Blades of the Banished - Robert Ryan Page 0,5

the bow, ignoring the blood that covered both of his hands as well as the side of his Raithlin cloak.

Quickly, he undid the elug’s quiver and hung it over his own shoulder. Then he moved, swiftly as he dared, back into the shadows and away from the camp.

It was not the silent kill that he had hoped for. He expected some of the others to come and investigate, but he heard and saw nothing. It seemed as though they had not noticed any noise, or had not realized its import.

While he waited he reached back and used his fingers to count the arrows in the quiver. There were thirteen left. Not many, but perhaps enough to make all the difference in the world.

He started to move around the camp again. In a while, he was where he had first come out, and began to look for the twisted and misshapen bush where he had seen the first elug.

The creature was no longer there. Lanrik paused in mid-step. He had not expected it to move, and in truth, he saw no reason for it, unless it had heard the killing of its companion but was slow to investigate. If so, what would it do?

Lanrik hesitated. He did not move, aware that death was in the dark all around him. What would he do in the other’s place? First, he would go to where the noise came from, but if he was suspicious, and he would be, he would not take the direct route. Instead, he would ease back to somewhere near where he was now, and circle around at a distance.

The hair stood up on the back of his neck. If so, the elug was near. Very near. He did not think it had made it further around toward the body, otherwise he would have encountered it already.

He was caught. If he moved to put down the bow, useless to him at close quarters, in order to draw his sword, the elug would see him. Assuming that he had not already done so.

He thought about that. If so, why had the elug not acted? He need not attack. A few shouts would bring at least some of his companions.

Lanrik considered the situation. It was torture to stand still and take no action, all the while aware that his enemy was somewhere close, but what he needed to do most was think.

If the elug took no action, it was because he did not know anybody was there. So far so good. That meant he was still investigating, making his way toward the noise of the first killing. If so, he would move again—

Just at that moment Lanrik heard a noise. It came from further out of the camp than he was, perhaps a dozen paces away. He slowly turned his head in that direction.

He saw nothing, but continued to watch, ever so slowly reaching up for an arrow from the quiver. He had drawn a shaft from the sheath but not nocked it when he finally saw the elug. It too was standing, and it stepped out slowly again in the direction that Lanrik had come from.

Movement, always the greatest risk in these circumstances, had given the creature away. It was undoubtedly on its way to investigate the previous noises, but must have heard or sensed him and paused. But not noticing anything further now thought it safe to continue. That was a mistake.

In a smooth motion Lanrik nocked the arrow, drew the bow and sent the shaft hurtling through the night.

There was a thud and muffled cry. The elug went down, an arrow fixed through its throat. It was a risky shot, for the neck was a difficult target in the dark even at close range, especially with a bow he was not familiar with, but a body shot would not have given him the instant kill that he needed.

Lanrik dropped to the ground and used the Raithlin crawl to get out of the area. He did not know if these new noises would draw more elugs. Nor did he know if he had given away his position when moving swiftly to fire the bow. Either way, he had to move to another point.

He still felt the blood on him from the first elug, and he did not like it. He did not like this killing in the dark, this sending of death through the air to an enemy who never saw it coming. Yet the elugs had attacked first, and