Heirs of the Blade_ Shadows of the Apt_ Book Seven - Adiran Tchaikovsky [245]
Two more of the riders had chosen the same moment to attack, and the Wasps had made them rue it. Whilst the armour of a Dragonfly noble might scatter some of their stingshot, the horses were not so protected. Thalric and Mordrec brought them both down in short order, lashing the wretched animals with both hands until they reared and plunged and fell. One of the cavalrymen kicked himself free and flew, darting in the air to avoid Dal’s next shot, and putting as much distance between himself and the brigands as possible. The other fallen rider had just got to her feet, swaying but reaching for her sword, when Tynisa reached her and finished her with a single straight thrust.
The remaining two horsemen kept their distance, keeping out of arrowshot but no further. There was movement beyond them, which could only be the rest of the Salmae’s forces, or at least a fair proportion of them.
‘Keep moving!’ Dal shouted. ‘There’ll be more cavalry soon.’
Maure had Che perched before the saddle now, although the horse protested at its double load. She kept a steady pace, keeping the animal on a tight rein, well aware that if she outdistanced the bandits, the circling scouts were likely to drop on her.
A glance back confirmed that there were more riders splitting off from the main body of the Salmae force, some making straight for the fugitives, others peeling off to circle round and ahead of them, intending to cut them off.
‘There!’ Dal cried out, putting on an additional burst of speed. They were still slogging up the rise of the land, but now they could see woods ahead, and within the trees some suggestion of stone.
‘A castle?’ Thalric asked him.
‘Not quite. A tower, though. Should be enough of it left to defend.’
‘Defend? For how long?’ Thalric demanded.
Dal’s backwards look told him all he needed to know. The leader of brigands was running out of plans.
A half-mile on and the whole bloody business was played out again, even as they were running for the treeline along the hill’s crest. The faster outriders had caught up with them, perhaps only a dozen, but to stop and fight them would give more of Salme Elass’s people time to catch up. Again Tynisa dropped back, the two Wasps shadowing her automatically now.
‘Ride!’ she shouted, and Maure kicked at her stolen horse’s flanks, making a break for the trees. A couple of the scouts swooped on her, but Soul Je shot one from the air in a single fluid motion, and the other darted away.
On either side of Tynisa, the Wasps’ stings crackled sporadically, a sound that made some inner part of her twitch away, from long experience. How can they now be on my side? The first flashes were at extreme range, though Thalric still made his target rear up and shy away, almost unseating the rider. Then arrows came hissing past them, most of the riders choosing to stay out of sting reach. Their small horse-bows were still enough to outdistance Mordrec, and of course many of them would have had first-hand experience of the Wasp Art during the war. Tynisa backed up, remembering how, when the spirit of Tisamon had been with her, she had batted arrows from the air as though they were juggler’s balls.
Thalric sighted down his arm and sent off a sizzling bolt of fire that struck one of the archers clean from the saddle, his bow springing apart, the string charred through. That bought them a little more time as the other riders swung their mounts aside, circling for more distance. It seemed ridiculous that the three of them could stand off a dozen cavalry, but the reputation of the Wasp-kinden was ground deep into their foes. The man that Thalric had knocked down was clearly not getting up again.
Tynisa only distantly heard the cry of warning, but