Flight of the Night Hawks. Raymond E. Feist

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СКАЧАТЬ of any hint of warmth. He spoke Keshian with a Kingdom accent.

      He was a stocky man in dirty clothing, a mixture of buckskin pants, a once richly brocaded shirt, a heavy faded blue sash around his waist and a sleeveless overjacket of black leather. His hair was hidden under a red bandanna and two large golden earrings were visible. He wore a long sword at his right hip and a pair of daggers on the left. His boots were frayed and down at the heel. When he smiled, the boys could see his two upper front teeth were missing. ‘Late for travel, isn’t it?’

      Caleb’s voice was calm. ‘Just decided to push on a bit. There’s a clearing about a mile up the road that’s a nice campsite, near water.’

      ‘You’ve been over this road before?’

      Caleb nodded. ‘Many times. It’s why my employer hired me for this run. What can I do for you, stranger?’

      The man smiled, then said, ‘That’s the question, isn’t it? What can you do for me?’

      Caleb sighed, as if he had been through this before. ‘We’re travelling empty. My apprentices and me just ran some trade goods into Stardock, prepaid, so we’re not carrying any gold. I’ve got a purse with two silvers and a few coppers in it, and the rest is the clothes on my back.’

      Other men began to appear from the trees, and the leader of the bandits said, ‘Boy,’ pointing at Zane, ‘where’d you get your load?’

      ‘Yadom,’ Zane answered quietly as he watched four others, one armed with a crossbow, surround the wagon. ‘At Mijes and Zagon’s …’ he was about to say, ‘shop’, but realized Caleb hadn’t informed him just what sort of business that was, freight company, supplier, or merchant. He just let his words fall off as if he was frightened out of his wits, which he was.

      Tad’s hand closed on Zane’s wrist, and Zane understood what it meant: be ready to jump and run. Tad glanced slightly behind him, and Zane recognized the bandits had left the rear of the wagon unguarded.

      Caleb looked around and said, ‘Look, there are five of you and I’m not inclined to fight over this wagon. You know this rig isn’t worth much, so I’ll not risk these boys and myself to keep it. I’m getting paid when I get back and Mijes and Zagon can afford to buy a new one. So, how about I just get down and walk away?’

      ‘How do we know you’re not hiding gold on you?’ said the bandit leader, losing his smile. ‘Maybe you have it tucked in a belt or under your tunic?’

      Caleb stood, showing he was wearing only his tunic, trousers, boot and hat. His sword rested on the seat next to him. ‘No gold belt, no pouch. Only spare clothes in the chest. You can search the wagon, but let me and the boys go.’

      ‘There’s something about you I don’t like,’ said the bandit, pulling his sword. ‘You’re no more a teamster than I am. Mercenary, maybe. No one hires a mercenary to drive a wagon unless there’s something worth killing over.’ He saw the small chest tucked under the wagon’s seat. ‘Maybe you have something valuable in that chest, huh?’ He laughed and glanced first right, then left at his companions. ‘Besides, I have no doubt should the situation arrive that you’d be happy to describe us in great detail to the local constables. That would make it hard to spend our booty!’ He drew his sword with his left hand and said, ‘Kill them!’

      Caleb shouted, ‘Run!’ as he grabbed his sword, leaped to the right, putting the wagon between himself and three of the men, facing the two on his right first.

      Without hesitation, Tad and Zane were off as instructed, stumbling and barely keeping control of themselves as they hit the ground and ran downhill, dodging trees and rocks.

      Behind them came the sounds of struggle, and closer, the sounds of boots on the dirt as at least one of the bandits chased after them. Tad and Zane both possessed the reckless certainty of boys their age, that somehow they could navigate this rapidly darkening maze of trees and brush. Zane glanced backwards, almost losing his footing as he caught a glimpse of the man pursuing, and Tad stumbled.

      They both crashed through thick underbrush and then came to a long stone ledge supporting a game trail that ran along the side of the hill. They hurried down the trail for a dozen yards, the downward slope on their right, then found a depression from runoff heading downward. Remembering Caleb’s instructions on reaching the creek, they started down the hill again, hoping the trees hid them from view long enough to elude their pursuers.

      Tad grabbed Zane’s arm and pointed to his right. Zane didn’t hesitate and both boys ran down what appeared to be another slight wash, a depression in the ground between the boles carved by years of rainwater.

      The light was falling fast, but both boys knew they couldn’t successfully hide for at least another half-hour. They almost ran off a ledge and barely avoided a nasty fall by grabbing a tree trunk. Tad motioned and Zane followed as they hurried along the lip of a deeper wash that cut downward at an angle to the floor of the dell.

      The thick underbrush slowed the boys. They could hear the sound of pursuit growing louder behind them. Zane stopped at the base of a tree and glanced upwards. He fashioned a stirrup with his hands and motioned for Tad to climb. Tad stepped into his friend’s hands and was boosted up to a branch four feet above their heads. Zane glanced around and saw a fallen tree branch roughly the size of his forearm that would serve as a club, so he picked it up and tossed it up to Tad.

      Tad deftly caught it with one hand, then reached down with the other. Zane leapt, catching his friend’s outstretched forearm and clambered up to rest upon the heavy branch with him. Both boys tried to calm their breathing, for they were gasping for breath. The boys spread out, lying sideways head to head, so that their feet wouldn’t dangle down in plain sight.

      A moment later two men appeared, running quickly through the woods. They stopped directly below the two silent boys. ‘Damn!’ said the first bandit, a tall, rangy man with dirty blond hair that hung limply to his collar. ‘Where’d they go?’

      ‘Gone to ground, I’ll wager,’ said the other, a broad-shouldered man with a heavy black beard. ‘Bloody brush hides the tracks. You go that way,’ he pointed to a rough path along the edge of the rill that ran through the centre of the dell, ‘and I’ll work my way up. Let’s see if I can flush ‘em back to you.’

      They moved off and the boys waited. Tad put his finger to his lips. His caution turned out providential, as a few minutes later the tall blond bandit returned down the path. Zane quietly took the club from Tad’s hands and waited as the man hurried through the quickly darkening woodlands; he took no pains to hide his whereabouts. Muttering curses to himself, he was oblivious to the sudden movement above, as Zane twisted so his hips lay across the branch and swung down hard holding the wooden club in both hands. The man walked right into the blow, a loud, meaty crack that made Tad wince at the sound. It shattered the bandit’s nose and knocked him backwards as his feet went out from under him.

      The impact also had the effect of causing Zane to pitch forward and tumble to the ground on his back, knocking the air out of his lungs. Tad leapt down from the tree and knelt next to the groggy dark-haired boy. ‘You all right?’ whispered Tad.

      ‘I’ll live,’ he said, standing on wobbly legs. ‘How’s he doing?’

      Both boys turned their attentions to the fallen bandit. Kneeling next to him, Tad said, ‘I think you killed him.’

      The man’s face was awash with blood from a pulped nose and a gash across his forehead. Zane leaned down and touched the man’s chest. СКАЧАТЬ