Runespeaker

Chapter Seven

As soon as his mind caught up with his eyes and Elevar realized what had just happened, he whispered to his runestone, careful to keep the fear out of his voice, and tossed it at one of the men to his right. The thief caught it, and the runespeaker smiled. "Nice catch."

The stone burst in the thief's hand, the force knocking him out of his saddle.

"Spellmaker," Brekulf said, his voice even harsher than usual, "run!"

Elevar spurred his horse forward, and Brekulf did the same. But, as the pirate started moving, the man in the middle of the road charged straight for him, swinging his ax as he did. The weapon's savage blade buried itself in Brekulf's chest, throwing him to the ground as it did.

Seeing his companion's fate, Elevar hesitated, pulling back harshly on Regga's reins. Was he really going to leave the man behind? Besides the fact that he couldn't proceed with his current plan without the pirate's help, he simply didn't like the idea of abandoning him. Had he not incurred some sort of obligation to Brekulf by bringing him into his mess?

His hesitation made the decision for him, as the thieves quickly surrounded him. Aside from the one who now lay on the ground, either dead or dying thanks to Brekulf, and the one who was currently nursing a shattered hand from Elevar's etriir stone, they all formed a triangle around him, weapons ready.

Three against one—Elevar didn't like his odds.

"Please," said the man with the ax, "just do as we say. I don't like killing frail men such as yourself. Feels unfair, somehow."

"Oh, I promise you, there's nothing unfair in killing me," said Elevar. "I'm more than a match for any man. Still, I suppose you do have me at a bit of a numerical disadvantage, so what do you want?"

"Climb off your horse. I'll take whatever's in your saddle bags, as well as those purses tied to your waist. And you'll stand by quietly while we take whatever's on your friend."

Elevar frowned. "You know, you'd kill me in the end if I resisted, but not until after I did some serious damage. Believe me, I may be frail, but my speakingstones are stronger than any warrior—and certainly any criminal—that I know. You'll find some books in my saddle bags. Let me keep those as well as the pouches on my belt—they don't contain any money, I promise—and I'll hand over all my coin without a fight. It's a good trade, trust me."

"Are you trying to barter with me, spellmaker?" The axman laughed. "I don't usually cut deals, but I also don't usually rob magicians, so I guess I'll call you a special case. Your belt and the pouches tied to it are mine, as is your money. You can keep the books. I have no use for them."

Any protest that may have been sitting on Elevar's tongue was held there by his common sense. He wasn't going to get the deal he wanted; he was lucky to be getting any deal at all. He nodded once and climbed off of Regga's back.

"Belt," the axman said. Elevar dutifully untied his belt and handed it over to the man nearest him, the speakingstones clattering lightly as the bags swung on the now free-hanging rope.

"The stones are useless to you," Elevar said, locking eyes with the axman. "They can only be woken by the runespeaker that carved them."

In answer, he only got a shrug.

"Jarn," said the axman. "Attend to the other one. See what he's got to give us."

Hands still bleeding profusely, Elevar's victim sauntered over to where Brekulf lay flat on his back, unconscious.

The rest of the thieves rummaged through Elevar's saddle bag, tossing his books carelessly on the ground as they did. The runespeaker scowled at their irreverence for the written word, but complaining was unlikely to be helpful. The axman, noticing his facial expression, laughed.

The whole affair lasted about five minutes, in which they stole everything Elevar owned except for his books and, in a surprising show of mercy, his horse. After taking his coin purse and his short sword, they patted the runespeaker down to make sure he wasn't hiding anything. After much pleading on Elevar's part, they decided that his chisel and his carving knife wouldn't sell for too much, so they let him keep them. Despite such magnanimous gestures, by the time they finally left, their victim was physically lighter.

As soon as he was free to do so, Elevar ran to Brekulf's side. A gaping, bloody wound had soaked his clothes in red. The runespeaker grabbed the fabric around the wound and pulled it apart, enlarging the hole left in the pirate's shirt by the ax blade and exposing Brekulf's chest. The flesh there was mangled horribly, with a deep gash between the man's ribs, which emitted a faint sucking sound. That sound meant that air was being pulled into his thoracic cavity. Elevar knew little of the healing arts, but he knew enough to realize that this was a bad sign. If too much air entered through the wound, the pressure inside his chest would get to be too much, damaging his internal organs.

Living flesh has powerful magical properties, allowing some spells to be performed by carving runes into a living organism, as in blood magic. With his knife, Elevar carved a binding rune—one of the few healing runes he knew—into Brekulf's chest, centering the mark on the wound. He whispered the rune's name—lanar—and the gash closed up, stopping the flow of air and silencing the worrisome sound. This wouldn't repair any of the damage the ax had done inside the pirate's body, but at least it would stop the external bleeding and prevent any more air from getting in.

Elevar tossed Brekulf onto Regga's back before climbing on himself. The city of Ril was only a short ride away. If Brekulf was to survive, they'd have to stop there before going on to Heraal. Of course, even with a stop in Ril, the pirate's odds weren't good.

Bringing Regga to a gallop, Elevar took off for Ril as fast as he could.