The Nomad - By Simon Hawke Page 0,31

a sweeping stroke with his sword, cleanly decapitating the marauder. The man he had disarmed turned to run for his weapon, but Valsavis seized him by the hair, jerked him back, and plunged his sword through his back and out his chest. As he shoved the corpse off his blade, he turned to see how Sorak was faring.

One marauder had already fallen, his blade shattered on Sorak’s sword. Galdra had made short work of him. The second, having seen what happened to the first two, backed away fearfully, reaching for his dagger. He drew it and hurled it at Sorak. Instinctively, Sorak ducked under and allowed the Guardian to the fore. The knife suddenly stopped in midair, frozen about a foot away from his chest.

The marauder gaped in astonishment, and then his amazement turned to horror as the knife slowly turned end over end and then shot toward him like an angry hornet. With a cry, he leapt aside, barely in time. As the knife passed him, he scrambled to his feet, only to see the blade describe an arc in the air and come back at him once again. Panic took him, and he broke, screaming as he turned to run. The blade plunged into his back before he took three steps, and he fell, sprawling, to the dirt. Valsavis had watched it all with great interest. As Valsavis went to retrieve his daggers and wipe them on the bodies of the slain marauders, Sorak ran to Ryana and helped her to her feet. She was weak from having had her circulation cut off by her bonds, but she stood, unsteadily, staring at him with joy and relief.

“Sorak!” she said. “I thought you were dead!”

“Only wounded,” he replied. “Forgive me. I never should have left you all alone.”

“It was my fault,” she said. “You warned me not to fall asleep…” She glanced at Valsavis, who stood by, gazing at them as he sheathed his daggers. “Who is that man?”

Sorak turned toward him. “A friend,” he said.

“Perhaps,” the Guardian cautioned him internally. “And then again, perhaps not.”

“His name is Valsavis,” Sorak said aloud. “He found me and tended to my wound. And now I am doubly indebted to him.”

“Then I am indebted to him also,” said Ryana. “Thank you, Valsavis. How may we repay you?”

Valsavis shrugged. “It was nothing,” he said. “Merely an amusing diversion on an otherwise dull and uneventful journey.”

Ryana frowned. “Amusing?” she said in a puzzled tone.

“One finds one’s amusement where one can,” Valsavis replied. “And replenishment of one’s supplies, as well. It seems that these marauders have not only provided us with fresh game and a warm fire, but also a string of kanks well laden with supplies. They will not only make the remainder of our journey easier, but will no doubt find ready purchasers in Salt View. All told, I would say that this has been a rather profitable venture.”

“I suppose one could look at it that way,” said Ryana, gazing at him strangely.

Valsavis shrugged. “How else should a mercenary look at it?”

“I do not know,” Ryana said. “But you fight very well, even for a mercenary.”

“I have had some experience.”

“No doubt,” she said. “You are bound for Salt View, then?”

“Where else is there to go in this forsaken wilderness?” Valsavis replied.

“Since we are bound for the same destination, then it makes sense for us to travel together,” Sorak said. “And when we reach Salt View, you will have the liberty of selling the goods of these marauders and keeping all the profits for yourself. It is, after all, the very least that we can do to repay you for your service.”

“I appreciate the offer,” said Valsavis, “however, keeping at least two of the kanks for yourselves would make your journey easier when you choose to leave Salt View. And Salt View is not the sort of place where one can get by without money. Allow me to propose a somewhat more equitable distribution. With your permission, I will undertake to dispose of the marauders’ goods when we reach Salt View. I have some experience in such things, and can negotiate the best price. Then we may distribute the profits equally, in thirds.”

“There is no need for that,” said Sorak. “Why not half to you and half to us? It will be more than sufficient for our needs.”

“Very well, agreed,” Valsavis said. Ryana shook her head. “Killing these men was necessary,” she said, “and they deserved it richly, but it still seems wrong for