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. He set his free hand upon Domor s shoulder and squeezed. Our journey has been a good one, blood-of-my-blood.If I am to breathe my last, it isonly just that I do so at your side.158Tim MarquitzDomor busied himself with untying his wrist.Finished, he put his hand on thewarrior s and rose to his feet with his dagger in his other hand. If we re to die together,then let us do it in battle, my friend.Jerul embraced him, pulling Domor against him tight with his one powerful arm,nearly squeezing the air from his lungs. As warriors.Domor gasped for breath as his blood-companion let go.He nodded at Jerul, histongue thick inside his mouth.Jerul clapped him on the back and strode to the front ofthe raft as they came to within twenty feet of the Yviri rafts.Domor was glad the bigwarrior couldn t see him, squirreled away as he was behind him, his eyes brimmingwith tears.His cheeks warm, he wiped his eyes with a quick swipe and growled low in histhroat, raising his dagger before him.He would not give the bastards the satisfaction ofseeing his fear.Only his blood, an errant thought spoke inside his head.It sickened himto think so, the dagger trembling in his hand.Fortunately, he was given no more time to worry about his fate for it was upon him.At once, several hooks flew across the watery gap and crashed onto the deck of theirraft.The metal spikes at their tip scratched grooves in the wood floor and bit deep intothe wooden rails.Domor had thought Jerul might try to bat the hooks away, but hestood rigid at the front of the raft, moving only to keep one of the hooks from comingdown on top of him.The warriors ahead grinned in fierce welcome, though they kept their voices lockedinside, much to Domor s surprise.He had seen the Yvir at battle and knew it to be anoisy affair, voices raised in fury and bloodlust, colorful taunts filling the air as thicklyas martial commands.But these men were silent.He could see their emotions displayed clear upon their tattooed faces, the black linesof their veins emphasizing their morbid enjoyment, but they said absolutely nothing,not even to each other.They simply waited with their blades in their hands as theircompanions reeled the raft in closer.159Tim MarquitzStill outside the range of their swords, Jerul lashed out with his oar.Its flattened headcrashed into the closest of the Yviri warriors with a brutal thump.The man collapsed,but hung limp where he stood.As the other warriors slashed at Jerul s weapon, cutting away pieces of sliveredwood from it, Domor spied the coil of rope that encircled the gathered men.Wrappedtight about their waists, the warriors were tied together as were their rafts, keeping thefallen man from tumbling into the water.He danced like a marionette as the menaround him moved.The Yviri only smiled wider as Jerul lashed out again, the rafts bumping against oneanother as they were pulled together.Another Yviri felt the sting of the oar anddropped limp against his restraints, but sharpened blades sang out and cut chunks fromthe shaft of it.Only five feet from the other rafts, Jerul pulled the damaged oar awayand stepped back to use it one last time, swinging it in a wide arc, his voice shouting hiseffort.The oar crashed into a wall of swords and the head was hacked free, spinning awayinto the turbulent river.With no hesitation, Jerul pulled the shaft back and drove thesharpened point of it into the gut of the nearest enemy.Its splintered tip sunk deep intopale flesh that exploded with gushing blood.At this, the warrior cried out, clutching tothe shaft as one of his brethren cleaved it through, leaving Jerul with only four feet stillin his hands, the end tacky with blood.Another of the Yvir drew his blade across thescreaming warrior s throat, the man going silent as his life spewed crimson from hiswound.Jerul just laughed, throwing the broken oar shaft at the Yvir before collecting hisswords and resuming his place at the fore of the raft.Steel rang out as each side tooknon-committed swipes at the other, the distance between the two rafts just enough thatsomeone would have to lean out over the water to come within range to do any realharm.None were willing to do so, it appeared.160Tim MarquitzJerul clashed with the other Yviri for several minutes, neither side gaining anyadvantage, and Domor began to believe they might do so forever.A silvered blurdisabused him of that thought.Jerul cried out as a roped hook, flung from another of the rafts, sailed over theretaining wall and wrapped about his leg, the steel point sinking into the muscle of hiscalf.The man at the end of the rope tugged and Jerul tumbled, his leg pulled frombeneath him.He fell onto the deck with a grunt, the rope being yanked maliciously.Domor remembered the dagger in his hand and reached out to cut the rope free, butanother hurled grapple forced him back.He stumbled against the bench and nearly fellover it, dropping the dagger to grasp frantically at the wooden seat [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]