Traitor's Moon

magic, he couldn’t stand waiting like some blind, wounded animal. Tearing off the hated blindfold, he blinked at the sudden brightness and saw—ferns.
    He could see perfectly well, after all, though the slight prickle of magic across his skin told him he was not clear of the guarded zone yet.
    Shouts from up the slope warned that there was no time to ponder the matter further. Raising his head a little, he found himself lying in a dense patch of tall, feathery fern at the base of an ancient birch tree. From here, he could make out the trail several hundred yards above him and a few men moving about there. Outlaws, he guessed, seeing that they wore no sen’gai. As he’d feared, a few others were making their way down in his general direction.
    His right shoulder throbbed again as he ducked down. Freshly scarred chain showed through a rent in the arm of his tunic where an arrow had scored a glancing blow.
    The wound in his leg was more serious. A shaft had pierced his thigh and lodged there. Sometime during his fall the feathered end had snapped off, but the steel head still protruded a scant few inches below his lower trouser lacing. Not giving himself time to think, he grasped the shaft just below the head and yanked it out.
    Then he fainted.
    When he came to, someone was dragging him over rough ground by his bad shoulder. The pain in his leg had risen to exquisite intensity and he greyed out again. When his mind cleared, he was lying mercifully still, cradled in strong arms against a hard chest.
    â€œSeregil, I thought—” But the eyes close above his were hazel green, not grey.
    â€œStay quiet,” Nyal ordered, peering up over the edge of the gully where they lay. He was bareheaded and wore dull-colored clothing that blended in with the evening shadows lengthening across the forest floor.
    Footsteps crunched over dead leaves nearby, then faded away in the opposite direction.
    After a moment Nyal crouched down beside him and checked the wound on Alec’s leg. “It’s clean, but it needs binding. Stay here and keep your eyes shut if you can.”
    â€œI can see,” Alec told him.
    The Ra’basi blinked in surprise, but there was no time forexplanations. Bent low, he hurried off down the gully, vanishing quickly in the shadowy underbrush.
    The ambushers seemed to have given up on finding him for the moment. Looking up the slope, Alec saw no sign of movement. A few moments later Nyal was back with his bow and a large wayfarer’s pouch.
    â€œIt’s not bleeding too badly,” he muttered, pulling out a flask and a plain sen’gai. “Here, have a pull on this,” he ordered, handing Alec the flask.
    The strong spirit burned Alec’s throat, and he took a second gulp, then craned his neck, nervously keeping watch while Nyal bound hasty compresses over the arrow holes.
    â€œThere, that should hold you for now.” Nyal clapped him on the shoulder. “Now, let’s see if you can walk on it. Seregil needs us.” Standing, he extended his hand.
    Alec grasped it and pulled himself up. His leg still hurt like hell, but the drink, together with the pressure of the bandage, made it just bearable. “Who tracked us, besides you?”
    â€œNo one but me,” the Ra’basi replied, supporting Alec with a hand under his arm. “No other tracks cross yours. They were waiting for you. I’m only sorry I didn’t catch up with you sooner. They were probably trying to kill your horse when your leg got in the way.”
    â€œAnd this?” Alec said doubtfully, showing him the tear in his tunic.
    â€œNot everyone is as good a shot as you, my friend.”
    Alec was sweating with pain by the time they reached the ground just below the level of the trail. Lying on their bellies, they peered up over the edge and found it deserted.
    â€œStay here,” Nyal whispered. Keeping low, he darted up over the edge of the bank, heading for Alec’s dead horse. A man sprang from a low clump of brush and rushed at the Ra’basi.
    â€œLook out!” Alec called.
    Nyal whirled and threw himself sideways, rolling clear. The other man dove at him again, only to catch a sharp blow to the face that felled him like an ox. He went down without a sound.
    Nyal tied and gagged the man, then coolly returned to his task, pulling Alec’s bow and quiver free of the saddle. The bowstring had snapped in the fall and swung uselessly from one