Moving Targets and Other Tales of Valdemar

“You know, I’ve heard stories about Heralds. This one ... “A boot impacted with his thigh without much force, making the point that Jors was there to be kicked. “... isn’t much.”

Seven.

“He tracked us over rock in the dark,” Adric snorted. “What more do you want?”

“He got caught.”

“Yeah, well, you can’t sneak for shit wearing all that white. Get the rope, Herin, and tie him. We’ll leave him here when we move out,” Adric added as the kicking man moved toward the piles of gear, “but we’ll kill the horse. Drive it off a cliff. Everyone knows who the damned things belong to, and we don’t need that kind of trouble.”

“If you don’t need trouble ...” Jors forced himself to look in control regardless of position or lances or crossbows. “... then you should pack up and go now. You don’t think I came out here alone, do you?” He added as Adric’s brows pulled in. “You don’t think Valdemar is going to ignore Hardorn violating the border, do you?”

“I’ll give him violating,” the man with the thigh injury snarled, reaching for Bardi.

“Leave her be!” Adric snapped. “I want to hear this. Go on.”

Jors met his gaze and held it. “We were already on our way out to deal with you. When you took the girl, you just hastened the inevitable. Lorne is in custody, all you can do now is run for the border.” He was giving them an out. If they thought they were cornered ...

“All I see is you,” Adric told him.

“I was out front, tracking. I’ve marked the trail for the Heralds following behind me.”

He could hear men shifting position nervously, but he kept his eyes on Adric’s face. He thought for a moment he’d done it; then Adric shook his head.

“I think you’re telling me a story.”

“He isn’t!” Bardi tried to stand but the wounded raider dragged her back to the ground. “We sent for the Heralds after you burned down Kirin’s barn!”

:Smart girl.:

:We will free her, Chosen.:

Adric stared at her for a long moment. “How many?”

“Heralds?” She rolled her eyes. “How should I know? I was with you when they arrived!”

:Brave girl.:

:We will free her.:

“Two lies,” Adric growled, “do not make a story true.” He turned, firelight painting orange streaks on his torso. “Herin, the rope!”

“Got it.” Herin straightened, coil of rope on one shoulder, started back and paused, head cocked toward the surrounding woods. “There’s something out there!”

“Animal.”

“Something big.”

“Big animal,” Adric scoffed. “Now get your thumb out of your ass and get that rope over ...”

The sound of a large animal moving through thick brush was unmistakable.

:No one could have followed that quickly from the village.:

:Verati says Tamis says to be ready.:

:What?: That was all the protest he had time for as Verati charged out from between the trees, screaming a challenge as she galloped through the camp. Gone was the stout old lady who fell asleep being brushed, replaced by a gleaming white dervish ridden by a rider in white whirling a sword above his head.

A man screamed on the side of the camp, going down under her hooves.

Eight.

Diving forward under the lance, Jors took the man who held it to the ground as Gervis answered Verati’s challenge. A crossbow bolt slammed into packed dirt. The distinctive crunch of shattering bone was nearly drowned out by another scream.

Verati charged back out of the trees, closer to the fire, sending the raider with the wounded thigh rolling away from her hooves. Bardi seemed to be dealing with the boy. Jors got his hands on the lance, drove the butt hard into the lancer’s stomach, and twisted just in time to block a blow from behind. Gervis reared. Herin dropped the rope and ran.

“Call them off!”

Jors looked down to see a lance point driven into his stomach, the edge sharp enough to cut through his leathers. Pain caught up a second later as blood began to dribble out of the tear. “Call them off,” Adric repeated. “Or I’ll gut you.”

“It’s too late,” Jors told him. On the other side of the fire, the boy threw himself up onto a horse and rode out into the darkness. Adric was now the last man standing. “You’ve lost.”

“No.”

“It’s over.”

“No!” His eyes were wild. His chest heaved. Blood seeped through the bandage on his shoulder. “Not possible! We were riding against farmers! Shepherds! Stupid villagers!” He spun on one heel, shifted his grip, drew back his arm, and hurled the lance directly at Bardi, silhouetted in front of the fire, snarling, “Her fault.”

Bardi and the lance in flight. Then a white blur. The lance took Verati in the throat. Blood sprayed. She slammed to her knees, Tamis flying over her head.

Jors took Adric down, quickly, efficiently, not even thinking of what he was doing. Gervis was already there when he slid to his knees by Verati’s side. The blood had already begun to puddle, it was pouring so fast from the wound.

:You cannot save her, Heartbrother.: