Jeff Salyards - Scourge of the Betrayer

Lloi and Hewspear’s crossbows released on either side of me and I squeezed the long trigger of mine. As much as I wanted to see if my bolt struck true, I knew Hewspear was waiting for me, and so I dropped my crossbow and handed another to him as fast as I could. I heard his crossbow discharge as I picked my crossbow back up and started to fit the claws of the lever on the hempen cord. The lancers were very close now, nearly on top of us, and I saw Hewspear’s crossbow hit the ground as he stepped away to retrieve his spear. I was drawing the lever back when the lancers rode around the “wall of horse.” Cord in place, I moved the lever forward just enough to release the hooks, laid it flat on the stock, and set a new bolt into the groove.

When I looked up, I saw four lancers turning their horses around in our small thicket, spears held overhead as they navigated through the trees and sought targets. One of them rode towards a Brunesman and stabbed down. The Brunesman dodged to the other side of a tree and slashed wildly at the rider. The lancer picked up the clumsy blow on the edge of his shield as he spun his snorting horse around and stabbed again.

I didn’t wait to see what happened as Gurdinn rushed forward to aid his companion, looking instead for a closer target. There were a few trees between us, and I was loath to loose unless I had a clear shot and didn’t risk hitting a tree, or worse, one of my companions. I was about to move off towards them when I saw movement to my right, much closer. Lloi dodged behind a tree, armed with her curved sword, and a lancer circled after her. The spearhead struck the tree just above her head and chunks of bark flew free as the lancer continued to circle, stabbing again.

His back was to me, and I knew the opportunity would disappear if I hesitated, so I stepped around a tree to get a better shot, took quick aim, and loosed. The bolt missed wide, striking the inside of his shield just beyond his shoulder.

The lancer spun his horse around, saw me, and kicked his heels into his mount. I took a few steps back instinctively, wanting to flee, but I knew there was nowhere to run except down the hill, where I’d be ridden down immediately. I froze, watching in terror as the lancer rode me down, arm cocked back to drive the spear through me.

Then another spear slashed the lancer across the chest. It didn’t cleave the mail, but the lancer forgot about me and turned his horse to face the new threat. Hewspear thrust and the lancer deflected it with his shield, but Hewspear hooked the lugs of his spear behind the edge of the shield and pulled back hard, creating an opening for an instant.

Lloi was there then, darting forward and slashing at the rider’s exposed thigh. Her sword struck, but it was impossible to see if she wounded him, and then he bashed Lloi with the bottom of his shield, catching her in the shoulder and driving her back a few steps. The lancer’s horse reared up and struck Lloi in the chest with its front hooves-she dropped her sword as she flew into a tree. The lancer advanced and his horse snapped its jaws down, tearing a huge chunk of flesh off Lloi’s cheek, exposing the bone beneath.

She collapsed, screaming as she rolled in the leaves and dirt, one hand on her face, and Hewspear drove his spear into the small of the lancer’s back. The lancer tried to spin his horse around, but Hewspear spun with them, thrusting again, howling in pain or rage as he did.

The second thrust pierced the links of mail and the gambeson beneath, coming away bloody, and the lancer arched his back, dropping his spear. The third thrust took him out of the saddle and the horse continued to spin, spitting foam from its lips as it lashed its hooves out to smash the attacker. Hewspear dodged behind a tree and slashed at the animal, but with its rider in the dirt near Lloi, it turned and ran off through the trees.

I was still rooted to the spot as Hewspear fell on the lancer as he struggled to get back to his feet, striking him between the neck and shoulder with a vicious blow. The lancer fell back to the ground, unmoving. Hewspear drove his spear into his back again to be sure.

Lloi still flailed where she lay, although her movements were less spastic and furious. That finally broke my paralysis and I dropped my crossbow and rushed towards her, calling out her name. She struggled with renewed vigor as I took her in my arms, and I nearly vomited as I saw the flap of flesh hanging above her exposed cheekbone. Her eyes were unfocused and her screams had subsided to a small squeal, and whatever energy she’d rediscovered fled quickly as I held her tightly, saying her name again and again. Then I felt a shaky hand on my shoulder and looked up.

Hewspear ordered me to release her, telling me her ribs or sternum were damaged, and my embrace did more harm than good. I slowly lowered Lloi to the ground and Hewspear knelt next to her, his ear above her mouth.

He looked at me and said, “She lives yet. But her breath is labored. I fear for her lungs more than her face. She is… bad.”

I asked him what we needed to do to save her. Hewspear said nothing and I filled with despair. Then he moved over to the lancer’s body, withdrew a dagger and tore some strips off the dead man’s cloak, grunting with the effort. He handed me the strips of cloth. “Staunch the bleeding and bind her face as best you can. Pressure, but not too much. Do you have the stomach?”

I nodded, wondering if I really did, but if he saw the hesitation in my eyes, he said nothing. Hewspear rose, grunting with pain, and retrieved his spear from the grass. “Still fighting left. Once you’re done with Lloi, best grab that bolter and follow me. Not much use binding the wounded if we all get killed.”

Hewspear ran off towards the combat. I couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like fewer blows were being exchanged. I knelt next to Lloi, patted her hand stupidly, and lied, telling her everything would be fine as I looked at the ruins of her face. With quivering fingers, I tried to put the flap of flesh back where it should have been, lifted her head, and wrapped the makeshift bandages around her cheek and jaw, leaving space for her mouth and nose. The cloth was soaked in blood immediately. Her breath came haphazardly, like a babe that had exhausted itself in crying.

My clumsy attempt at medicine finished, I tried to think of some pretext for staying-perhaps I needed to check the crude bandaging again, or monitor her wheezy breathing, or… But Hewspear was right-if we didn’t drive off or defeat the lancers, we were all doomed.

I slid Lloi’s sword into my belt and grabbed the crossbow, spanned it as quickly as possible, fumbling horribly, the devil’s claw slipping a few times before I secured it. When the bolt was finally in place I picked up a quiver and ran off after Hewspear, eyes darting in all directions, expecting death to arrive from everywhere.

I heard shouting and saw movement between some trees-Gurdinn and another Brunesman were attempting to flank a lancer, his spear abandoned and replaced by a mace. He swung down at Gurdinn, horse stepping sideways, and Gurdinn turned the blow with his shield but didn’t have the chance to attack himself as the horse spun to face him. Clearly Gurdinn knew a horse could be just as dangerous as the rider.

I looked for Hewspear but didn’t see him. My first loyalty, such as it was, was to Braylar and his retinue, and I contemplated leaving the Brunesmen to their fight and seeking Hewspear out, but I also knew our best chance lay in unity, so I took a few steps closer and raised the crossbow, sighting down its length and hoping for a clear shot. The Brunesmen continued trying to position themselves on either side of the lancer, so the lancer himself made a very difficult target as he led his horse between trees to avoid being flanked.