Daggerspell - Katharine Kerr [168]
“Stand!” Jill screamed. “Coward!”
Sunrise stretched low and tried to keep up, but he was sweating in acrid gouts of gray foam as the fresh black pulled inexorably ahead. In tears of rage, Jill pulled him to a jog. Corbyn was going to get away, and all because he was a cursed coward. Then the black reared up, pawing madly, and came down hard with an elven arrow in its throat. Corbyn rolled free barely in time and staggered up, groping for his sword. With a howl of laughter, Jill swung down and ran for him. Dimly she was aware of Calonderiel, riding to join her.
His sword in hand, his shield at the ready, Corbyn dropped to a fighting crouch. Under the sweaty dust, his face was dead white. With a shout, Jill thrust forward in a feint, then swung up. Barely in time, he caught the blow on his shield.
“Oh, I can fight, can’t I?” Jill said. “You’re going to die, Corbyn. How do you like dweomer-prophecies now?”
When he slashed at her, she parried easily, the faster by far, and stabbed in from the side. Blood welled up through the mail on his left arm. She pulled free and parried his clumsy answering strike. With the last of the strength in his left arm, he threw the shield at her head. Jill ducked easily and dodged in from the side. She feinted, dodged, feinted again until he had no choice but to turn and step back, again and again, until he was trapped between her and his dead horse. Shouting a war cry, he flung himself sideways and stumbled. Jill got an easy cut on his face. Blood welled on his cheeks.
“For Rhodry!” Jill thrust forward on his name.
She struck Corbyn full in the chest, and his mail shattered. The sword bit deep just below his breastbone. When she pulled it free, Corbyn fell forward onto his knees and looked up at her with bubbles of blood breaking on his lips. Then he folded over himself and died at her feet.
“Well played!” Calonderiel called.
The berserker fit still upon her, Jill swung around to see him dismounting. He was watching her warily, his violet cat eyes wide with a touch of fear, and he kept his distance.
“Jill, do you know me?”
“I do. You can come up.”
She turned back to the corpse and saw Corbyn’s shade. A pale bluish form, a naked body with Corbyn’s face, it hovered over the corpse while it stared at her, its lips working soundlessly, its eyes filled with bewildered terror. Jill screamed aloud.
“What’s wrong?” Calonderiel grabbed her arm.
“His shade. Can’t you see it?”
“What? There’s naught there.”
Corbyn watched her in an anguish of reproach and fear. From the way his, mouth moved, it seemed that he was trying to ask her something. Calonderiel threw his arms around her and hauled her bodily away.
“We’ve got to get to Aderyn.”
As suddenly as a blown candle, the berserker fit left her. Jill clung to him and sobbed in his arms.
The battle was over. Sword in hand, Rhodry rode back and forth across the field and shouted orders to his men. They began to dismount, some collecting the horses and leading them away, others looking for the wounded among the dead and dying. Peredyr and Edar fell in at Rhodry’s side.
“Have you seen Jill?” Rhodry yelled at them.
“I have,” Peredyr said. “Corbyn’s dead, sure enough. I saw that Calonderiel fellow taking Jill to the chirurgeons. She was weeping, but she could walk.”
“Oh, by the gods, she’s been hurt!” Rhodry felt tears rising in his throat. “And a fine man you must think me, letting a lass take a cut meant for me.”
“Hold your tongue!” Edar snapped. “You had no choice in the matter, none.”
“Here, lord cadvridoc,” Peredyr said. “Come look at Corbyn, and then see how shamed you feel