The Knave of Souls - Fantasy - Sequel to The Jack of Souls

Chapter 18

STEEL & FIRE

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Harric piled dead branches behind the boulder to make better cover, and dusted his hands off. "Did he unhorse a third one?" he said, looking up at Caris where she stood on a log beside the boulder and craned to see into the meadow.

She said nothing. A hand went to her mouth as if in surprise or fear. "Uh, oh."

"Uh oh? Don't say uh-oh," he said, climbing onto the log beside her.

The field had changed. Kogan was now bounding toward them through the grass, smother-coat waving and flapping as a handful of knights thundered after him and still more charged Willard.

"Uh-oh..." Harric whispered.

"Five knights!" Caris called up to Brolli. "Kogan's bringing them to us!"

"I am seeing," said the Kwendi.

Caris climbed to the top of the boulder and craned her neck toward the running priest. "He's going to make it," she said.

Harric remained at the foot of the boulder, where he could see the approaching priest through a gap in the grove. To his surprise, one of the pursuing knights discharged a spitfire at the priest. The wad soared just over Kogan's head, spattering him with sizzling resin and spraying across the grass near Geraladine, who viewed it with customary calm.

"Gods take them," he muttered. "A wildfire could set off the whole fire-cone ridge."

Kogan slowed and grabbed his gut as if pierced with an arrow. He bellowed like a stricken bull, then vomited a spout of beery yellow, followed by another, and another, as if each stride pumped it from his guts.

"Gods leave me, he is an idiot," said Caris.

"Yes, but he's our idiot. Our big strong idiot."

After a final spout, Kogan lumbered back to speed, but the horses gained precious ground.

Harric bit his lip as Kogan put on a burst of speed only twenty paces from the first trees. Twice that distance behind him, the lead knight spurred his mount, gleaming lance point stretching forward like the head of a viper.

#

Eyand's lance darted for Willard's neck, and Willard parried it high with his sword. His lance stub struck low in the center of Eyand's shield, jolting the nobleman backward and out of his saddle, but not before Eyand steered his stallion straight into Idgit as if he would trample over her.

Idgit's weary legs collapsed and the stallion barreled into Willard, hooves slamming chest armor and helm, and the stallion's massive shoulder knocked the wind from him. Willard spun back and over the saddle as Idgit screamed in terror.

A distant part of Willard recognized that Eyand had played on a weakness that Willard hadn't been aware of until that moment. In ten lifetimes no one dared check his mount because that mount was Molly, and Molly was bigger than even the biggest Phyros stallion. Eyand had correctly guessed that Willard would never see it coming.

Bollocks.

Willard tucked his limbs in and tried to roll when he hit the turf, but one boot caught briefly in its stirrup and that leg hit hard and skewed the landing. Dirt sprayed through the ear holes of his helm and the eye-slots went dark with mud. Gasping for breath, he got a knee under him and crawled to hands and knees. He raised his visor in time to see Idgit shoulder into him as she struggled to her feet, and though she nearly trampled him, he was able to grab her reins again and held fast until she got her hooves under her.