Haven: Book Seven of "The Liminality"

Chapter 21 - Marauders

With the clan under threat, Urszula slipped automatically into a tactical mode forged in the wars against Frelsi and Penult. First, she counted heads, evaluating the tactical problem before her. The heavily armed and well-armored band blocking their way numbered about twenty souls. A smaller band split off from the main group of marauders and was maneuvering to their rear in a wide arc.

She missed having her scepter. Its versatile spellcraft and ammunition stores had been limited only by her will to fight. She would need to make do with the limitations of the Walther and the little Sig Sauer.

Charlotte's clan was slightly larger but not everyone carried a weapon or had much clothing, never mind armor. They were lovers not fighters. They had arranged themselves in a loose circle with the armed members forming a protective arc around the others. Members of the clan went around to each other, exchanging kisses and hugs. Some wailed unconsolably. Others tried to comfort them. Urszula strained to understand their French.

"Now we say our goodbyes, just in case," said Charlotte. "Hopefully, they take two or three, let the rest of us go."

"Take?"

"They call it culling. These are cannibals. They see us as meat on the hoof. Sometimes there are massacres, when a clan resists too fiercely. We can't prevent what is coming. Not everyone in our clan is a fighter. We have lost some of our best."

"Fuck that shit," said Urszula, patting her pack, reassuring herself with the hard angular profiles of her weapons and ammo cases. "Let them eat rocks."

"There is nothing we can do. These are skilled hunters. They take few risks. They will keep their distance until nightfall and then they will pounce."

Urszula kept her eye on the smaller group circling behind them.

"Which group do you expect to attack us?"

"The main group, I would imagine," said Charlotte. "The others are there just to block our retreat."

"How long is it before nightfall? It seems pretty dim already."

"This is as bright as it ever gets here. But we have a few hours before it becomes truly dark."

Urszula strode out of the defensive circle, heading towards a point that would intersect the path of the satellite group of marauders.

"Where are you going?" said Charlotte.

"To fix your problem."

"Jacques! Mifuti! Accompany her!"

Urszula found herself flanked by a stocky man with a thick beard and a lanky black man. Each was armed with short spears and leather slings.

"Stay behind me once we get within fifty meters."

"What are you going to do?"

"I have a surprise for them."

"They have a bowman with them. Be careful," said Mifuti.

"What's his range?"

"With those shitty bows? Thirty meters. But watch out, they could get lucky."

Urszula kept advancing. The hunters had stopped circling around and milled about. Some looked confused. Some were laughing. Two bowmen stepped forward and knelt with arrows strung. The others just lounged in place, keeping their swords in their hilts. They were counting on the bowmen to do the killing.

An arrow came flying, whizzing high over Urszula's head. They certainly had plenty of range, if not accuracy.

The one called Jacques muttered something in French to Mifuti.