Douglas Niles - Fistanadantilus Reborn

"Well, really," said Emilo in exasperation. "I'm the one who returned your purse. I don't see why you should be taking such an attitude."

It was then that Danyal noticed his bonds had miraculously fallen from his wrists. Remembering the enthusiastic handshake from the kender, he regarded Emilo Haversack with growing awe.

And concern. Unmollified, Bolt was advancing on the little fellow. The bandit's short sword was raised, and he was clearly in no mood for fancy explanations.

"Hey! My purse is missing, too!" Zack's roar of outrage checked Bolt's menacing approach.

"Is this it?" Emilo was holding up another pouch full of coins. "You should really be a little more careful." Again the purse flew through the air, and again, to cries of outrage and glee, valuable coinage tumbled to the road, bouncing into the ditches, rolling along the ruts.

Even Kelryn had paused, hand on his sword as he watched in amusement, Danyal noticed. The bandit lord advanced to stand close behind Emilo Haversack and finally put his hands on his hips to laugh aloud at the antics of his followers.

The lad cast a glance at Foryth and saw the historian looking with amazement at the loose ropes dangling from his own wrists. Dan felt a flickering dawn of hope, but it was quickly dashed. Even free from their bonds, it didn't seem likely that the two of them could evade their captors for long before they would be run down and caught. And he didn't even want to think about the precautions the bandits might take if the pair showed an intention to escape, nor about the vengeance Zack might take if he should recapture his fugitives.

"Here, let me help with that," Emilo offered genially. He sauntered toward the men, who backed away, each unconsciously revealing the location of his valuables as he placed a hand at belt, side pouch, or, in one case, the top of his boot.

Ignoring their distress, the kender skipped through the group of suspicious bandits. "Here!" he cried, flipping a steel piece to Bolt. "And another!" This time the glittering coin tumbled past Zack's outstretched hand, bouncing onto the road, then rolling between Bolt's legs.

"That's mine!"

"Keep yer paws off it!"

Immediately the two bandits lunged, colliding heavily, then falling to the ground where they exchanged sharp punches. Rolling back and forth, spitting and swearing, the pair thrashed from one side of the road to the other. Steel flashed in the darkness, and Danyal saw that Zack had drawn his wicked knife.

"No blades!" Kelryn Darewind's voice cracked through the night, and the one-eyed bandit, cursing loudly, tossed his dagger aside and delivered his fist into Bolt's blunt nose.

"Hi again!"

Danyal whirled at the sudden voice, almost falling down as he saw that somehow Emilo Haversack had sauntered around the large boulder and now stood behind the youth and the historian, regarding them curiously.

"You stirred them up pretty good," Danyal noted, grimacing as Bolt bit down on Zack's wrist, drawing a howl of outrage from his writhing opponent.

"Yes," the kender agreed, nodding with a certain sense of justified pride. "I'd like to stay and watch, but don't you think we should be going?"

"Tsk-we're prisoners," Foryth Teel chided. "We're not allowed to-"

"We're not prisoners right now!" hissed Danyal urgently, seeing a design behind the kender's antics and hoping there was more to the plan than simply running as fast as they could into the night. "He's right. Let's go!"

"But-"

"Come on!" Danyal insisted, grabbing Foryth's hand and pulling. The historian reluctantly stumbled along, though he cast a glance at the bandits, almost as if he hoped Kelryn might see them and put a stop to this nonsense about escape.

For his own part, the lad felt certain their argument and departure would draw the attention of the bandits, but a quick look showed that Kelryn had joined the ring at the edge of the fight, which was building to a climax as Zack tore his bleeding hand from Bolt's mouth and tried to get a stranglehold around the burly man's neck.

"This way," Emilo said, leading them up the road. "I picked this spot on purpose."

The sounds of the fight receded in the distance as they sprinted into the night. Danyal was tense and fearful, expecting a shout of alarm at any moment, but if anything the intranecine duel raged with increasing intensity.

"Here." Emilo Haversack halted quickly, pointing to a niche between two rocks on the downhill side of the road. "Sit down, and you'll be safe."

"What? How?" demanded Danyal, who thought that the place offered precious little concealment, and even then barely enough for one person.

Any further objections, however, were overcome by a sound of real alarm down the roadway. Kelryn's voice barked through the chaos. "Find them. Bring them to me!"

"You go first! I'll follow!" whispered the kender, prodding Foryth toward the place he had indicated.

With a sigh, the historian stepped off the road-and immediately vanished from sight. Danyal heard an "oof" of alarm, but even that sound swiftly faded into the night.

"Now you go!" urged the kender. Hearing the sounds of running feet, the lad didn't hesitate. He stepped after Foryth and felt his foot lose purchase on the edge of a slippery, smooth-walled chute. Instantly he was on his back, skidding and sliding over a muddy surface with incredible speed. Only with the greatest of effort did he bite back the shout of alarm that threatened to explode from his mouth.

Instead, he tried to pay attention, to pick out the features of the hillside before him. A thin trickle of water drained down this smooth ravine, providing lubrication for a plummeting, headlong slide. Danyal had a fearful thought of Foryth coming to a halt below only to be smashed by the lad's uncontrolled plunge. Or what if this gully debouched into a waterfall and dumped them unceremoniously onto a waiting pile of jagged, unforgiving rocks?

But the slide seemed to continue smoothly for a very long way. Through the bouncing and scraping and the rushing of the wind, Dan gradually became aware of another body plunging along the gully behind him, and he guessed-and fervently hoped-that Emilo had accompanied them. He had to pray the Render wouldn't have recommended the route if he didn't have some hope of its success. Still, the lad was far from enjoying the slide as he skidded through a patch of mud, then felt a rough surface of rock scrape him painfully on the back.

And suddenly he was airborne, floating, falling, certain that he was doomed, yet even then some deep-seated instinct kept him from crying out.

He smacked into water that was icy cold and deep. The force of the impact knocked the breath from his lungs, but he was immediately stroking for the surface, kicking desperately until his face broke free and he could draw a deep lungful of air.

Another figure splashed into the water beside him, and only when Emilo popped to the surface, treading water easily, did Danyal hear the churning, choking sounds a short distance away. The two swimmers each grabbed one of Foryth's flailing arms and thrashed through the chilly pool until they could pull the historian onto a sandy bank. All three lay for several minutes, gasping for breath, slowly absorbing the awareness of their changed circumstances.

Danyal noticed heavy evergreens drooping overhead, and the lad felt certain they were concealed from the road on the mountainside so far above. He waded into the shallow water to look upward and saw the ridgeline, where the road was, silhouetted high against the night sky.

"My guess is that they'll figure we kept running and chase along that road for a long distance," Emilo explained. "The chute we came down is pretty much invisible at night, though if they're still up there at dawn, they won't have much trouble spotting our trail."