave a warbling cry of alarm. The guards dropped their bits of bone and snatched up weapons. Aric and Amoni took a couple of running steps and launched themselves into the air.
Amoni crashed into one of the guards, bowling him over. Aric landed hard, a couple of feet before his man. He bent his knees upon landing and sprang up fast, thrusting with the unfamiliar spear.
His opponent, a battle-scarred veteran wearing vestiges of a Tyrian military uniform, moved away from the thrust and swung a fang-spiked morningstar at him. The heavy weapon whistled inches above Aric’s head, as he ducked the blow and lost his footing. He sprawled on the ground, spear under his belly. The wound he’d suffered earlier sent darting pains though him, but he rolled over quickly and jabbed the spear’s obsidian point into the veteran’s ankle.
The man screamed. He put his weight on his good leg and tried to raise the morningstar again. He went off balance and stumbled to correct himself, giving Aric time to push to his feet and drive the spear into the veteran’s chest. The veteran looked at him with a shocked expression, and slowly sank to the ground.
Aric snatched away the morningstar as the man fell, with Aric’s new spear locked in his chest. The guard who had been sleeping was sitting up. Amoni, having slain her foe, spun her cahulaks on their rope, and the guard dodged right and left to avoid them. He lunged for a crossbow he had set aside before going to sleep. Aric hurled the morningstar. It struck the guard’s hand, cutting him and bouncing away. The guard snatched back his hand, and one of Amoni’s cahulaks’ heads drove into his abdomen.
The mounts were stamping and squealing, but all three guards were dead. Aric helped Myrana down from the slope.
“Grab some erdlus!” he shouted. Amoni was standing in the midst of them but had not yet moved to secure any. “We need five of them.”
“Five?” Amoni asked. “We are only three!”
“For Sellis and Ruhm?” Myrana speculated. “Yes. We have to go back for them.”
“Why?” Amoni asked. “They’re our friends.”
“But they’re—”
“What? Probably dead? They might be. But they might be alive, too. Until we find out …”
“What of the demon? Warning Nibenay?”
“We need to see if they’re alive.” Aric said. “We can’t just leave them.”
Amoni didn’t argue further. Despite the talk he’d had with her, she was still more comfortable taking orders than questioning them. Within a few moments, each was mounted on a sturdy bird, taller than Aric and slightly heavier. They’d tied ropes around the necks of two others, which Aric and Amoni held. Aric leaned over the guard he had killed, grabbing his spear’s shaft and tugging it free.
Myrana led the way out of the makeshift corral. They left it open behind them and nudged the erdlus into a sprint. Aric glanced back to see kanks and erdlus emerging from the corral and wandering into the desert.
The erdlu’s feathers tickled his legs and arms. He tilted forward, holding onto the thing’s thick neck, a scent like almost-spoiled meat filling his nose. He directed the creature by applying pressure with his hands and knees, and after a few minutes he began to feel like he and the bird were in sync. The thing moved at a brisk but ungainly trot, swaying Aric from side to side with every long stride.
Once they were moving at full speed, Aric’s beast passed Myrana’s. He led them around the line of hills, to the canyon’s narrow end. As they neared the pass they could again hear the sounds of battle. The big bird didn’t want to enter the pass, but Aric kept up the pressure. They went into the canyon, cooled suddenly by deep shade.
To Aric’s delight, the raiders had given up fighting and were trying to escape. Thri-kreen warriors gave chase. Many had fallen, on both sides, but more raiders than insect men.
Scanning the scene, he couldn’t see Ruhm or Sellis. “Where are they?” Myrana shouted. “Sellis!”
“Quiet, Myrana!” came a hushed voice from behind a thick stand of brush. “You’ll give us away!”
Sellis emerged, then Ruhm, looking as if he’d had to fold himself in quarters to hide behind the bushes. “We hid,” Ruhm said.
“So I see,” Aric replied. “Here, we brought you mounts.”
“The thri-kreen went after the raiders,” Sellis explained. “So we decided to make for the pass. When we saw you three go over the top, we guessed that’s where you’d end up.”
“If you made it,” Ruhm added. Eternally optimistic.
“We made it,” Myrana said. “But if you don’t get on these birds we might not make it far.”
Ruhm and Sellis climbed the rest of the way down the hill and took over the erdlus. Ruhm’s staggered under his weight, then righted itself, as if considering the half-giant a challenge to which it would not concede defeat. They turned the birds around and rode back out of the pass and into open desert.
“We’ll give a wide berth to these hills,” Aric called. “Then make for Nibenay again, and pray this whole encounter hasn’t delayed us overmuch.”
Ruhm got a look at the obsidian-pointed spear Aric was still carrying. “Where’s your sword?” he asked.