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remaining stars moved into throwing position. "Anyone else?"
The man he'd kicked was moaning. The two he'd cast at, both throws meant only
to wound, were clutching thigh and arm, where only the slimmest point of each
star protruded. One was cursing; the other, the mounted man, was trying to
pull the star out of his thigh.
The men at his rear had their crossbows cocked, however. He'd known this
wasn't a good idea, but he turned in his saddle: "I've got two of these left,
gentlemen. You want to play or you want to ride away? If I'd meant it, those
two would be dead. You'll get me, maybe, but you won't live long enough to
boast about it."
"Who in the god's name are you
?" one of the two mounted riders asked intently, face screwed up, peering
through his crossbow's peep sight, not yet decided.
"Someone who doesn't want to introduce himself to the wrong people," the other
mounted man hazarded.
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"That's right. Now get out of my way. Unless these friends of yours get those
stars out in the next few moments, the poison will kill them before they bleed
to death." There was no poison on the stars, but Niko wanted to be away.
The men backed off, muttering among themselves. Niko saw the one he'd kicked
make an effort to gain his knees, fall back. No casualties, then.
As he maneuvered his horses between the two who still held him at crossbow's
point, he could hear one exhort the other: they couldn't just let him go
.
The second was dismounting: "Then go with him, man. I'll stay with these. Wait
until Grille hears about this four men of first tier hire downed by a single
teenage delinquent. That is, if he'll allow you to accompany him."
The one still mounted gestured with his bow. "All right with you, fighter?
We'll just check your credentials, and then if you're bracketed halfway where
your skills should put you, we'll see the commanders. You really want hire,
you'll get it." "Good enough." Niko, taking a chance, sheathed his sword. The
bowman's slitted eyes were still on his stars as Niko carefully backed his
horses the rest of the way and the rider came abreast of him.
"I'm Ari," the mounted man, flipping the lever back to safety-lock his bow,
held out his right hand. His eyes, in the torchlight, weren't angry; his tone
held just a trace of laugher. "And this is or was my team. That's Haram,
there team leader of the sortie unit known as "
"Ari, don't tell him your life story. Find out his. Go on, before these three
forget their wounds enough to object and we've got to kill him."
"Life to you, then, leader. And everlasting glory," Niko called softly as he
kicked the bay into a
dispirited lope, still looking back at the man who'd lost a team on his
account. It wasn't a good beginning, he was certain.
"My ass to you," he thought he heard the man called Haram retort, but he could
not be sure over the sound of his own blowing horses and creaking gear and the
words of the fighter riding beside him: "Where'd you pick that up those things
you threw? The speed of it..."
"West."
"How many have you?"
"Enough."
"All poisoned?"
"None," Niko lied. On his left hip, six poison-tipped stars rode, undisturbed.
The other chuckled, then laughed aloud. "Left up here, at this fork. What kind
of hire did you want?"
"I can't say yet. I'll see what's offered." The left fork wasn't the quickest
way to the mercenaries'
hostel, which was southeast of town, but he went with his escort. The curfew
sounded real enough;
he didn't want to explain himself to airy Raakan garrison sergeant.
"I think there'll be something for you, when I tell 'em what I just saw back
there. Teach me that?
The 'stars," I mean?" "Gladly." They rode awhile in silence. Then Ari said:
"West? Machad? I never saw anything like that there. You speak Machadi."
"Not Machad."
"I don't mean to pry& Maybe we could use you in our own unit& we'll have a
vacancy or two temporarily, anyhow."
"Paired fighters, isn't it?"
"Some are. You?"
"Once. No more."
"Real communicative, aren't you?"
"I don't know you."
"You're going to need a friend, someone to speak for you you just put down
three men, any of whom makes more in a month than you've seen this whole
season."
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"Then they're overpaid."
Again, Ari laughed. "Have you a name, guildbrother? By the gods, I hope you're
at least that
. If you're not in good standing, dues paid up and all, we'll have to do
something about all this..."
"Stealth. And I'm up to date."
"Good enough, then, Stealth."
They rode on, west of town, never getting close enough for Niko to see more
than the brownish haze of lights and smoke that hovered over it. He recognized
the Outbridge quarter as their destination long before they rode among the
upscale estates and the vinehung inns. When they came to cobbled ways he asked
Ari to slow their pace, saving his horses' hooves.
They had been riding along a two-story masonry wall topped with
outward-curving spikes for a while when Ari gestured toward it: "This is it.
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