isn’t the only thing I’ve learned to do with knives.”
He yanked his dagger from his belt, handed it to me, then pulled another from his boot. “That’s all I have.”
Better than none.
“I guess that’s your answer,” Red Beard said. “Don’t kill the girl,” he ordered his men.
Red Beard stepped forward to engage Belen. Two others also joined the fight. Because Belen kept me and the rocky hillside behind him, there wasn’t room for the other three, and they couldn’t grab me, either.
The fierce intensity and the speed of the fight surprised me. Belen’s calm demeanor remained, and for the first minute, it appeared he had the upper hand. Then the men switched places in one smooth move and now Belen faced three fresh opponents.
That was how they wore him down, by taking turns. I waited for an opportunity to throw my knives, thinking I’d hit their arm or shoulder, but no one would stand still long enough. I had always practiced with a stationary target. No reason not to; I’d never imagined I’d be in this situation in my lifetime.
When Belen’s swings slowed, I knew I had to help him. Even if it was accidental, killing a person went against my nature, so I aimed low and hoped for the best. My first knife pierced one man’s thigh. He yelled and staggered away from the fight. Beginner’s luck didn’t last as the second dagger sailed right by another man.
Then all I could do was watch as they harried Belen, tiring him out. I offered to surrender again, but he just growled.
Red Beard entered the fray again. He feinted left and dipped his thinner blade under Belen’s and straight into his stomach. Belen grunted as I yelled. But he kept swinging. Red Beard continued to snake past his defenses and stab his blade’s tip into Belen’s gut. Eventually, Belen collapsed.
With a cry, I knelt next to him.
Blood soaked his tunic. He thrust his sword into my hands. “Don’t give up.”
I staggered to my feet, holding the heavy blade. The men smirked until I charged, letting my fury over Belen’s injuries fuel my attack.
CHAPTER 6
The men sidestepped, avoiding the tip of Belen’s sword. I turned to charge again, but this time Red Beard knocked the heavy blade aside with his, redirecting my momentum. Belen’s weapon dragged me to the side. Red Beard moved in close and yanked the hilt from my hands.
Then he grabbed my upper arm. “Come on, let’s go.”
I resisted. “I have to heal—”
“No time. He …” Red Beard squeezed my biceps as he scanned the area.
I copied him. Glancing around, I counted five. The magic sniffer had disappeared.
“Where’s Conner?” Red Beard asked his men.
At first they exchanged confused glances, but then they realized the danger. Red Beard pulled me to where Belen lay, keeping his back to the rocks and me in front of him like a shield. His men fanned out in front of us, facing toward the woods. Red Beard sheathed his sword and drew a knife. He pressed it against my throat. Without thought, I grabbed his wrist, trying to pull the weapon away from my neck, but he rumbled a warning. Stopping my efforts, I left my hand on his arm.
“I have your girl. Come out now or I’ll slit her throat,” Red Beard called.
Nothing.
“I can collect the bounty whether she’s dead or alive.”
A rustle and then Kerrick emerged from the brush. The fabric of his tunic and pants blended in with the surrounding landscape, but his face, hands and hair remained normal. I was impressed with his level of control despite myself.
The knife cut into my skin and I hissed at the sharp sting.
“Keep your hands where I can see them,” Red Beard ordered.
Kerrick appeared to be unarmed. His gaze dropped to Belen’s prone form, then returned to Red Beard’s. “I have enough gold to pay you the bounty. Take it and go.”
Red Beard laughed. “She’s worth forty golds if brought in alive. I doubt—”
Moving slowly, Kerrick dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a black bag. Coins rattled within.
Red Beard sucked in a breath. “Axe, check it out.”
One of the men snatched the bag from Kerrick. He opened it and poured gold coins into his hand. The young man’s voice squeaked when he reported the count. Forty.
Red Beard tensed. “Where’s my sniffer?”
“Does it matter?” Kerrick asked.
A moment passed. “No.”
Just when I thought he would let me go, Red Beard tightened his hold on me. He laughed. “You’re a fool,” he said to Kerrick. “Now we’ll get eighty golds. Forty from you and forty from Tohon.”
Kerrick’s gaze flickered to my hand still resting on Red Beard’s—a warning. Magic grew inside me, pushing to be released, but I waited for Kerrick’s signal.
“That’s rather greedy,” he said in a conversational tone. Kerrick gestured to the young man drooling over the gold coins in his hand. “You’re not setting the proper example for your young friend here. I would never do that. Isn’t that right, Flea?”
“That’s right,” Flea called from above. We all glanced up. Flea, Quain and Loren stood on the rocks above.
“Now,” Kerrick ordered.
I sent a blast of pain into Red Beard as Flea and the monkeys jumped down. Red Beard swore. I twisted away from his knife and held on to his arm with both hands, sending in another intense wave of pain. Red Beard collapsed onto his knees. Sounds of fighting increased for a moment before dying down. By the time Red Beard slumped to the ground unconscious, the others had been … I wish I could say disarmed, but they had been killed.
I rounded on Kerrick in outrage. But he knelt next to Belen so I swallowed my accusations. All color had fled Belen’s face. His lips had turned a bluish-gray. I sank next to him and put my hand on his sweaty forehead.
“Is she safe?” he asked Kerrick.
“Yes.” As usual, Kerrick showed no emotion.
Belen sighed wetly.
“No,” I said. “I’m not safe, Belen. Who is going to tear Kerrick’s arm off if he hits me again? Come on,” I urged. “Stay with us.”
Kerrick met my gaze. “Can you heal him?”
“I don’t know. I need to examine the wounds.”
He shot to his feet. “Gentlemen, we need a litter. Now.”
The others had been hanging back, but they surged into action. I held Belen’s hand. My magic swelled and pressed to be released, but I kept it in check. If he was savable, I would need complete concentration.
Faster than I thought possible, they constructed a litter. Rolling Belen onto the lattice of branches, Loren and Quain pulled the big man. We didn’t go far. Kerrick knew of a cave system—of course.
The men made torches, but maneuvering the litter through the tight passages of the cave slowed our progress. I kept talking to Belen, encouraging him to keep awake and stay focused. When we reached a cavern that met Kerrick’s approval, I ordered the others to build a fire and heat water. I didn’t really need the water, but it gave them all something to do. Except Kerrick; he hovered over my shoulder, providing light.
I yanked Belen’s shirt up. His stomach resembled a ball after a dog chewed on it. It was amazing Belen had lasted this long. The rank odor of blood, stomach acid and feces wafted off of him. Kerrick stifled a cough.