Maybe it had to be enough.
Rashid opened his mouth to ask another question, to dissect the moment, to explore our quaintly absurd "superstitions"… but he was interrupted by an arrow speeding out of the darkness and an explosion of violet flame.
FIVE
A Bribe for Bonnakkut
A second arrow followed on the nock of the first and this time I had a better glimpse of what happened. The arrow shot straight for Rashid's un-helmeted skull; but before it penetrated his temple, the arrowhead struck an invisible barrier and vaporized in a crackling burst of violet light. That arrowhead was made of flint, flint which blazed like straw falling into a blacksmith's forge… and the flame burned so hot, it incinerated the arrow's shaft and fletching with the same gout of fire. The flash left an afterimage of purple streaked across my vision, but in the ensuing darkness, I could Wearily see a violet outline surrounding Rashid from head to toe.
The outline extended around Steck, still cuddled against Rashid's knee.
Another arrow brought another eye-watering explosion as the barb struck the violet fringe… and it occurred to me, Leeta and I should hightail it out of the target area before we regretted not having violet fringes of our own. I looked around for Leeta, intending to shield her with my body as we crawled away — it's a man's duty to safeguard the women of his village. Leeta, however, had already scurried into the darkness on her own initiative; so instead of making a strategic withdrawal as the heroic protector of a vulnerable woman, I scuttled into the bushes like a raccoon caught stealing garbage.
I found a place to crouch behind a bigger-than-average birch and waited as a flurry of violet flashes speckled the blackness. How many archers were out there? Probably the whole Warriors Society. Cappie must have dragged them out of their beds when she got back to town, and they'd followed Steck's heavy-booted tracks from the marsh to this clearing. The first few arrows were aimed at Rashid, so Cappie must have told the men about his stink-smoke weapon; now the shots split half and half between knight and Neut, trying to pierce the violet barrier that shielded the two.
"Is this really necessary?" Rashid called over the crack and sizzle of arrows burning. "My force field was designed by some very smart beings in the League of Peoples. Unless you're carrying laser rifles or gas bombs, you don't have a chance of touching us."
As far as I could see, he was right: the barrage was a waste of arrows. Then again, men of the Warriors Society weren't famous for developing new strategies. If something didn't fall down when they hit it with a stick, they'd try again with a bigger stick. If they emptied their quivers on Rashid and Steck, the Warriors would probably whack away with spears, and swords, and that big steel ax our First Warrior Bonnakkut always bragged about.
It put me in a quandary, that ax. Did I want to close my eyes when Bonnakkut swung it at Rashid, so I wouldn't be dazzled when the ax exploded? Or did I want to watch, so I'd see the expression on Bonnakkut's face when his precious baby turned to smoke in his hands?
Tough choice. A flash that big might permanently blind me, but it could be worth it to see Bonnakkut reduced to steamy tears. Why did I hate him so much? Let's just say Warrior Bonnakkut was not a music lover. He was five years older than me, and had always been jealous of the attention I got for being talented. Bonnakkut wasn't talented; he was only big and strong and mean. Apparently that was enough to win his way to the top of the Warriors Society in record time.
You had to worry about the safety of Tober Cove, if this ineffectual volley of arrows was typical of Bonnakkut's "tactics."
Rashid did nothing despite the commotion. He continued to sit on the ledge where he'd watched the dance, one arm wrapped around the Neut's shoulders. With his other hand, he shielded his eyes from the bursts of violet flame that flared a finger's width away from his face. I had to admire his composure; if I were the target of so many archers I'd be flinching constantly, no matter how protected I was by diabolic fires.
The arrows were still flying when Leeta stuck her head from behind a nearby tree and called, "I'm only a foolish woman, but perhaps you might humor me." Those words always started a Mocking Priestess homily, and Tober custom dictated that people stop what they were doing to let her speak. I figured it was fifty-fifty whether Bonnakkut would let the other warriors quit shooting; but maybe he thought Leeta would suggest a more effective way of killing the outsiders, and he was ready to listen. The forest fell silent: no thrum of bows, no cracks of flame.
Leeta cleared her throat. "I just wanted to say perhaps you should save your arrows for when they might be useful. It's exciting to watch them go pop and make pretty lights… but suppose a wildcat or bear shows up in the pastures before Fletcher Wingham has a chance to make more ammunition. We'd lose sheep and cattle, wouldn't we? People wouldn't like that."
"They don't like Neuts either," a deep voice shouted back. Bonnakkut, of course.
"That's true," Leeta agreed, "but your arrows aren't solving the Neut problem, are they?"
"There is no Neut problem," Rashid said, rising to his feet. Steck stood quickly too, wrapping an arm around Rashid's waist; I could just make out the violet glow surrounding both of them. "Steck and I won't harm anything," Rashid went on. "We just want to observe your ceremony tomorrow."
"You can't," Bonnakkut snapped. "Steck was banished twenty years ago, legal and proper. And Cappie said you claim to be a scientist. That's against the law too."
"All these laws against being something," Rashid grimaced. "Don't you have any laws against doing things? Like trying to kill visitors who come in peace?"
Steck said, "The Patriarch was not noted for his hospitality."
"I'm prepared to be lenient," Bonnakkut said in an unlenient tone of voice. "If you leave immediately, we'll let you go."
"Oh, very generous." Rashid rolled his eyes.
"Otherwise, we'll kill you here and now."
If those words had been said by anyone but Bonnakkut, I might have held my tongue; but I'd hated him ever since he was a twelve-year-old girl who shoved my sheet music down an outhouse hole. I couldn't pass up the chance to rub his nose in his inadequacies, even if it meant siding with outsiders. "Come on, Bonnakkut," I shouted from the cover of the bushes, "you can't make a dent in these two. Stop pretending to be effective and escort them back to the cove. Let the mayor and council sort out this mess."
Bushes rustled on the far side of the clearing and Bonnakkut stepped out. In the darkness, I could only make out his silhouette: massive shoulders, massive chest, massive ax held in one hand. "So," he said, pointing the ax-head at me, "look who's become a Neut lover. Why doesn't that surprise me?"
"It surprises me," Steck said, craning Its Neut neck to peer at me. "Where'd you find this sudden streak of common sense?"
"The solstice dance breeds common sense," Leeta answered, saving me the trouble of an excuse. "The dance puts things in perspective."
"And while we're brimming over with perspective," Rashid said brightly, "shall we go to Tober Cove?"
"Taking you to the cove would start a riot," Bonnakkut replied, planting himself and his ax squarely in front of us all. "We don't want riots."
"Neither do I," Rashid assured him. "I'm one hundred percent in favor of tranquillity. You're some kind of local town guard?"
"I'm Bonnakkut, First Warrior of the Tober Warriors Society. I protect the peace."
"Hence, the repetition of 'warrior' in your official title," Rashid murmured. Then in a louder voice, he said, "I happen to be carrying an official peace offering for the leader of the local constabulary. This seems like an excellent time to pass it on."