Alexey Pehov - Chasers of the Wind

I did not have time to reply. A burning summons exploded in my mind.

Help me!

The mental picture that Layen sent me showed me the glade where we’d hidden the money received for the assassination of the Walker. Without so much as a good-bye, I tore out of the home of the rather startled blacksmith and set off to help her. As I ran I kept trying to call out to her. To no avail. For the first time I could remember, Layen was silent. In light of what she had shown me, it was safe to assume the worst. I’d already cursed myself five times that I had allowed her to do this by herself.

The only weapon I had was a throwing axe. It was useful on a hunt, and perhaps even for assassination, but it would not work against a bunch of well-armed opponents.

I flew through the brush growing alongside the river and immediately saw what was happening in the glade. About twenty steps away from me a short lance was stuck in the ground. Next to it was the body of a man. There was another corpse not far from the forest edge. Layen was lying still on the opposite edge of the glade.

Three men were standing above her. They were laughing and joking, and apparently they were not at all concerned about the death of their comrades. One of them had just lowered his trousers.

A whirling sphere flew through the air and then my throwing axe hit the back of the would-be rapist’s head with a vile thud. He flapped his arms and, gushing blood, fell to the ground. I rushed out into the glade toward the two survivors.

One of them began to lift his crossbow, the second reached for his sword. This did not frighten me. I merely grinned and sped up. Just as the scum pressed the trigger I flipped. The crossbow bolt zipped by me without causing any harm. I landed on my hands, slowing down as I rolled over my head onto my back. I leaped to my feet near the spear. I grabbed it as I ran and I cast it at the swordsman. The spear caught him in the stomach, hurling him backward and pinning him to a tree. The bounty hunter screamed in pain and started grabbing at the bloodstained shaft with his hands.

My remaining adversary was clenching a bolt in his teeth and frantically trying to load his crossbow again. I didn’t give him the chance. I landed near him, fell to my knees, and ducked under the weapon when he tried to smash it into my head. Twisting my fist, I hit him hard in the hamstring. He shrieked, lost his balance, and fell.

I rolled away from him and ended up next to the corpse that had my axe sticking out of its head. I pulled out the weapon and rushed back over to my adversary, who was beginning to stand. I put all my strength into kicking him in the face, breaking his nose. And then I laid into him with two swift, strong strokes, breaking open his skull. By this time the one run through by the spear had stopped struggling and let out a final gasp.

It was all over.

I rushed over to my wife. I was relieved to see that she was alive—she was just unconscious. A large bump had formed on her left temple. The skin was badly cut and blood was dripping down her cheek.

Behind me a bowstring twanged loudly, a bolt whistled, a cry was heard. Bamut flew out of the underbrush with his discharged crossbow. Whip and the kid, whose name I hadn’t bothered to find out, appeared behind him.

“They found you quite quickly,” shouted Whip.

For all his friendliness he did not take his eyes off my utak (a Blazgian throwing axe) for a second. As for me, I cast my eyes to the side, without losing them from my sight, and saw the man that Bamut had taken down. One of these guys, hungry for easy money, had hidden himself during the fight. When I was distracted by Layen he decided to try his luck and take the prize. Well. He’d almost succeeded.

I’m losing my grip.

“Damn, what would you have done if we hadn’t shown up?”

“I’d have managed,” I replied sullenly.

By this time Bamut had dexterously reloaded his weapon and cocked it in the bend of his elbow. I didn’t like the way he was looking at me. It looked like he wanted to make some easy money himself, by the way he glanced quickly at his leader, searching for approval. Whip just gave a barely discernible shake of the head to the unvoiced question. Bamut smiled, shrugged his shoulders, and slung the weapon back over his shoulder. And then, no longer paying any attention to the rest of us, he began going through the pockets of the dead men.

The tension lessened slightly, but we were all trying not to make any sudden moves. As before, I stood between Layen and Mols’s people. I wasn’t persuaded of their peaceful intentions, not at all.

“What’s wrong with her?” Whip asked cautiously.

I didn’t answer; I just narrowed my eyes in suspicion. I had to figure out what this threesome had in mind.

“If we wanted you dead, you’d already be dead.”

I smirked disdainfully and remained silent.

“Layen needs help,” Whip insisted.

“How did you find us?”

“We followed you.”

“More like chased you,” the young one corrected his leader.

He was avidly studying the corpse pinned to the tree.

“You handled him really well.”

“So you decided to take on the role of bodyguards?” I asked, and after a slight hesitation I tucked the axe into my belt. “Is that really in your job description?”

“Well, it seems we changed it just in time. I don’t recognize their mugs.” Whip idly nudged one of the bodies with his toe. “They’re not ours. Stray birds. How’s Layen?”

“Alive.”

“Can I take a look at her?” asked the young man suddenly, and then he flinched at my savage glare. “She needs help now.”

“I can help her myself,” I snapped.

None of these men were going to come anywhere near my wife.

“I’m a healer.”

“Since when does the guild take on healers?”

“I’m not part of the guild. Whip can attest to that.”

Whip hesitated, but then he nodded. Was he lying or not?

Bamut had to ask, “Whip, what’s Shen talking about?”

Whip winced and changed the subject. “What about the stiffs?”

“Two of them have their faces burnt off,” replied Bamut. “I didn’t know that Layen could do that. You can’t tell who they are. Damn…. Is he really a little healer? Do you think Mols could send us off with an apothecary next time?” Bamut chuckled heartily, but no one else found his joke amusing.

“So can I take a look?” asked Shen.

“Okay,” I said, moving reluctantly to the side. “But you watch yourself…”

“Don’t threaten me!” he said, his eyes gleaming angrily.

I stood so that I could keep an eye on both the healer and Bamut at the same time.

Frightened screams came from the forest. Midge appeared. I’d been anxious about where that bastard was hiding himself. He was dragging Pork, who was balking and shrieking, by the scruff of the neck. What was he doing here?

Next to the tiny assassin the half-wit looked like a giant. But this didn’t bother Midge in the slightest.

“The stupid swine shat himself.”

“Where did you find him?”

“In the brush, of course. He was peeping. But perhaps he was with these lads. There’s seven horses not far from here. Should I kill him?”

When he heard these last words, Pork howled. Choking on his sobs and entreaties, he crawled toward Whip on his knees. All I could make out was “not my fault I thought naked auntie and then those wicked…” Then, “I’m no-o-o-othing! I he-e-erd co-o-ows! I’ll give you gingerbrea-ea-ead!”

“Calm down, friend. And keep your gingerbread. No one’s going to kill you.”

Layen groaned and I immediately forgot about the half-wit and rushed to her. I growled and Shen prudently moved aside.