Avengard: The Fall of Senvia

Chapter 9 - Ambush

The snapping of a twig was one thing. The snapping of a twig by something that doesn't exist was quite another.

But it did exist. It moved, after all. I shifted my focus, and instead of trying to hear the thing itself, I listened for the parting of leaves and movement of underbrush.

Not one, but perhaps a dozen of them were approaching us, quieter than anything should have the right to be.

And then one of them slipped. They made no sound as they hit the ground, but a puff of dust told me exactly where they were. It was the twig snapping all over again, a fluke of the spell, and it had given them away.

The spell was broken enough to tell. They were people.

I thought about nudging Eskir, but the last thing I wanted was to send him into a panic. Even as Royal Guard, as we escorted Lyana through the more unpredictable areas of Durn and the dunes, ambushes were rare. I had so little practical experience in defending against them. I needed him to be predictable.

There were only two of us, and I had no expectations of Eskir in a fight.

Still, I needed him to see it coming. I crossed my fingers and reached over to nudge him, but he spoke before I made contact.

"Oh. We're about to die," he breathed from his resting place.

"We'll be fine," I said, now fingering Stoneguard on my finger. I shot him a look. How had he known?

I stopped focusing on my senses. They would only overwhelm and blind me in a fight, and I needed to be able to move around. I took my spear from the wagon, keeping my head down and placing it gently on the ground, hoping the ambushers had not seen it. I knelt back down beside Eskir, hoping my movement hadn't been seen. "We'll get out of this," I whispered.

There were three in the trees, likely archers with nocked bows, and at least four more behind me. As well, there was more movement on the road we had come from. Some of them had likely been following us.

Eskir's eyes remained closed as he spoke. "No, really. We're dead. We died five minutes ago when we rolled into this clearing. We've probably been dead for hours, we just didn't know about it."

"Hey, snap out of it," I whispered, elbowing the man. "Which one of us is the soldier?"

"Right now, here, today? Me."

I scoffed. He still hadn't pulled out the dagger I had given him when we set out, so I passed him a knife from my belt. It was plain and boring, just a basic patch knife for spellcrafting that had been left at the inn by a wandering sorcerer. She'd traded her fountain pen for a new one, covered in ornate engravings hailing the great hero Torin.

Eskir shoved at my arm as I tried to hand him the knife, so I pressed it against his clumsy, fumbling fingers until the handle pressed against his palm, then dragged him to his feet. His eyes were still only halfway open, as if he'd been sleeping deeply, but to his credit, he did take the knife, fumbling at it and gripping half the bare blade along with the handle.

I hoped he'd at least know which bit of it to hold.

"Take care of the horses," I said. "Don't let them run off." He didn't move, so I stared at him until he clued in.

"Oh," he said, "you mean like... take care of the horses."

The tone of his voice gave me a moment of alarm. "Don't kill them!" I exclaimed.

"Yeah, yeah, just... take care of them. Babysit."

"Yes," I growled. The ambushers were already moving, and they moved far too quickly. The spell broke entirely when the first of them began to sprint, and a man dressed in full steel plate armour came into view. He had a broad tower shield strapped loosely to his back, and wielded a double-edged battle axe with a head as large as the handle.