Book 2 - October's Baby by Glen Cook Read Free Book Online Page B

the Reaper. But a bowman could help.
    There must be a bow somewhere. His people all used them. He trotted over the litter of dead and wounded, and
     broken, abandoned, and lost weapons. He found a crossbow of the type El Murid's men preferred, but it was useless without a string. He had never gotten the hang of the things anyway. Then he found a short bow of the desert variety, a weak thing easily used from a horse's back, but that had suffered the ungentle caress of a horse's hoof. Finally, as he was about to snatch up a sword and go screaming up the barrow anyway, he found his hamstrung mare with his bow and arrows still slung behind her saddle.
    He went to work.
    This was the kind of fighting he preferred. Stand off and let them have it. He was good with a bow. Target plinking, he thought.
    His fourth victim went down. Yes, much better than getting up toe to toe and smelling your opponent's rotten breath and sweat and fear. And you didn't have to look them in the eyes when they realized they were going to die.
    For Ragnarson that was the worst part. Killing was damned discomfiting when he was nose to nose with the fact that he was ending a human life.
    His sixth score broke the siege. The survivors followed their comrades toward the forest. Trotting, Ragnarson lofted a few desultory shafts to keep them moving, at the same time shouted, "Let them go!" to Elana and Uthe. "They've had enough. Let's not get anybody killed after we've won."
    Elana sent a look toward the forest, then threw herself at her husband. "Am I glad to see you!"
    "What the hell do you think you're doing, woman? Out here without even a helmet. Why the hell aren't you at the house? I've a mind to... Damn! I will." He dropped to one knee, bent her across the other, reared back to smack her bottom. Then he noticed his men gathering. Grinning, those who had the strength left.
    "Well," he growled, "you know what to do. Pick up the mess." He rose, set a subdued Elana back on her feet. "Woman, you pull something like this again, I'll break your butt and not care who's watching."
    Then he hugged her so hard she squealed.
    As often happened in a wild mixup, there were fewer
     dead than seemed likely in the heat of action. But virtually all his people were wounded. The enemy had taken some of their injured with them. The worst hurt had been left behind. Bevold Lif, still dazed, stumbled up to report four of their people killed. The count on the enemy wasn't final. His men were still making corpses out of casualties.
    "Damn!" Elana said suddenly. "How's Rolf?"
    "Rolf who?"
    "Rolf Preshka. Didn't you see him? They were chasing him. He was bad hurt."
    "No. Preshka? What the hell? Where'd he come from? Bevold! Take over here. I'll be back in a little while." To Elana, "Let's catch a couple horses."
    Of those there was no shortage. The raiders had left most of theirs behind. The animals, once safe from the fighting, had begun cropping wheat sprouts. They would have to be rounded up or the damage they would do would cut into the plunder-profit from their capture. Good desert horses sold high.
    "Which way was he headed?"
    "Toward the house."
    "He didn't make it."
    "You think they caught him?"
    "Didn't see any of them on the way down. No telling what happened."
    They had ridden a mile when Elana said, "Over there." A riderless horse grazed beside the millstream.
    They found Preshka not far away. He was alive, but barely. The arrow had penetrated a lung. It would take a miracle to save him. Or perhaps Nepanthe, if they could get her down from Mocker's. She had studied medicine during her lonely youth, with the wizard Varthlokkur as tutor, and she had the magic of her family.
    "Here," Ragnarson said, "we'd better make a litter," He drew his sword and set to work on some sapplings left to shade the creak. "Might be good fishing this summer," he observed, spotting a lazy carp. "Maybe we can put some up for winter."
    Elana, slitting Preshka's jerkin so she could look at his