Chapter Seventeen

We both looked through the gate once more. The street was still empty behind us.

“How long will it take to cross the mountains to this side of the City, if we are on the other?” I asked. He answered me slowly:

“Two days if we do not halt and keep a running pace.” I shook my head. I did not think we could spare that much time. Yet we were wasting it now. I looked away from everything, and pictured in my mind the course of the streets within Hethwenthor.

“We make swiftly across the City.” I looked at my companion while he sprang up and started to peer out into the street. I lingered at the gate for a moment. We both knew crossing the City was a risk, that the Marher was following us, and that we must cross in secret.

*****
“And if he is alive, you probably do not know where he is?” He questioned me mockingly again, as if he already knew my answer.

“No.” I answered him sternly.

“See,” he said, gesturing towards me and speaking to the other guard, “what use would Lord Dorwar find in her?”

“She could be lying.” He answered him flatly.

“Nay! There is no tremble in her voice! Lord Dowar would fine no use in her!”

“Yet does the enemy? Does she know something that she does not say? Lord Dowar has many uses for people.” There was a strange glint in his eyes, like the green light of a storm that is about to swallow you. My eyes caught his, and I felt like he was laughing at me under his gaze.

*****

“Then you intend to strike me down?” I looked up and again my gaze was wrapped up in the Marher’s. I felt my wound swelling and the pain burning in my flesh. I was answered only by the sword in full lamplight. I did not let my head drop again, but looked into his piercing eyes. My speech had averted him from striking me swiftly. Though my vision was ever darkening, I did not let go of his gaze. I felt Narher release me. He held in his hands his knife and let its cold blade touch the very edge of my shoulder. Though I tensed, I did not let out a gasp.

“If you do not kill him I will.” Narher’s voice sounded bitter. The Marher raised his blade of steel and swung it down. An arrow shot out with a thrilling twang.

Chapter Eighteen

We let go from the shelter of the brick walls and dashed with long strides. Making swiftly across the street, we did not halt in the shadow of the way we came. We kept speeding on, taking a different way which led away from Farenfenther. Our eyes were becoming immune to the Darkness, yet it still had a draw on our navigation of the streets; for Hethwenthor was a city of many streets which were winding and crossing, and there were walls, passages, and stairs. Since the Darkness came, only main streets had lampposts lit or lanterns swinging above doorways; so therefore light was scarce. For us it was an advantage as we wished to move secretly. Yet the great Clock was seen peeking like the moon behind clouds, and it bore a light inside it like the face of the moon. The Clock for us was like a guide of a compass.

Its face was towards the east, and its back towards the west. We ran towards the south, thus to the Clock’s right. It was a much longer route than heading north, and the mountain passes we were making too were in that direction; not in the south.

*****

“So you think I am dead prey?” I spoke, though they were not addressing me, even if their gazes were focused on me.

“Why not? You are trapped here with us.” answered the guard, walking nearer to my captor.

“You think I will abandon the use of my blade?”

“What use do you have for it?” He sneered.

“Do not think I have forgotten what swords were made to do.” I was stern in answering, but even in that moment I doubted myself. I clenched the hilt tighter. They both had their eyes on me.

*****

The arrow glanced off of the Marher’s hand. In another thrill an arrow flew again, striking Narher, directly after the former and missed its mark. A great cry, almost like a beast, came from the mouth of the horse as he reared. Two figures had leapt out from the towering wall behind me. I collapsed on the cobblestones as my captors fled.
More arrows flew as the strings sang.
I could see nothing, only the whirl of steel and the flames of lanterns, and the blur of the Marher’s bucking horse. Faintly still I could see the two attackers dash from the wall and swing out their swords. Silver cloaks they wore, and they shimmered in the light.

The horse let out another beastly roar. Deep and throaty, and it silenced out all another noise. The Marher cast off its hood.