A Plague of Giants (Seven Kennings #1) - Kevin Hearne Page 0,79

he thought about it. “Wait for Thayil to erupt and move to Ghurana Nent as refugees, harass our northern border and draw our forces there, and then the rest of the Hearthfires strike massively in the south.”

“Or some variation on that theme, yes! Our strategists can run scenarios and plan countermeasures. But only if they know about it, right? So we have to go.”

“All right,” he said, all his anger gone as he nodded. “We will go and report together. But if we can risk the time and bring the fallen back to their roots,” he said, jerking his chin downhill, “it would not only be proper but galvanizing for the Canopy. You see that, yes?”

Fine. A compromise. He would argue away any time I thought we’d save—he already had. It was a terrible risk, but he was right about the effect it would have: Tip’s death would motivate the Blue Moths for sure. Since we were outside Forn and leadership consisted of we two, no silverbark except that which grew on our limbs, I extended my left arm, moss up, simulating the sway. “I see and agree. Accord?”

He paused, looking down with surprise at the offer to proceed as suggested. He was used to arguing for days before achieving anything in the sway. But perhaps, like me, he was realizing that we would no longer have the luxury of days to argue. He touched his right arm to mine. “Accord.”

“You get ben Lot, I’ll get my cousin, and Kam, will you get our clansman? Quickly.”

“I should help,” Pen said, her voice rough and filtered through a sob as she took in the body of her brother.

“No, we need your eyes and ears for approaching Hathrim,” I said. I dreaded every second of returning downhill, knowing that if any other houndsmen appeared, we’d be every bit as dead as Yar Tup Min and the others. Net launchers only had the single shot, and I had no arrows left.

I had plenty of tears for Yar, though, like Pen, and a forest of regrets that I hadn’t saved him. If I had said something to the Hathrim, would that have stopped them? Not sure what good it would have done unless they spoke Fornish. I didn’t speak their language.

Getting him on the horse was not all that difficult, but lashing him so that he wouldn’t fall off took more time than I thought we could afford. My horse snorted in outrage at the extra burden, but she wanted to leave the scene as much as I did, and soon enough we were clambering uphill again with no signs of obvious pursuit. Pak was able to recover only the top half of Tip because the dead man’s horse was still running uphill with his lower half bouncing in the saddle.

We spoke little on the trek back to Forn, our voices failing along with the light. The horses picked their way through the needles and rocks with little guidance from us, and it wasn’t until we were nearly at the pass again that we heard them coming.

It was a single bark in the darkness, followed by another, that alerted us that we were followed.

“Go!” I shouted. “Quickly as you can!” We spurred our horses onward, but they were already tired; their breath sprayed wetly out of their nostrils, and they managed only a labored trot, whereas Pen’s horse, not burdened down, leapt into a full gallop. Good. Perhaps she would make it if we did not. At first I felt like I might be able to run faster than the horses, but they soon realized what those barks behind us meant and sped up. After a few minutes of panicked flight, we crested onto the bare shale of the pass, and had we sufficient light to see it, the Canopy would have been there, welcoming us. Pen and the surviving clansman were far ahead, perhaps already safe; it was only Kam, ben Kor, and myself who lagged behind.

The barks were closer now, though; the houndsmen were gaining much too fast, and I doubted we would make it. But perhaps this close to the Canopy I could do something about slowing them down. Except I would have to dismount to do anything; the vegetation could hardly help me if I was floating above the earth on a horse’s back. The others didn’t even see me rein in and hop off my horse since I was the rear guard. Time to make that duty mean something.

Slapping