Sean Russell - The Shadow Roads

“Shoot back,” Alaan called, hardly able to spare the breath.

Tam stopped and took aim. He was shooting downhill, whichwas never easy. He might waste an arrow to find the range. He drew back thestring, finding the bow stiffer than his last. The arrow flew down the draw,the Fael bow every bit as good as its reputation.

The men at the bottom scattered as Tam’s arrow passed amongthem, but he thought no one was hit. He could see heads rising up above stonesand shrubs. That might slow them a little.

Tam turned and hurried to catch up with his companions.Cynddl had given his horse to Fynnol and came back to join Tam, bow in hand,his young-old face drawn tight with concern, gray hair plastered to hissweating brow.

“Shall we make a stand here for a while and let the othersreach the crest?” Tam wondered. He gazed down the draw, where there wasmovement among the stones.

“Alaan says to keep them back but not to fall behind.”Cynddl pulled back his arrow and let it fly, then quickly nocked another. “Alaan’sattention appears to be drawn up, in the direction we’re going, as though thethreat from below is not the real concern.”

Tam glanced at the story finder, then back down the draw. “That’snot what I wanted to hear.”

“Well, perhaps I’m wrong,” Cynddl said. “Let us hope so.”

The two scrambled up the draw, their eyes darting back andforth between the path and the men below. Tam tripped again and had to catchhimself with a hand. Nothing was broken but an arrow, and he quickly hadanother from his quiver.

The draw narrowed around them, gray-brown ramparts of stonejutting up to either side. The path was no longer straight, but curved andturned back and forth, as though cut by a meandering river. Horses and menbobbed up the path, the sound of shod hooves echoing off the walls.

Alaan stopped, and called down, “Tam? Cynddl? Can you stopthem at the bottom of the narrows for a time?” He took two deep breaths. “Holdthem back as best you can, but try to keep yourself out of sight, so they don’tknow if you’re there or not. The moment they think you’re gone, they’ll rush upthe slope.”

“Go on,” Tam called. “Leave these men to us.”

Tam and Cynddl hid themselves as best they could at the bottomof the narrow section, stepping out every minute or so to loose an arrow at thefigures below. Tam could see them running between boulders, hiding themselvesfor a moment, then dashing to the next place of safety. There was little chancethat they would be hit at this distance, but Tam and Cynddl were excellentarchers and kept their pursuers fearful, for they never missed by much.

Cynddl leaned out from behind the stone wall, gazing downthe draw. His whole manner was catlike, Tam thought, poised to pounce or run.The story finder dressed as he had when they traveled down the river-in Faelclothing, though the colors were mute-greens and browns.

He stepped out into the opening, sent an arrow hissing downthe draw, then jumped back behind the wall of stone.

“How long do you think we should stay here?” Tam wondered.

Cynddl glanced up the narrow path between towering stonewalls. “I don’t know. How long would it take them to reach the crest?”

Tam shrugged. He sent an arrow down the draw, narrowlymissing a man who dived behind a pile of stone. “We’ve almost reached ajuncture here. If these men get any closer, we’ll start hitting them.” Tamglanced up the cleft behind. “They’ll almost certainly try to rush us, or we’llpick them off one at a time.”

“Yes, that makes sense,” Cynddl said. “Once they’ve workedtheir way up to that little stand of pines, we should turn and run.”

Tam was surprised at how patient they were, considering thatthe men making their way up the draw certainly meant to kill them. When theyleft the Vale he would never have expected that, in a short while, he would beso composed under attack. But since leaving the Vale his life had been in dangermore times than he cared to count. Passing through the crucible had changedhim.

Crows, perched on narrow ledges above, began to caw and fluttertheir wings.

Fynnol appeared, running. “Come up now, as quick as you can.”He didn’t await an answer, but turned and dashed back up the way he’d come.

“Your cousin had a sword in hand,” Cynddl observed.

Tam nodded. Both he and the story finder stepped out intothe opening and fired at men leaping behind rocks and bushes. Without a word,they turned and sped up the draw. The slope was steep, and they were soongasping for breath, forcing themselves to go on. The walls of the cut snakedup, then suddenly opened. Tam glanced up and saw the others not far off, thecrest hovering just above them. They appeared to be waiting, though theirattention was focused upward, and all bore arms.

When Tam finally caught up with the others they barelyglanced his way, keeping their gazes on the crest. A massive man stood there,as large as Orlem, an enormous bow in his hands. Another, just as large, walkedup beside him, bearing a staff that looked like it had once been the trunk of asubstantial tree. The two near giants stared down on the smaller men below,their faces set and hard.

“My eyes are playing tricks?” Tam said, barely able togather his breath.

“No, they’re the Dubrell: Orlem’s people,” Alaan saidsoftly.

“There are more like Slighthand?”

“There is only one Slighthand, but this is the race fromwhich he sprang.”

“What do they want?” Cynddl asked. “We’re about to haveHafydd’s spies on our backs.”

“Yes, we’re caught between the hammer and the anvil. TheDubrell want us to go back, but we cannot. I’d hoped to cross their landsbefore they became aware of us. They don’t look kindly on outsiders.”

“That isn’t particularly comforting,” Fynnol whispered, rockingfrom one foot to the other, an arrow drawn and ready to shoot. “If we stayhere, we’re going to be fighting a company with more than double our number.Can you not speak with these giants?”

“They don’t speak with outsiders. They just drive them off.”

Fynnol kept glancing nervously down the draw. Around them asmall army of agitated crows cawed, their dark eyes glittering in the dulllight.

The giants above wore roughly woven cloaks of gray, and leggingsbound with leather thongs. Their hair and beards were earthy brown and long,faces turned to leather by wind and sun. There was so little expression inthose faces that Tam thought they looked like statues.

Crowheart pointed to the left. “Can we move the horses there,behind those rocks? Archers will kill them all in a moment if we don’t dosomething to protect them.”

Alaan continued to stare at the giants above. “Move themslowly. Don’t meet the eyes of the men above and do nothing they might take asthreatening.”

“If we can get into the cover of some rocks here,” Tam said,“we might drive Hafydd’s guards back. We have the advantage of our position.”

“Which was my plan,” Alaan said, “before the Dubrell appeared.If only we’d brought Orlem …”

The crows began a raucous chorus, bouncing up and down wherethey perched on rocks and stunted trees. At the narrowing of the draw, thebirds on ledges bent down and scolded something below.

“They’re coming,” Alaan said. “Everyone turn around slowly.”

The traveler nocked an arrow as he faced the men appearingdown the rise.

Alaan let fly at the first men erupting from the fissure inthe stone. He missed by a handbreadth, his arrow shattering on the stone. Themen dropped down but still came on. Some of them bore round shields, and theothers collected behind them. The angle of the ground made the shields doublyeffective, for they hid more of the man than they would on level ground. Tamand the others poured arrows down the draw, but these were less effective thanthey should have been. If they could have used their horses, they would soonhave been away, but the giants at their backs held them fast.