The Wolf's Call - Anthony Ryan Page 0,157

slope in two companies, a narrow wedge at the fore. Vaelin was about to run to Derka, hoping to mount up in time to assail the charge from the flank, but halted as they drew nearer and he was able to discern the colour of their armour.

“Don’t!” he said, rushing to stand in front of the twins before they could unleash their fire. “These are friends.”

He pulled them aside as the first of the Red Scouts swept past. He recognised Corporal Wei and Tsai Lin amongst the vanguard, Sho Tsai, Alum and Nortah close behind. His brother grinned and lifted his sword in greeting as he rode past.

The leading contingent of Red Scouts met the pursuing Stahlhast head-on, riding down those on foot and disordering the ranks of the mounted warriors, cutting their already depleted and scalded force in two. As an ugly melee developed in the heart of the village, the following Scouts split into two wings, wheeling left and right to assail the Stahlhast with a flurry of crossbow bolts before driving home their charge.

“Did you miss me, Uncle?”

Ellese appeared beside him on foot, grunting out the last word as she loosed an arrow into the mass of thrashing riders. He might have rebuked her for recklessness if he hadn’t been certain the shaft would find its mark.

“We had companions,” he said. “Sherin . . .”

“Back there.” She jerked her head to the ridgetop. “Sehmon and Chien are watching over them. The stonemason led us to you. It’s been a hard ride, I must say.”

“Get these people clear of here,” he told her, climbing onto Derka’s back. He expected some argument, seeing her habitual keenness for combat. Instead, she gave a terse nod and began to usher the Gifted up the hill, hectoring them in her far from elegant Chu-Shin, which reflected many days spent in the company of soldiers.

“Run, lazy bastards! Run!”

The fighting was mostly over by the time Derka brought him into the midst of the melee. Perhaps twenty Stahlhast remained, fighting in three separate knots with a determined ferocity that told of an acceptance of imminent death. At least a dozen Scouts lay dead amongst the ruins, though Vaelin was relieved to see Alum and Nortah still fighting. Never a keen horseman, the Moreska had dismounted at some point, though it didn’t seem to have disadvantaged him greatly, judging by the slick of blood covering his spear. Vaelin felt a swell of pride as he watched Nortah deftly guide his horse clear of the path of a Stahlhast’s desperate charge, his sword delivering a precise and deadly cut to the neck as the warrior swept past.

Another Stahlhast, eyes wild and face blistered by fire, came staggering to hack at Vaelin with an iron mace. Unbidden, Derka reared and smashed the fellow’s skull with his forehooves before he had the chance to deliver the blow. Vaelin spurred the stallion on, searching for Babukir. Catching a flicker of shadow in the lower reaches of the village, Vaelin urged Derka to a faster gallop. They cleared the village quickly, but the loose footing forced Vaelin to rein the stallion to a halt. Babukir had no such qualms, Vaelin finding himself impressed with the man’s horsemanship as he drove his horse down the slope and into the valley below with barely a pause. Within seconds he was beyond hope of reaching, a lone figure galloping hard for the dubious safety of the marsh.

“What happened to your hair?”

Vaelin turned to find Nortah reining in close by, brows furrowed as he looked Vaelin over.

“My hair?” Vaelin asked.

“There was grey in it when you left us. Not a great deal, but it was there.” He squinted, coming close to tease at Vaelin’s hair with his sword point. “Now there isn’t.”

“Haven’t washed in days, that’s all.” Vaelin batted the sword away and met Nortah’s grin with one of his own. “It’s good to see you, brother.”

“That makes a welcome change.” Nortah inclined his head at Babukir’s fast-diminishing form. “Friend of yours?”

“One I expect I’ll see again.” Vaelin tugged on Derka’s reins and together they started back up the slope. “Assuming his brother doesn’t flay him to death.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The journey to Keshin-Kho required ten days of hard riding. The hills fringing the coastal mountains were sparsely populated, but more settlements began to appear when they veered to the south-east, the hills becoming verdant downs of rich grass interspersed with numerous plantations of rice and wheat. According to Tsai Lin, the region was known as

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