the night, and although his mind was foggy, he thought the moon was coming out, because he could see clearly out past the trees.
“I think I can see him,” Kaz said in a voice filled with pain. He pointed out into the darkness. “He’s right there; he’s circling around the others. Can you hit him from here?” Kaz asked Garin.
“I can’t even see him,” he answered.
“Are you serious?” Kaz asked, shaking his head to clear the fogginess. “Okay, give me the bow.” Kaz grunted as he twisted his body on the large tree limb. Kaz clenched his jaw and drew his bow, aiming out into the darkness. With a final grunt, Kaz released the bowstring and the arrow flew through the trees and found its target. Kaz slumped down and would have fallen out of the tree if Garin hadn’t caught him.
“I got him,” Kaz whispered to his friend.
Hearing Kaz’s announcement, Farin called out to Bendar. “The alpha is dead!”
“Take out as many as you can,” Bendar called back. He fired an arrow down at a dram that was rummaging through their packs, then aimed at another that was pawing at his tree. The injured drams winced, then ran away.
“They’re retreating,” Bendar shouted, “The leader must be dead.” Bendar kept loosing arrows at any dram that remained in their camping area until his quiver was empty and the site was relatively quiet.
“I’ll be right back,” Farin said to his brother. Without waiting for a reply, Farin climbed down the tree, retrieved his sword from the fallen dram, grabbed a handful of arrows, then put on Kaz’s travel pack. He quickly returned to the tree and handed up the arrows, then climbed up to sit next to Garin and Kaz.
Garin began rummaging through Kaz’s pack and pulled out Gran’s sewing kit.
“I’m glad someone thought to include a suture kit,” he commented as he pulled out Kaz’s water skin and began to clean the cuts on Kaz’s leg.
Kaz cringed, “Yeah, good thing.”
“Get some rope,” Garin said to his brother.
“To tie on the bandages?”
“No to tie us up in this tree, I don’t feel safe on the ground, not with those drams roaming around.”
Without argument, Farin climbed down again and quickly gathered some supplies. He also retrieved some food and water. Bendar joined him in the campsite, and filled up his quiver and supply sack. He threw some more wood on the fire for light before they both climbed back up into the tree for the night.
Chapter 8
On the cobblestone streets of Kinstock horse hooves clopped and boots fell as people went about their business. Through the wall, P could hear each person as they approached the inn, and could distinguish the softer footfalls as they passed into the distance. Some people slowed down as they passed the rented out room in the inn, but most kept walking at a consistent pace. As she listened to the people in the streets of Kinstock she kept her eyes on the people in the room with her, not sure who she could trust.
She was the first to arrive, and from her seat in the far back corner she watched each man as he entered. The loudest of the men were eight strongarms, mostly large men who moved slowly, and many of whom opened their mouths enough to show that they were not overly bright.
When a heavy set of footsteps approached their room, she raised her hand up and nodded to the level two intellect sitting at the front of the room.
“Looks like our tardy friend has arrived,” Dunkan said as he stood up at the front of the room ready for their meeting to start.
As he spoke, a tall, broad strongarm named Scar pushed open the door and entered.
“Sorry I'm late,” he said slowly, his thick accent a sure mark that he had been born outside of Denall. “When Flick told me where we were meeting I forgot how to spell ‘inn’, so I was lost outside for a while.” He grabbed a drink from the small serving table at the side of the room, and stood, slowly drinking it as if he didn’t notice that everyone
“I think I can see him,” Kaz said in a voice filled with pain. He pointed out into the darkness. “He’s right there; he’s circling around the others. Can you hit him from here?” Kaz asked Garin.
“I can’t even see him,” he answered.
“Are you serious?” Kaz asked, shaking his head to clear the fogginess. “Okay, give me the bow.” Kaz grunted as he twisted his body on the large tree limb. Kaz clenched his jaw and drew his bow, aiming out into the darkness. With a final grunt, Kaz released the bowstring and the arrow flew through the trees and found its target. Kaz slumped down and would have fallen out of the tree if Garin hadn’t caught him.
“I got him,” Kaz whispered to his friend.
Hearing Kaz’s announcement, Farin called out to Bendar. “The alpha is dead!”
“Take out as many as you can,” Bendar called back. He fired an arrow down at a dram that was rummaging through their packs, then aimed at another that was pawing at his tree. The injured drams winced, then ran away.
“They’re retreating,” Bendar shouted, “The leader must be dead.” Bendar kept loosing arrows at any dram that remained in their camping area until his quiver was empty and the site was relatively quiet.
“I’ll be right back,” Farin said to his brother. Without waiting for a reply, Farin climbed down the tree, retrieved his sword from the fallen dram, grabbed a handful of arrows, then put on Kaz’s travel pack. He quickly returned to the tree and handed up the arrows, then climbed up to sit next to Garin and Kaz.
Garin began rummaging through Kaz’s pack and pulled out Gran’s sewing kit.
“I’m glad someone thought to include a suture kit,” he commented as he pulled out Kaz’s water skin and began to clean the cuts on Kaz’s leg.
Kaz cringed, “Yeah, good thing.”
“Get some rope,” Garin said to his brother.
“To tie on the bandages?”
“No to tie us up in this tree, I don’t feel safe on the ground, not with those drams roaming around.”
Without argument, Farin climbed down again and quickly gathered some supplies. He also retrieved some food and water. Bendar joined him in the campsite, and filled up his quiver and supply sack. He threw some more wood on the fire for light before they both climbed back up into the tree for the night.
Chapter 8
On the cobblestone streets of Kinstock horse hooves clopped and boots fell as people went about their business. Through the wall, P could hear each person as they approached the inn, and could distinguish the softer footfalls as they passed into the distance. Some people slowed down as they passed the rented out room in the inn, but most kept walking at a consistent pace. As she listened to the people in the streets of Kinstock she kept her eyes on the people in the room with her, not sure who she could trust.
She was the first to arrive, and from her seat in the far back corner she watched each man as he entered. The loudest of the men were eight strongarms, mostly large men who moved slowly, and many of whom opened their mouths enough to show that they were not overly bright.
When a heavy set of footsteps approached their room, she raised her hand up and nodded to the level two intellect sitting at the front of the room.
“Looks like our tardy friend has arrived,” Dunkan said as he stood up at the front of the room ready for their meeting to start.
As he spoke, a tall, broad strongarm named Scar pushed open the door and entered.
“Sorry I'm late,” he said slowly, his thick accent a sure mark that he had been born outside of Denall. “When Flick told me where we were meeting I forgot how to spell ‘inn’, so I was lost outside for a while.” He grabbed a drink from the small serving table at the side of the room, and stood, slowly drinking it as if he didn’t notice that everyone
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