“I do not trust men,” spat Kazuk. “I would sooner serve a troll than you.”
There was a scramble of activity as the goblin jumped away to avoid being spitted by the man’s sword. He came crashing through the bushes, straight into the elf girl.
“A spy!” shrieked Kazuk, drawing his knife and grappling with Éhal. “Grab her!”
Reflexively, she kicked him in the groin and fled as he crumpled in agony. Arrows began whizzing past her. She was almost safely back to her comrade’s position when her foot caught something and she fell headlong. She saw the faint outline of a boulder rushing to meet her. A bright light exploded in her head, and she knew no more.
She came to, vaguely surprised to find herself astride a horse. It was daytime. She became aware of strong arms holding her upright. She tried to protest, but found she was too weak even to speak. She must have moaned, for someone said, “She is awake.”
Baldric moved back down the line to ride beside her.
“Can she hear me?”
“I do not think so.” It was the voice of the one with the strong arms.
“Such a brave little fool,” said Baldric, shaking his head. “She is lucky to be alive. How long before she can tell us what she overheard?”