shuddered into silence. Korendir reached the wall, unslung belt in hand. Again he shouted, but not before Haldeth raised the outer bar. Utterly deaf to his peril, the smith flung wide the gate.
Torchlight grazed flickering highlights across bronze as the heavy grille swung inward. The white expanse of a footpath glimmered through the gloom beyond. At first glance it appeared deserted, but a closer look showed a red-cheeked country matron with a bucket; two pretty, dark-eyed daughters clung to her gray wool skirts. The sight of Haldeth lit their faces with radiant welcome. The girls called to their father and joyously skipped toward the gate.
Haldeth gasped in hoarse disbelief. “Lindey!” He surged forward.
“No!” Korendir jerked his friend cruelly back. “Lindey’s dead, slaughtered by Mhurgai along with both of your children.”
Haldeth twisted around in rebuttal. He lifted his torch in a vicious swing straight at his companion’s head.
Korendir ducked, showered by sparks. “Lindey’s dead! Anthei’s conjured her image to trap you.”
Haldeth wrenched free. The child in the lead had nearly reached his outstretched hand. Left no space for finesse, Korendir spun the smith away and chopped his hold free of the latch. Next he whipped his belt in a wide arc before him. The buckle passed clean through the cheek of the running little girl. Her face crumpled, marred like a reflection on ruffled water. Briefly Korendir glimpsed spread claws and a ravening beast’s mouth before Anthei’s illusion restored the innocent features of a child. Without break in motion, he hooked his belt on a wrought bronze spike and dragged the gate panel shut. The bar fell with a clank. Korendir stepped back. Narrowly spared from one threat, he had no thought for another. The fist that slammed his shoulder from behind caught him utterly unprepared.
Korendir staggered sideways in a half-spin. Blinded by flamelight as Haldeth jabbed the torch at his face, he blocked the attack with his forearm. Fire licked his sleeve. Seared by pain, he shouted again. “Lindey’s dead!”
Crazed by Anthei’s sorceries, Haldeth charged in for another blow. Korendir lashed back with the belt, then launched shoulder first into his companion’s stomach. Haldeth clawed for balance and fell. He dropped the torch. Fire laced through dried grass and lit the hellish struggles of the men.
Locked in conflict, Korendir and Haldeth rolled across the ground. Crushed against a shoulder corded with muscle from the forge, Korendir counterstruck with precision. Haldeth jerked once. He released his hold on a grunt of agony, and the fight raged on in unchecked, primordial ferocity. The grass fire spread by the torch became quenched by tumbling bodies.
Trapped in a second hold, Korendir fought to suck air past the knuckles which ground at his windpipe. Dizzied to the edge of consciousness, he banged his belt buckle edgewise on the side of Haldeth’s skull. The smith’s head snapped back, a nasty gash opened above the ear; his arms went mercifully limp. Korendir shook off his friend’s unconscious bulk and swore with expressive vehemence. After a pause to assess his own damages, he arose and searched with bleeding fingers among the grass until he hooked the cord of Snail’s hackamore. He used the reins to bind Haldeth hand and foot. Then, after a lingering glance toward Anthei’s darkened tower, he fetched the pan used to mix barley dough and stumbled through the dunes to fetch seawater.
* * *
Haldeth groaned as Korendir knelt to cleanse the cut on his scalp. The sting of salt water roused him back to consciousness, and the first words he uttered framed a ritual malediction that would have shaken a seasoned man-at-arms. Korendir continued his ministrations without twitching a muscle. He rinsed the blood from Haldeth’s hair, emptied the fouled pan over a tuft of smouldering grass, then returned and looped his belt securely around the smith’s neck. Haldeth’s
Torchlight grazed flickering highlights across bronze as the heavy grille swung inward. The white expanse of a footpath glimmered through the gloom beyond. At first glance it appeared deserted, but a closer look showed a red-cheeked country matron with a bucket; two pretty, dark-eyed daughters clung to her gray wool skirts. The sight of Haldeth lit their faces with radiant welcome. The girls called to their father and joyously skipped toward the gate.
Haldeth gasped in hoarse disbelief. “Lindey!” He surged forward.
“No!” Korendir jerked his friend cruelly back. “Lindey’s dead, slaughtered by Mhurgai along with both of your children.”
Haldeth twisted around in rebuttal. He lifted his torch in a vicious swing straight at his companion’s head.
Korendir ducked, showered by sparks. “Lindey’s dead! Anthei’s conjured her image to trap you.”
Haldeth wrenched free. The child in the lead had nearly reached his outstretched hand. Left no space for finesse, Korendir spun the smith away and chopped his hold free of the latch. Next he whipped his belt in a wide arc before him. The buckle passed clean through the cheek of the running little girl. Her face crumpled, marred like a reflection on ruffled water. Briefly Korendir glimpsed spread claws and a ravening beast’s mouth before Anthei’s illusion restored the innocent features of a child. Without break in motion, he hooked his belt on a wrought bronze spike and dragged the gate panel shut. The bar fell with a clank. Korendir stepped back. Narrowly spared from one threat, he had no thought for another. The fist that slammed his shoulder from behind caught him utterly unprepared.
Korendir staggered sideways in a half-spin. Blinded by flamelight as Haldeth jabbed the torch at his face, he blocked the attack with his forearm. Fire licked his sleeve. Seared by pain, he shouted again. “Lindey’s dead!”
Crazed by Anthei’s sorceries, Haldeth charged in for another blow. Korendir lashed back with the belt, then launched shoulder first into his companion’s stomach. Haldeth clawed for balance and fell. He dropped the torch. Fire laced through dried grass and lit the hellish struggles of the men.
Locked in conflict, Korendir and Haldeth rolled across the ground. Crushed against a shoulder corded with muscle from the forge, Korendir counterstruck with precision. Haldeth jerked once. He released his hold on a grunt of agony, and the fight raged on in unchecked, primordial ferocity. The grass fire spread by the torch became quenched by tumbling bodies.
Trapped in a second hold, Korendir fought to suck air past the knuckles which ground at his windpipe. Dizzied to the edge of consciousness, he banged his belt buckle edgewise on the side of Haldeth’s skull. The smith’s head snapped back, a nasty gash opened above the ear; his arms went mercifully limp. Korendir shook off his friend’s unconscious bulk and swore with expressive vehemence. After a pause to assess his own damages, he arose and searched with bleeding fingers among the grass until he hooked the cord of Snail’s hackamore. He used the reins to bind Haldeth hand and foot. Then, after a lingering glance toward Anthei’s darkened tower, he fetched the pan used to mix barley dough and stumbled through the dunes to fetch seawater.
* * *
Haldeth groaned as Korendir knelt to cleanse the cut on his scalp. The sting of salt water roused him back to consciousness, and the first words he uttered framed a ritual malediction that would have shaken a seasoned man-at-arms. Korendir continued his ministrations without twitching a muscle. He rinsed the blood from Haldeth’s hair, emptied the fouled pan over a tuft of smouldering grass, then returned and looped his belt securely around the smith’s neck. Haldeth’s
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