Crypt of the shadowking - Mark Anthony [54]
Suddenly a cry of rage shattered the air.
The assassin's hands were ripped from Caledan's neck. He watched in dulled amazement as Tyveris picked up the attacker bodily. The Tabaxi lifted the assassin above his head and hurled him through the air. Dark robes fluttered like strange wings. The assassin struck a boulder with a sickening thud, rolled to the ground, and then lay still.
"Caledan, are you all right?"
It was Mari, helping him to his feet, her face white with fear.
He nodded weakly. "I think so," he said. He swore to himself. After seeing Tembris in the free market they should have expected an ambush. Most likely the assassin had followed them out of the city. But why had Ravendas sent only one?
"Is he dead?" Caledan asked, climbing back onto Mista. The others remounted as well.
"I think so, Cale-" Tyveris halted. All three watched, stunned, as twenty paces away the black-robed assassin stirred and then slowly rose. Face lost in the deep shadows of the hood's cowl, the figure took a step toward Caledan. Then another, and another, each one faster than the last.
A hiss like a viper cut the air. An arrow abruptly appeared in the mysterious assassin's chest, stopping the figure dead in its tracks. 'That should finish the job," Mari said grimly, lowering her short bow.
But instead of falling, the assassin slowly reached down with a black-gloved hand, gripped the shaft of the arrow, and pulled it out, casting it aside as if it were a piece of straw.
Ten
"By all the bloodiest gods," Caledan whispered, a chill prickling the hairs on his neck.
Tyveris muttered a hasty prayer. Mari slung her bow over her shoulder. "Let's get out of here!"
The three whirled their mounts and cantered down the steep slope of the ridge toward the frothy river. The assassin pursued them with a strange, fluid swiftness, black robes billowing out behind.
The three pushed their mounts into a gallop, a perilous move on such a steep slope. The horses snorted, their nostrils flaring. The assassin-even though on foot-was gaining on them.
Caledan swore another oath. What kind of being did not feel the pain of an arrow's bite? Perhaps some fanatic of a dark god, caught in a religious frenzy. He had heard of such things but never expected to witness them firsthand.
Just as Caledan felt a gloved hand grope his heel, Mista plunged into the turbulent river. Muddy water swirled wildly about her flanks. The mare nearly lost her footing, then recovered. Spray slickened Caledan's face and the roar of the water deafened his ears. The other two struggled to keep their mounts upright to either side of him as the current carried them all downstream.
For a moment all thoughts of his strange attacker were forgotten. There was only the rushing of the river, angry and frigid with water from the spring snowmelt. Once Mista rolled onto her side, and icy water closed darkly over Caledan's head. His lungs began to burn. Then he was thrust back above the surface as Mista fought to stay upright, and air filled his lungs. The gray mare scrabbled up the slick stones of the opposite bank. Astride their own mounts, Mari and Tyveris followed.
Caledan leaned against Mista's neck, shivering and coughing up gritty water. The gray mare's flanks were heaving. The others were in a similar condition. He turned around, expecting to see the black-robed assassin fording the raging river, ready to close dark-gloved hands about his neck.
There was no one in sight.
The three galloped hard across the rolling terrain, letting the warm sun dry them as they rode. But the spring sunlight could not counteract the