said Horgash.
Rorsh grunted wordlessly, sounding almost exactly like a large pig. He withdrew a cigar from his bandolier and lit it with a match struck across his chin.
“Brine’ll just have to keep truffling. Me, I smell bacon.”
The farrow’s sense of smell must be acute, since they hadn’t had bacon since yesterday. Then it occurred to Edrea that bacon might be terribly offensive to farrow.
Lynus apparently had that same thought.
“Oh, Morrow take me,” he said. “I’m so sorry. It’s . . . it’s just a thing we eat.”
Rorsh laughed. “A very tasty thing,” he said, running his tongue along his upper teeth and across his snout for emphasis.
Pendrake and Horgash laughed along with him, then. Edrea relaxed, and Lynus sat heavily on a camp stool.
“Breakfast is usually at dawn,” Pendrake said, “but since we’re all awake and the fire is hot again, I suppose we can have an early start on the very tasty bacon.”
Horgash and Lynus both groaned, simultaneously, and then looked at each other. Edrea stifled a laugh. She then remembered exactly how tired she was. Two hours of sleep was not going to be enough.
“Professor,” she said, “if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll take a nap while you breakfast.” She turned to Rorsh. “Well met, Rorsh.”
Pendrake began talking, his voice a comforting sound that Edrea had dozed off to numerous times during the winter of 602, when she’d attempted to audit eleven classes. But she would never tell Pendrake that. She fell asleep pondering the provisioning necessary for giant farrow.
Edrea snapped awake. The sky was still dark. The fire had died down a bit but still crackled. Everything else was silent. Nobody was talking.
She sat up. Everyone was looking to the east. The grizzled farrow’s ears twitched, and Edrea heard footfalls. Running hard, and coming fast. Pendrake drew his sword, and Horgash had both of his blades out and ready. Taking a cue from them, Edrea slipped out of her bedroll and grabbed her rifle.
“Rorsh, are you expecting someone? Because we are not,” Pendrake said.
“No.” The farrow gestured in the direction of the footfalls with his pistol. “But those are farrow feet.”
The footfalls grew heavier and closer, and Edrea heard hard breathing along with them. A young farrow burst into the firelight, chest heaving and tongue lolling, his shirtless, furry flanks glistening with sweat. He stopped just two steps into the camp and doubled over, struggling for breath. A spear and two arrows protruded from the thick, hairy ridge of his back.
“He’s injured!” Edrea said.
“Those are Tharn arrows,” said Lynus.
“Shhh,” said Pendrake.
Rorsh grunted at the newcomer in the farrow tongue.
The young farrow responded in squeals and grunts, punctuated with pained gasps.
Rorsh shook his head and grunted again, holding out a hand as if for coin.
The young farrow squealed weakly, tears in its eyes.
“ Shhhh ,” Pendrake said again, finger to his lips. “Something followed him.”
Edrea drew in a deep breath and wove for sight. She was still exhausted, but the runes spun to life about her wrist easily. The forest resolved into sharp, tin-grey detail. Amber silhouettes again outlined each of her companions, their mounts, the two farrow, and the huge farrow beast, Brine.
Five more silhouettes glowed deep in the woods, each the size of a bear, yet spiked like thistle blossoms. They moved as a group, like wolves, only far larger. The pack fanned out, flanking the camp.
“Spine rippers,” Edrea announced. “Five of them. They’ve got the bluff circled on three sides.”
“Morrow preserve us,” said Lynus, drawing his sword. Kinik picked up her polearm from where it leaned against a tree.
“Gonna lose a couple of horses,” said Rorsh. He drew deeply on his cigar and blew out a thick cloud of smoke. “Or Brine can guard ’em, and you only lose one.” Edrea heard the giant farrow stamp and snort down by
Rorsh grunted wordlessly, sounding almost exactly like a large pig. He withdrew a cigar from his bandolier and lit it with a match struck across his chin.
“Brine’ll just have to keep truffling. Me, I smell bacon.”
The farrow’s sense of smell must be acute, since they hadn’t had bacon since yesterday. Then it occurred to Edrea that bacon might be terribly offensive to farrow.
Lynus apparently had that same thought.
“Oh, Morrow take me,” he said. “I’m so sorry. It’s . . . it’s just a thing we eat.”
Rorsh laughed. “A very tasty thing,” he said, running his tongue along his upper teeth and across his snout for emphasis.
Pendrake and Horgash laughed along with him, then. Edrea relaxed, and Lynus sat heavily on a camp stool.
“Breakfast is usually at dawn,” Pendrake said, “but since we’re all awake and the fire is hot again, I suppose we can have an early start on the very tasty bacon.”
Horgash and Lynus both groaned, simultaneously, and then looked at each other. Edrea stifled a laugh. She then remembered exactly how tired she was. Two hours of sleep was not going to be enough.
“Professor,” she said, “if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll take a nap while you breakfast.” She turned to Rorsh. “Well met, Rorsh.”
Pendrake began talking, his voice a comforting sound that Edrea had dozed off to numerous times during the winter of 602, when she’d attempted to audit eleven classes. But she would never tell Pendrake that. She fell asleep pondering the provisioning necessary for giant farrow.
Edrea snapped awake. The sky was still dark. The fire had died down a bit but still crackled. Everything else was silent. Nobody was talking.
She sat up. Everyone was looking to the east. The grizzled farrow’s ears twitched, and Edrea heard footfalls. Running hard, and coming fast. Pendrake drew his sword, and Horgash had both of his blades out and ready. Taking a cue from them, Edrea slipped out of her bedroll and grabbed her rifle.
“Rorsh, are you expecting someone? Because we are not,” Pendrake said.
“No.” The farrow gestured in the direction of the footfalls with his pistol. “But those are farrow feet.”
The footfalls grew heavier and closer, and Edrea heard hard breathing along with them. A young farrow burst into the firelight, chest heaving and tongue lolling, his shirtless, furry flanks glistening with sweat. He stopped just two steps into the camp and doubled over, struggling for breath. A spear and two arrows protruded from the thick, hairy ridge of his back.
“He’s injured!” Edrea said.
“Those are Tharn arrows,” said Lynus.
“Shhh,” said Pendrake.
Rorsh grunted at the newcomer in the farrow tongue.
The young farrow responded in squeals and grunts, punctuated with pained gasps.
Rorsh shook his head and grunted again, holding out a hand as if for coin.
The young farrow squealed weakly, tears in its eyes.
“ Shhhh ,” Pendrake said again, finger to his lips. “Something followed him.”
Edrea drew in a deep breath and wove for sight. She was still exhausted, but the runes spun to life about her wrist easily. The forest resolved into sharp, tin-grey detail. Amber silhouettes again outlined each of her companions, their mounts, the two farrow, and the huge farrow beast, Brine.
Five more silhouettes glowed deep in the woods, each the size of a bear, yet spiked like thistle blossoms. They moved as a group, like wolves, only far larger. The pack fanned out, flanking the camp.
“Spine rippers,” Edrea announced. “Five of them. They’ve got the bluff circled on three sides.”
“Morrow preserve us,” said Lynus, drawing his sword. Kinik picked up her polearm from where it leaned against a tree.
“Gonna lose a couple of horses,” said Rorsh. He drew deeply on his cigar and blew out a thick cloud of smoke. “Or Brine can guard ’em, and you only lose one.” Edrea heard the giant farrow stamp and snort down by
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