Ghostwalker - Erik Scott De Bie [81]
"Walker," Arya said, looking away. "Tell me something."
"Perhaps." The voice was cold.
"Will there ever be peace… for us?"
"Peace," Walker mused. "When the last one falls, will I find peace?"
Arya would not relent, though. "When this is finished-when I've found the missing couriers and you've killed enough men-did you mean what you said… about dying? Or…" She bit her lip. "Or can I see you again?"
Silence for a moment. Then she heard Walker's voice, and it was miraculously unbroken. "You would want that?" he asked, almost in a whisper.
Arya's heart cracked.
She whirled on Walker, about to continue, but an arrow whizzed past her ear and bloomed from his shoulder.
"No!" she gasped as Walker fell backward from the impact. "Gods, no!"
She threw herself down and snatched her sword from its scabbard. An arrow drove into her side, through the plate, and she screamed at the sudden flame that swept through her. Had she been unarmored, the shot would have been fatal.
"Arya… run…" Walker gasped against the pain. He reached down and grasped his sword. "They come… for me…"
She caught his hand and held it tight. He looked up, and the resolute fire they had known was in her eyes now. She stood and towered over his prostrate form.
"Let them come," said Arya, her voice cutting like a knife.
Half a dozen dark figures stalked out of the trees, steel glittering in their hands. Arya-sword and shield ready-rose alone to meet them.
CHAPTER 15
29 Tarsakh
Six rangers, two with drawn bows, stepped out of the forest. They wore the uniforms of Quaervarr watchmen but Arya was not fooled. The four in front pulled aside forest green cloaks to reveal drawn weapons. Their eyes shouted that she was hopelessly outnumbered and that she should surrender.
But Arya was one of the legendary Knights in Silver, and she knew nothing of surrender.
As she walked, Arya drew her sword up vertically before her, saluting them, and broke into a run, resembling a mounted knight charging with her lance ready.
So controlled and smooth was her run-despite the arrow standing out of her side-that the sword-wielding rangers hesitated as she came.
The bowmen, however, did not. They fired, one after the other.
Arya caught one arrow with her shield and the other jarred off her shoulder armor with enough force to make her flinch but not enough to slow her charge. She spun the blade back and over and slashed down at the first ranger-a wiry blond she mentally labeled Thin-Man-with an overhead chop, even as she brought her shield up to ward off the second, a cruel-looking veteran she decided to think of as One-Eye for his most dominant facial feature.
Recovering from the strike, Arya feinted at One-Eye and attacked Thin-Man with all of her strength. Both underestimated her speed. Thin-Man crossed sword and dagger to block the blow, but Arya had put all of her weight behind it. The resulting force crushed him down, but his parry held.
"Bane's boot!" he cursed.
Appropriately, Arya's boot slammed into his chest below the locked blades, knocking him to the ground. His parry came apart as he fell, and Arya spun, bashing him again with the shield before coming around to face the others, bringing her blade in line to parry a strike.
One-Eye was there, his twin short swords darting in for Arya's life. She swatted one away, but the other slipped under her guard and struck a glancing blow off her armored shoulder. Arya hissed a quick thanks to Torm that it was not her arrow-stung shoulder.
That reminded her, and she cast her eyes back to the archers. They had arrows nocked but held. Apparently, neither was thrilled at the prospect of firing into a melee.
The other two rangers with blades drawn charged, seeking to get at Arya's flanks, and the knight backpedaled smartly and bashed One-Eye back with her shield, keeping the rangers in front of her. One-the bulky ranger she had mentally dubbed Tough-Face-wielded a two-handed axe on her left and the other-a quick half-elf with