The Shattered Land_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [94]
No, he thought. He kept still, his blades before him, listening for any sound of motion. Their enemies would be spread across the field. In the darkness, perhaps they thought that he’d been hit and had fallen to the ground. If they were using poison, they would wait for the venom to take full effect before closing in. Did you see Gerrion? Was he part of this?
No response. He heard the sound of shifting grass, but he thought it was a body falling to the ground, and the light suddenly faded.
Lakashtai?
Nothing.
So. Attacked by unknown enemies. Either Gerrion has betrayed us, or he’s just led us into a trap. Perhaps Pierce and Lei were the lucky ones.
He waited, listening.
Do they think we’re all dead? Could they have left?
No. It didn’t make sense. Surely anyone who would go to this effort would want to confirm the kill—or to strip the bodies. If Gerrion was involved, he knew Lakashtai had gold.
Then he heard it. The faintest whisper of wind in the grass—but there was no wind. Someone was moving toward him. Possibilities flashed through his mind. Riedran soldiers? More warforged? Psychotic kobolds? The stranger wasn’t carrying any sort of light, and the footsteps were almost silent. Daine carefully set his sword on the ground, shifting his dagger to his right hand. This needed to be close and quick. Once he would have drawn comfort from the Silver Flame. Now he cursed any god that might be listening.
The wind blew through the grass again. A dark figure emerged, a slender silhouette set against the night sky. There was the faint gleam of moonlight on long silver hair, on skin dappled in patterns of black and white. That was all he saw before he struck.
He swept her legs out from under her, and she tumbled to the ground. Daine felt a thrill of relief as he leaned down on her neck and placed the point of his dagger against her throat.
“Drop your weapons and don’t make a sound,” he whispered.
He was talking to empty air. It was like trying to hold water; one instant his arm was against her neck, the next he was staring down at the earth and she was standing beside him. Her features were still hidden in shadow, but she held a long knife in each hand.
Daine threw himself backwards, and the twin blades struck earth. He snatched his sword from the ground and rose to his feet, throwing himself into first guard position.
Three other people were spread around the clearing—and as dark as it was, Daine could see that Gerrion and Lakashtai were not among them.
Oh, this isn’t good.
He knocked the woman’s daggers out of line with a sweeping blow from his sword and slammed into her, throwing her back into the grass. Something whirred past his head and he ducked down into the weeds. So much for subtlety. As his opponent rose to her feet he slammed the pommels of both blades against the side of her head. She staggered for a moment, and he struck again, the metal balls making a sickening crunch against her unarmored flesh. She fell, dropping her blades, but he couldn’t stop now; he followed her down and struck again, smashing her head against the ground. Daine felt the faintest twinge of guilt, but he’d seen and done far worse in the past—if she was lucky, she’d live through the night.
He might not be so fortunate.
Sheathing his sword, Daine wrapped an arm around the woman’s chest and stood up. For all her speed, she had the build of a scrawny teenager, and in the heat of battle she seemed almost weightless. He backed toward the remains of the shattered plaza, bringing his dagger up to her neck.
The other three strangers had disappeared. Dropped down into the weeds, no doubt.
“I don’t want to hurt her,” Daine called out. “Show yourselves and we can talk this out. We didn’t mean to come here, and all I want to do is to leave with my companions.”
Nothing. The treeline was a wall of shadows, and there could easily be a hundred enemies hidden in that darkness.
“I don’t know who you are, and I don