Page 70 of Silk & Sand
“There are many, Nusuru!”
It was true. Bands of thieves tended to number less than a dozen, but twice that were coming.
“Stay focused, Fahet.”
“Very focused!”
Raider exchanged a look with Fahet’s older brother, Tulef. Raider would not be the only one looking out for the boy today.
Under different circumstances, Raider might have shared some of Fahet’s excitement. He could enjoy a good fight, but only if no one was at risk but himself. Here, there were many at risk, people he cared about—and not just the Sudai.
Seth was a skilled fighter, well armed, well trained. But counting only combatants, the Sudai were outnumbered. Seth would put himself in danger. Raider knew it.
Fahet wasn’t the only one Raider would be keeping an eye on.
There was another problem as well: the haze on the horizon.
Sandstorms were unpredictable. This one might miss them entirely, sweeping east or west away from them, bringing only a refreshing breeze. Or it might rip straight through the caravan, scouring flesh, blinding unprotected eyes. It could last for seconds—or days.
But while that danger was uncertain, the danger of the approaching bandits was not.
With high vantage points in the hills—a risky place to hole up—they had likely been waiting for the caravan all morning. They were no doubt timing their attack with the approaching storm, hoping to strike and escape while the Sudai were busy protecting whatever remained of their people and goods.
The bandits came at full speed, shouting ferociously, curved swords flashing, their horses’ hooves pounding across the hard-packed earth. Their robes streamed behind them in streaks of purple, black, blue, and red. Teeth were bared in sun-worn faces. Some of the horses carried two—a sure sign that new mounts was one of the things they were after.
Arrows flew from both sides as the band came within range. Scimitar in hand, Raider pressed Umae out to meet the first pass. The bandits would try to sweep by, inflict brief damage, then turn to make another pass. The more Raider and the others could take down in the first sweep or two, the more quickly the band would abandon the tactic to fight hand to hand.
Raider spun Umae out of a spear’s path, then swung her around to meet the blue-robed rider he’d chosen as his first target. The bandit yelled like a demon, but all his focus was on his own ferocity. He was unprepared, therefore, for the way Raider ducked smoothly under his sweeping blade, slicing his own upward into the man’s exposed armpit.
The bandit screamed. Raider wheeled Umae to track the path of the man’s fall as he toppled from his horse. At Raider’s signal, Umae leaped into a canter on the man’s path. Nearing, Raider leaned to the side, letting Umae counterbalance him as he swept his scimitar across the bandit’s throat when the man tried to rise.
The galloping band had finished its first pass and was turning for a second. One of the Sudai was being dragged back into the center ring, but most looked able to keep fighting. Fahet’s grin was gone, replaced by a rare seriousness. Seth, his sword red with blood, was tracking the turn of the bandits and maneuvered his horse into their path.
On the second sweep, Raider moved Umae to block the horseman headed for Fahet. Seeing this, the approaching bandit veered to skirt the reach of Raider’s scimitar.
So Raider leaped.
He tackled the bandit from his horse, sending them both crashing onto the hard pack. They tumbled and grappled, the combat too close to wield their scimitars.
Quicksilver cascaded down Raider’s left arm with a hissing shhkkt, wrapping his fist with brutal, gleaming armor. He grabbed the bandit by the throat—and crushed his neck with the ruthless strength of quicksilver.
Raider tossed the body away and climbed to his feet.
Though a few of the attackers were wheeling for a third pass, most of the fight had concentrated around the caravan, the combat now hand to hand. Raider picked up a fallen spear and hurled it at the back of a purple-robed attacker. The man staggered into Tulef’s blade.
Raider scanned the scene for Seth. He found the Curator on foot, bleeding from a cut to his arm below the ridge of his black shoulder guard.
Seth swung his straight sword to block a bandit’s scimitar. He spun in close to the man, avoiding the long cutting surface of the curved blade, and rammed his sword’s pommel into his opponent’s gut. As the man’s body caved around the blow, Seth’s free hand whipped a knife across the bandit’s throat.
It halted Raider, watching that. Seth was beautiful in combat, incredible in motion: skilled, strong, focused. He was also, apparently, widely aware of his surroundings. As soon as his opponent fell, he spun, whipping his chakram from his belt. He hurled it—in Raider’s direction.
Raider spun as the ring-like weapon flew past him, slicing the throat of a bandit who’d been running toward his unguarded back, scimitar raised. As blood sprayed from the opened throat and the man fell, the chakram made a wide circuit, spinning back to Seth. Seth caught the weapon in a gloved fist and returned it to his belt.
Impressed, Raider shot Seth a grin, which made Seth scowl. Yes, fine, Raider had missed that one.
Raider got busy again, spinning to meet another blade. His new opponent was bigger and more skilled than some of the others. He kept a wary eye on Raider’s quicksilver arm, focusing his blows to Raider’s unarmored right.
Raider deflected several blows from his opponent, hunting for an opening. He found one at the bandit’s knee. Raider’s slice across the man’s patella sent him stumbling back, exposing his throat long enough for Raider to whip his scimitar across it.