Nathaniel for his turn, and lay on top of my bedroll to get what sleep I can. As I sleep my hands rest on my weapons.
I wake before anyone else. Except for James, who was dutifully on the last watch. I rise and he draws his sword suddenly, but when he realizes that it is only me, he sheathes it. “We’re all jumpy,” he says quietly. “Something’s going to happen and we all know it.”
I only nod. “It’s good that we’re ready.”
That day we travel faster, probably out of nervousness. The only one who seems to be at ease is Aela.
There’s little conversation. We listen to our own footsteps, half expecting to hear others coming from behind. We pass a man driving an oxen-drawn cart. He gives us a friendly wave and I do my best to give him a smile and return the gesture. I’m not sure it comes out as friendly as I would have liked.
“Beautiful day!” he says.
“Great for travelling!” I agree sincerely. The sun shines, the sky is blue and clear, and the air is warm and comfortable. There’s something else going on inside each of us.
I take the first watch again, and we go without a fire.
I’m in the exact position I had been in the night before. A few hours pass. The trees’ boughs and needles crackle as they rub together in the dark night. During a particularly strong gust, the rustle is louder than normal. During that rustle there is a similar unnatural noise from behind me.
I stand my ground, sitting silent and unmoving on the floor of the forest. There’s a miniscule crackle from the left of my tree, and the knife leaves my hand.
He goes down with hardly a gargle. There are more, however. One of them starts and falls backward on a long stick with a loud snap. A dark smile starts to form on my lips as their movements get a little more frenzied. Still I am undiscovered.
Turning about, they make their way into the middle of our camp. I count; there are about nine of them.
With a horrific roar I jump from my hiding place and slam one of them into the ground, stab another with the spike, and then fling him into a third. Percival leaps up, drawing his sword and running one of them through the middle. Dark blood glints as it drips from his blade in the moonlight.
James wakes just in time to roll to the side and dodge one of their stabs. He retaliates into his attacker’s leg, and the man falls with a yell of pain.
I knock aside two more and watch as Nathaniel shoots a deadly arrow from his bow straight to the heart of his target. There stands only one more.
I disarm him with a quick twist, grab him by the collar, and slam him to the ground. “Who are you?!” I demand. “Who sent you?”
He shakes his head and says, “I’m not telling you that.”
I rest the spike on his sternum, letting the weight of the hammer drive the point into the bone. He groans. “Who sent you?” I seethe.
Again he shakes his head, but says nothing.
I begin to push on the spike. He emits a small cry of pain. To this reaction I respond, “You will die whether you tell me or not. Be aware that if you tell me, it will be painless and quick. If not…”
I lean my weight onto the hammer. Blood starts to ooze from the new wound and he spurts, “We are from Diagrall!”
I lift the weight, but leave the point there. “Doing what?”
“We’re here to kill you!”
“And a fine job you’ve done,” I say sarcastically. “Why here, why now?”
“What does it look like?” he chokes. “You’re alone on the road!”
“What does that make us?” James mutters.
“Our leader would do anything for your head!” continues the assassin. “We’ve spent more lives trying to get it than anyone thought! If only-”
Suddenly he chokes and writhes on the ground.
“If only what?” I demand.
He thrashes without answering me. Then with a gargle he suddenly lies still.
I remove my hammer from his chest and study him. Foam has begun trickling out of his unmoving mouth and his eyes have gone dormant. His black cloak remains unadulterated, apart from the splotch of blood where the spike of my hammer had been resting.
Finding nothing, I glance at Nathaniel who raises his hands, saying clearly, “It wasn’t me!” Aela sits on her bedroll with her dagger unsheathed, but her bow lies