the left side of his chest and penetrating toward the left
side of his back.
He froze in
mid-swing, his sword arm drooped, and he stared down at the arrow
jutting from his chest. Then he dropped to his knees, suddenly the
same height as the dwarves around him. The dwarf he had kicked put
a foot against his stomach and shoved him onto his back.
A subdued
silence fell. Tira unstrung her bow, passed it to Tam, and handed
him the quiver as well. Then she set off across the grass, hoping
to find the man still alive. Dwarves were clustered around him,
blocking the light, so that he was just a dark outline on the
ground. She could hear him breathing, moaning with every inhalation
and exhalation, and her stomach twisted with regret.
The sound
stopped as she reached him.
Chapter 6
The five of
them made a gloomy procession as they crossed the bridge the next
morning. They were crossing free of charge, with cheerful dwarves
waving from the walls behind them. Sari and Lina had made friends
in the town, and waved back with long, melancholy faces. Mikail,
though he denied having touched the dwarf beer, was clearly hung
over, sagging in the saddle and wincing with every step the pony
took. Tira was exhausted after a long night of watching the big man
die over and over in her dreams. Only Tam seemed to have come
through the experience unscathed. He sat on the wagon bench,
clucking at the mule, looking as if he was glad to be going
home.
Tira kept her
bow strung for most of the morning, and kept her eyes open for any
trace of goblins. Or bandits, for that matter, but she thought the
threat of goblins would be enough to keep bandits away. She
unstrung the bow at midday when the trees gave way to open
grasslands.
In early
afternoon they passed a dead horse lying in the ditch. There was no
saddle or bridle, and scavengers had picked it down to little more
than bones. A quarter of a mile later, they found two more horses.
Soon after that, they came to a crossroads where they found a pair
of freshly-dug graves and a pile of human remains.
The girls,
already disturbed by the dead horses, kept their faces turned away
as the cart rolled past. Mikail rode over to take a closer look,
then turned away, looking a bit green. Tira's horse laid his ears
back, wanting nothing to do with the smell of death, so she climbed
down from the saddle and walked over to the bodies.
There wasn't
much left. Four or five people had been dumped in the ditch. Like
the horses, the bodies had been largely stripped of flesh. There
were tattered scraps of clothing, and boots that had been gnawed to
pieces. It was not the first time she had encountered corpses, and
she stared down at the bones and bits of flesh, trying to figure
out why her instincts were telling her that something was
wrong.
"What do you
think happened?"
She looked up.
Tam stood beside her, looking pale but composed. The cart and the
children waited just up the road, far enough away to be free of the
smell.
"There was a
fight," she said, working it out as she spoke. "They lost some
horses, and went back later to strip off their gear and drag them
into the ditch." She gestured at the graves. "The winners took some
casualties." She pointed at the unburied bodies. "These were the
losers. But something's not right."
"What could
kill someone like that?" Tam asked.
"What do you
mean?"
"Well, they've
been ripped to pieces." He pointed at the bones in the ditch.
"Look, those two legs don't even point the same way, but it's the
same person. The boots match."
He was right.
Scavengers would have scattered some of the bones, but almost
nothing was intact on these corpses. She made herself move closer,
and squatted to examine the ends of a thigh bone.
"They were
chopped up," she said, suppressing a shudder. "Someone killed these
people, and then cut them into pieces." She stood and backed away,
breathing deeply until the sweet, cloying smell of the corpses was
gone from her nostrils.
"But why?"
side of his back.
He froze in
mid-swing, his sword arm drooped, and he stared down at the arrow
jutting from his chest. Then he dropped to his knees, suddenly the
same height as the dwarves around him. The dwarf he had kicked put
a foot against his stomach and shoved him onto his back.
A subdued
silence fell. Tira unstrung her bow, passed it to Tam, and handed
him the quiver as well. Then she set off across the grass, hoping
to find the man still alive. Dwarves were clustered around him,
blocking the light, so that he was just a dark outline on the
ground. She could hear him breathing, moaning with every inhalation
and exhalation, and her stomach twisted with regret.
The sound
stopped as she reached him.
Chapter 6
The five of
them made a gloomy procession as they crossed the bridge the next
morning. They were crossing free of charge, with cheerful dwarves
waving from the walls behind them. Sari and Lina had made friends
in the town, and waved back with long, melancholy faces. Mikail,
though he denied having touched the dwarf beer, was clearly hung
over, sagging in the saddle and wincing with every step the pony
took. Tira was exhausted after a long night of watching the big man
die over and over in her dreams. Only Tam seemed to have come
through the experience unscathed. He sat on the wagon bench,
clucking at the mule, looking as if he was glad to be going
home.
Tira kept her
bow strung for most of the morning, and kept her eyes open for any
trace of goblins. Or bandits, for that matter, but she thought the
threat of goblins would be enough to keep bandits away. She
unstrung the bow at midday when the trees gave way to open
grasslands.
In early
afternoon they passed a dead horse lying in the ditch. There was no
saddle or bridle, and scavengers had picked it down to little more
than bones. A quarter of a mile later, they found two more horses.
Soon after that, they came to a crossroads where they found a pair
of freshly-dug graves and a pile of human remains.
The girls,
already disturbed by the dead horses, kept their faces turned away
as the cart rolled past. Mikail rode over to take a closer look,
then turned away, looking a bit green. Tira's horse laid his ears
back, wanting nothing to do with the smell of death, so she climbed
down from the saddle and walked over to the bodies.
There wasn't
much left. Four or five people had been dumped in the ditch. Like
the horses, the bodies had been largely stripped of flesh. There
were tattered scraps of clothing, and boots that had been gnawed to
pieces. It was not the first time she had encountered corpses, and
she stared down at the bones and bits of flesh, trying to figure
out why her instincts were telling her that something was
wrong.
"What do you
think happened?"
She looked up.
Tam stood beside her, looking pale but composed. The cart and the
children waited just up the road, far enough away to be free of the
smell.
"There was a
fight," she said, working it out as she spoke. "They lost some
horses, and went back later to strip off their gear and drag them
into the ditch." She gestured at the graves. "The winners took some
casualties." She pointed at the unburied bodies. "These were the
losers. But something's not right."
"What could
kill someone like that?" Tam asked.
"What do you
mean?"
"Well, they've
been ripped to pieces." He pointed at the bones in the ditch.
"Look, those two legs don't even point the same way, but it's the
same person. The boots match."
He was right.
Scavengers would have scattered some of the bones, but almost
nothing was intact on these corpses. She made herself move closer,
and squatted to examine the ends of a thigh bone.
"They were
chopped up," she said, suppressing a shudder. "Someone killed these
people, and then cut them into pieces." She stood and backed away,
breathing deeply until the sweet, cloying smell of the corpses was
gone from her nostrils.
"But why?"
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