Heirs of Prophecy - Lisa Smedman [30]
Paltar paused, blinked, then slowly lowered his sword. At a gesture from Enik, one of the sellswords stepped forward, yanked the sword from his hand, and danced back out of reach. Two others grabbed Paltar's arms with rough hands, and a fourth held a dagger to his throat.
Dray, slower to react, was even easier to subdue.
"Not a noise-from either of you," Enik told them.
He gestured a second time, and six of his men turned and jogged back toward the wagons, a purposeful look in their eyes.
Larajin could only stare, dumbfounded by the realization that the events that were unfolding must have been carefully planned, long in advance. That same realization was slower in coming to Dray. He struggled in the grip of the two ruffians who held him, tearing his shirt.
"Klarsh! Do something!" Dray shouted. "They're thieves-stop them!"
Klarsh smiled. "I think not. I'd like to receive my share."
Enik guffawed and sucked on his tooth, considering the struggling Dray. "He'll fetch a good ransom." His eyes turned to Larajin and he said, "As will she. House Uskevren will pay handsomely for the return of its wayward daughter, I warrant, and we'll be safe in Hillsfar, with a war to prevent anyone from reaching us."
Still chuckling, he strode toward her.
Paltar, who had been quiet, began to struggle. He was rewarded with a stab in the throat. A rush of blood sprayed the face of the sellsword with the knife. Cursing, the man finished the job, slamming the hilt of his sword onto Paltar's head and knocking him down. The old soldier was dead before he hit the ground, the flow of blood from his neck no longer pulsing.
Dray sagged between the two men who held him, looking like he was about to faint.
Larajin backed cautiously away, knowing that she had to act. Quickly, she whispered a prayer. She was rewarded an instant later with the floral fragrance of Sune's Kisses. She thrust out a hand, palm-first, at Enik, and uttered the one-word command that would trigger her spell.
"Flee!"
Enik jerked to a halt, one foot dangling above the ground in mid-step. For a moment, his eyes widened in fear. He half-turned to flee-then shook his head, like a man awakening from a dream.
He drew his sword and danced back a step, shouting over his shoulder, "Watch it, lads, she's got spells. Klarsh! Do something."
With a sinking heart, Larajin realized her magic had not been powerful enough to subdue the brigand. Was his will really that strong-or had she done something to displease the goddesses?,
No time to wonder about that now. Klarsh had already begun muttering a spell. Determined to go down fighting, Larajin drew the magic dagger Tal had given her and assumed one of the fighting postures he'd taught her. Enik looked scornfully at her and laughed. As he started to speak, Larajin steeled herself, trying to close her mind to the magic she was certain was about to be unleashed upon her.
"Hey, now, missy," Enik said in a low voice. "Have you forgotten that old Enik's your pal? Why don't you give me that pretty little dagger before you hurt your-"
A hissing noise, like the switch of a whip through the air, cut off his words. Enik's expression changed, his eyes widening and his jaw dropping open. For a moment, Larajin thought something had gone wrong with his spell, then she realized that that other objects were whistling through the air all around her.
Arrows.
Enik looked stupidly down at the bloody barb of the arrow protruding from his chest, let his breath out in a bubbhng sigh, and collapsed to the ground. Behind him, the other sellswords cursed, drawing their swords and whirling to face the threat. The wizard hurriedly cast a spell, and disappeared with a soft pop.
Larajin saw slender shapes flitting through the woods and caught a glimpse of a tattooed face. Elves!
Whirling, she clutched her bag to her chest, uncertain which way to run. From behind her came the screams of men and the whinnies of startled horses. The caravan was also under attack. She could hear arrows burying themselves in