It had flapped as the spear flew and made the noise. On the material was the figure of a bull’s head.
There was more flapping coming from March’s left.
March pulled Sam back as another spear with a flag hit the ground where Sam had been standing.
Then another flapping noise from behind. Now Sam pushed March out of the way and a spear landed at Sam’s feet.
They moved to the cliff. More spears were coming all the time. They were being forced up to the rock face.
“We have to go up. That’s what they want us to do.” March found a handhold in the cliff and began climbing. Sam followed. The handholds became harder to reach the higher March climbed. And he felt totally exposed. The boys might throw a spear into his back at any moment. His life was theirs to take if they wanted.
March cursed but continued on, his fingertips finally reaching the top of the cliff. His legs were shaking with the strain as he reached up, felt around, found a tiny hold, and, gripping it desperately, pulled himself up.
Standing ahead of him at the cliff top was a boy, no older than himself and as thin, though his bare arms were muscled and wiry. He wore a sleeveless leather jerkin with a red and black badge depicting a bull’s head sewn over the heart. And attached to his leather belt was a leather-covered bottle, a cut in the leather revealing a sliver of purple glow. Most impor-tantly the boy was holding a spear, which he now lowered so that its sharp tip was a finger’s width from March’s right eye.
“Silver eyes. Nice! Thought you Abasks were all dead or slaves.”
“You thought wrong, then.”
“Not the first time.” And the boy lowered his spear and held his hand out. “Here, let me help you.”
March ignored the hand, not trusting the boy at all, and pulled himself to standing.
“Lovely day for a bit of climbing. My name’s Rashford, by the way.”
“I’m March.” He turned and looked over the cliff, adding, “That’s Sam.”
Rashford peered over the edge too. “Seems that Sam’s struggling a bit.”
March wasn’t sure what to do. “You could help him.”
“You mean catch him if he falls?” Rashford smiled and stepped back, raising his spear to March’s chest again. “I’m not really the helping sort. What sort are you, March?”
“Generally pissed off. And really pissed off when people point spears at me.”
“I can see that.” Rashford pushed his spear toward March so that he had to step back to the edge of the cliff. “But I get pissed off too. Pissed off by people following us.” And he jabbed the spear at March, who wobbled on the cliff edge. “Spying on us.” He jabbed the spear again and March had to grab it to stop from falling.
“We’re not spying. We heard about an army of boys. Me and Sam want to join up.”
“An army of boys? Only boys? No lords? No men?”
“They’re strong, fast, good at throwing spears.” He waved down to the ground and saw that the spears had been picked up by many boys who stood below him. “Good at sneaking up on folks. Good at hiding their trail when they want to.”
“I like the sound of them already.” And Rashford moved back a little, giving March a bit more space. “But what is it you’re good at, March? What can you offer this army of boys? Are you strong? Fast? Good with a spear?”
March shrugged. “I’m good at pouring wine.”
Rashford laughed. “Not got much wine on me and I reckon if I did have, I could pour it myself.”
“I poured wine for Prince Thelonius. I’ve traveled in Calidor and Pitoria. I know about the purple demon smoke. I know it makes you stronger and faster. And I know it heals too. I’ve been healed myself by it. I’m betting that’s what’s in that bottle you’ve got there.”
Rashford raised his spear so the point was just in front of March’s right eye again. “You certainly know plenty, March. Maybe a bit too much for your own good. And I wouldn’t go bragging about Prince Thelonius. You’re in Brigant. Thelo-nius is the enemy, you know.”
“And I’m Abask. Everyone’s victim, everyone’s slave. But Abasks aren’t victims or slaves at heart—we’re fighters. I won’t be made a victim or slave to anyone anymore, but I will fight.”
Rashford smiled. “Now that’s what I call attitude. Course, if you want to join us, you’re going to have to prove yourself. We’re gonna have