The Black Raven - Katharine Kerr [57]
Hooves sounded behind him—Rhodry spun round just in time to parry a sword slash as the fox rider charged him. The spearpoint slid off the sword blade as if by its own will. Rhodry snapped his wrists and swung the spear behind the fox-man’s futile slash. The blazing bronze point smacked the fox rider’s back—a glancing touch that should have done no harm, but the black armour shattered with a sizzle like burning fat. With a clumsy backhand swing Rhodry brought the spear back round as the fox-man struggled to turn his horse. Another clumsy strike with his spear—this time it glanced off his enemy’s black greave. Red fire shot out. The greave broke in half with a puff of black smoke and the stink of burning fur. The fox-man screamed in agony and spurred his horse hard. The horse leapt forward, and they galloped away, right past Rhodry and over the plain.
Rhodry howled in berserk laughter, so lost to the world that Raena nearly caught him. She’d got to her feet, and with a curse she lashed out with her whip. The tip seared down his back, but the pain only made him laugh the harder as he swung to face her. The black braid flashed down; he flung up the spear and twisted, caught the whip and pulled. The spearpoint burned through the leather and let her pull what little was left of the lash free.
“Lord Havoc!” she cried out. “Come back!”
She turned her head to look for the fleeing fox rider, just for an instant, but an instant was all Rhodry needed. He jumped forward and stabbed with a heft of the spear. The blade struck her flat between the breasts and flamed. With a scream of agony she dropped the whip and staggered back.
“So, you slut of a whoring bitch,” Rhodry said. “Who’s got who good and proper now?”
She flung her arms into the air and jumped, a gesture that caught him so much by surprise that he stared, paralysed. With a shriek that turned hoarse in mid-cry, an enormous raven flapped into the air and flew, circling round him once with one more cry of contempt. He stood openmouthed and watched as the bird flew away in the general direction of the fox rider.
“By the black hairy arse of the Lord of Hell!” Rhodry muttered.
On the ground lay the remains of her black whip. Rather than touch it without knowing what it might do to his hands, he slid the spearpoint under it, meaning to pick it up, but the handle bubbled like bitumen in a pit and melted into a puff of ill-smelling smoke. Raena wouldn’t be using that weapon again.
“That’s all very well,” Rhodry said aloud. “But how by all the ice in the hells do I get back home?”
When he looked up into the sky, he swore aloud. Unnaturally large birds were flying straight for him, a pair of them this time. Apparently Raena and her strange ally had come back for more. He let his knees bend and crouched, waiting, spear held in front of him, as they flew closer and closer. But they proved to be no ravens—he could recognize a red hawk. The other was some strange grey bird that reminded him of a linnet.
“There he is!” The linnet sang out with Dallandra’s voice. “Thank every god in the stars!”
Rhodry laughed and waved the spear in greeting. The linnet dipped her wing, then turned with a graceful flap and headed after the raven. The hawk slowed, circled, and dropped down. As it sank it changed, shimmering with blue light as feather smoothed into flesh. For a moment Rhodry saw Evandar hovering naked in midair, buoyed up by huge wings. With one last flap Evandar’s feet hit the ground; the wings disappeared into arms. Dressed in his usual elven tunic and trousers, Evandar stood before him.
“My apologies,” Evandar said. “We tried to find you before Raena did, but you seem to have dealt with her easily enough.”
“It was luck, mostly,” Rhodry said. “She didn’t have a battle-steady horse, and then this spear—it started