The White Road - Lynn Flewelling [92]
Alec loosed an arrow but missed his mark. Their attacker disappeared back into the shifting veil of snow. Alec sent another arrow after him.
"You don't get us that easily," Alec taunted.
The strange sound began again. It swelled and the sudden pain behind Seregil's eyes felt like a hammer pounding on the inside of his skull.
This is magic! Illior only knew what kind, or how his traitorous body would react to it. All he knew was that if it didn't stop soon, blood would probably start running out of his ears.
Even through the pain, he somehow kept his grip on the struggling rhekaro and reached for his sword.
"Something's happening to Sebrahn!" Alec warned. "His eyes are black again!"
Seregil didn't have time to let go. Even through his thick clothing, he felt the sudden rush of power that flowed out from Sebrahn as he opened his mouth and sang. The power exploded around them, throwing Seregil to the ground.
Bilairy's Balls, I'm going to be sick ...
A man called out in odd, thickly accented Aurenfaie, "And you do not get us that easily, either, ya'shel."
Seregil exchanged a stunned look with Alec; how in Bilairy's name had anyone survived that?
"I guess we should have gone back to check on them that day," Seregil muttered. At least the magic had stopped. He grabbed a handful of snow and filled his mouth with it as he struggled up to his feet. Somehow he'd managed to keep a grasp on Sebrahn, if not his sword. Right now Sebrahn was the more important of the two.
"If your tayan'gil makes that noise again we will kill you all," the man called back to them.
Noise? Seregil thought. If that wasn't his killing song, then what in Bilairy's name was it? Something about the man's accent caught Seregil's attention again, but he couldn't put his finger on it.
The same voice called out, "Put down your weapons."
Alec drew his bow and let fly in that direction. It was made clear once again that their attackers could see somehow; an answering shaft narrowly missed his head.
Alec ducked, then yelled, "You're a poor archer, you cowardly bastard!"
"You would do well not to offend those who hold your lives in their hands, ya'shel."
"What Aurenfaie ambushes another, except ones without honor?" Seregil called back hoarsely. "What kind of man hides behind magic rather than face his enemy?" That was said tongue-in-cheek, of course. He attacked from cover any chance he got. But the taunt had the desired effect.
A rider came forward on a white horse, keeping his distance. Seregil recognized him by the wolf-face mask he wore under his fur-lined hood. "So you didn't die, that day."
There hadn't been time during their last meeting to get a good look at him. Seregil now saw that he sat tall in the saddle and held a long sword in his right hand, pointed at the ground for now.
The man ignored him, looking instead at Alec. "Yes, I can see that you are the one, Ireya's bastard child."
"What did you say?" Alec's voice was low and dangerous.
"Bilairy's Balls!" Seregil murmured, putting all the pieces together, including the archaic way the man spoke. "They're Hazadrielfaie."
Other riders appeared on their white mounts, surrounding them. Seregil counted only six, but he thought he saw more through the shifting snow. "What do you want with us?" he demanded. He couldn't see anyone's face; they all wore those masks with the slotted eyes, but each of a different animal or bird.
"Put your weapons down," Wolf Face ordered again.
"Why should we?" Alec retorted angrily. "You'll kill us either way."
The man said nothing, but two archers appeared beside him on foot. One wore the fox mask Seregil had seen last time, and the other was wearing a lynx mask. Both had arrows set to their bowstrings.
"Can I at least have your name, friend?" asked Seregil. "I always like to know who's trying to kill me."
Wolf Face turned his way. "I am not your friend. You are nothing to me. Neither is your Tirfaie companion. No man who