Fistandantilus Reborn - Douglas Niles [75]
He could see the vague shapes of the huddled bandits crouching in the ditch, fading moonlight reflecting dully off exposed steel. The lad remembered Zack’s keen blade, the bandit’s willingness to wet that razor edge in the blood of seemingly anyone within reach, and he prayed that the unwitting traveler would suddenly turn around, would flee down that dark mountain road.
The next sounds he heard dashed all those hopes, even as they sent the bandits into consternation.
“Hi there! What are you doing in that muddy ditch? It’s a lot drier up here on the road.”
The eight men of Kelryn’s band lunged forward to form a ring around the diminutive traveler Danyal saw in their midst. The thugs growled like wild animals, though their presence didn’t seem to startle or worry the lone wanderer.
“Oh, were you waiting for me? That’s nice. Pleased to make your acquaintance-Emilo Haversack, at your service. And you are…?”
“A kender!” declared Zack in disgust, advancing on the unconcerned fellow.
“Why, yes. Haversack is a kender name, after all-one of the finest, oldest, and most honorable of all the kender clans, if I say so myself. And of course I do, because nobody else will.”
Somehow the kender had passed through the ring of bandits to make his final remarks before Kelryn, Foryth, and Danyal. Though they hadn’t emerged from the shelter of the concealing boulder, Danyal realized with vague surprise, the diminutive stranger had somehow wandered right up to them.
“Emilo Haversack, at your service,” he repeated, clasping Danyal’s bound hands and pumping enthusiastically.
“Hey-he got my purse!” shouted one of the bandits, a burly and sullen archer known as Bolt, as the group whirled toward the kender.
“What? Oh, this?” Emilo was holding a small leather sack, a pouch that jingled as he lifted it. “You must have dropped it. Here!”
The kender tossed the pouch back to Bolt, but as it sailed through the air, a stream of silvery coins tumbled out, bouncing and rolling across the road.
“My steel!” roared the bandit, dropping to his knees and trying to sweep together all the coins. Laughing uproariously, the other members of the band joined in the fun, snatching any of their compatriot’s coins that rolled out of his reach.
Danyal watched in amazement as Emilo took Foryth’s hands in a vigorous handshake, then bowed deeply to Kelryn Darewind.
“Anyone could see that you’re the esteemed leader of these bold fellows. I’m honored to make your acquaintance. Emilo Haversack, at-“
“I know,” Kelryn interjected drily. “At my service. But how, pray, can a kender offer service? And why should I accept it, if offered?”
Emilo chuckled good-naturedly. “Both very good questions, of course.
Actually, I wouldn’t think that you’d get many kender around here. But if there is anything I can do for you, well, I’d be glad to talk about it.”
“Stop that confounded midget!” shouted Bolt, who was still upset about his lost steel pieces. “I’ll take each missing coin out of his hide.”
“Well, really,” said Emilo in exasperation. “I’m the one who returned your purse. I don’t see why you should be taking such an attitude.”
It was then that Danyal noticed his bonds had miraculously fallen from his wrists. Remembering the enthusiastic handshake from the kender, he regarded Emilo Haversack with growing awe.
And concern. Unmollified, Bolt was advancing on the little fellow. The bandit’s short sword was raised, and he was clearly in no mood for fancy explanations.
“Hey! My purse is missing, too!” Zack’s roar of outrage checked Bolt’s menacing approach.
“Is this it?” Emilo was holding up another pouch full of coins. “You should really be a little more careful.” Again the purse flew through the air, and again, to cries of outrage and glee, valuable coinage tumbled to the road, bouncing into the ditches, rolling along the ruts.
Even Kelryn had paused, hand on his sword as he watched in amusement, Danyal noticed. The bandit lord advanced to stand close behind Emilo Haversack and finally put his hands on his hips to laugh aloud at the antics of his followers.
The lad