Dag loosed another shaft, and was rewarded by a distant yelp. He had no idea what he’d hit or where, but it would be moving slower now. He paused to observe, and was satisfied when Saun’s next shaft also vanished into the black dark beyond the cabin and returned a meaty thunk they could hear all the way up here. All around in the woods, the patrol was igniting with excitement; his head would be as full of them as Mari’s was in a moment if they didn’t all get a grip on themselves.

The advantage of twenty paces was that it was a nice, short, snappy range to shoot from. The disadvantage was how little time it took your targets to run up on your position…

Dag cursed as three or four large shapes came crashing through the dark at them. He let his bow arm pivot down and yanked out his knife. Glancing right, he saw Saun pull his long sword, swing, and make the discovery that a blade length that gave great advantage from horseback was awkwardly constrained in a close-grown woods.

“You can’t lop heads here!” Dag yelled over his shoulder. “Go to thrusts!” He grunted as he folded in his bow-arm and shoved his left shoulder into the nearest attacker, knocking the man back down the hillside. He caught a blade that came out of seeming-nowhere on the brass of his hilt, and with a shuddering scrape closed in along it for a well-placed knee to a target groin. These men might have fancied themselves bandits, but they still fought like farmers.

Saun raised a leg and booted his blade free of a target; the man’s cry choked in his throat, and the withdrawing steel made an ugly sucking noise. Saun followed Dag at a run toward the bandit camp. Razi and Utau, to their right and left, paced them, closing in tight as they all descended, stooping like hawks.

In the clearing, Saun devolved to his favorite powerful swings again. Which worked spectacularly bloodily when they connected, and left him wide open when they didn’t. A target succeeded in ducking, then came up swinging a long-handled, iron-headed sledgehammer. The breaking-pumpkin sound when it hit Saun’s chest made Dag’s stomach heave. Dag leaped inside the target’s lethal radius, clutched him tightly around the back with his bow-arm, and brought his knife up hard. Wet horrors spilled over his hand, and he twisted the knife and shoved the target off it. Saun lay on his back, writhing, his face darkening.

“Utau! Cover us!” Dag yelled. Utau, gasping for breath, nodded and took up a protective stance, blade ready. Dag slid down to Saun’s side, snapped off his bow lock and dropped it, and raised Saun’s head to his lap, letting his right hand slide over the strike zone.