2: Servants of the Crossed Arrows Read Online Free Page B

John said his name and the man almost dropped his knife. “Don’t hurt yourself.”         
    “How do you know me?” Saimura asked.
    “I just know,” John answered. He certainly wasn’t going to tell the truth.
    “Are you a friend of the revolution?” Saimura lowered his knife.
    John could see that Saimura was so scared that he would believe almost anything, if it meant that he would live.
    “There are too many people who might overhear us.” John crept closer to him. “You have to be quiet and just trust me.”
    “Are you Sabir’s—”
    John cut him off with a small shake of his head.
    “Let me see your ankle.”
    Saimura watched in silence as John investigated his injury.
    The ankle was swollen and hot, but Saimura could rotate it and also flex his toes. John guessed it wasn’t broken, just badly sprained. Either way, Saimura wasn’t going to be able to move with any speed for a few days at least. John wrapped the ankle with strips of weasel hide that he cut from his pants.
    His pants were already a wreck anyway.
    “You’re going to have to hide here until night. After that you’ll be safe. Just keep south of the river,” John whispered to him.
    “They’ll see me here.”
    “No,” John assured him, “I’ll hide you. You just have to stay very still and very quiet, all right?”
    Saimura nodded.
    It wasn’t hard to do. Saimura was slim and already covered in leaves and mud. John dug out a hollow under a split tree where the fallen trunk and branches would mask Saimura’s shape. Once Saimura was settled in, John spread leaves over him.
    “Sleep if you can,” John told him. He didn’t dare say anything more. Pivan’s riders might find him at any moment. Both he and Saimura would end up dead if they were seen having a conversation.
    John walked back to where Alidas lay, pale against the dark ground. He was probably as young as Saimura. John checked his pulse again. It felt strong.
    When he glanced to where Saimura was hidden, he saw nothing but scattered leaves and dead black branches. He didn’t allow himself to look back again. He tried to just forget that Saimura was even there.
    The morning light grew stronger. It hurt John’s eyes after so many hours of wakefulness and dark. He heard the sound of hooves pounding against the soft ground and felt the vibrations as riders grew closer. Pivan was at the lead. John counted only seven other riders, then he noticed that several men rode together.
    Four animals lost, John thought, and at least three men wounded. He wondered if that would be considered a triumph or not. He supposed it depended on how many of the Fai’daum men survived. Not many from what he had seen.
    He felt sick.
    Pivan reined his mount to a stop and dismounted. In the morning light, John could see that the rashan’s coat and uniform weren’t black but deep green. He strode towards John, glaring, but as he caught sight of Alidas wrapped in John’s coat, his expression softened. He crouched down beside his young rider.
    Up close, in the morning light, John could see the deep lines that etched the edges of Pivan’s eyes and mouth. They lent some character to his soft features. John didn’t know whether he liked that   character.
    “What killed the tahldi?” Pivan asked.
    “A dog tore out its throat.” John was so tired that he had to speak slowly and take care to only use Basawar words, not English.
    “That was no dog,” Pivan said. “That was Ji Shir’korud, the demoness of the Fai’daum.” Pivan gave Alidas’ fallen mount a cursory once over. He seemed to observe the furrows of dirt where John had dug Alidas out from under the animal because he immediately glanced at John’s mud-encrusted hands. “Why didn’t she kill Alidas as well?”
    “I held her off.” John lifted Alidas’ rifle in explanation.
    Pivan nodded. “If you had left him to die, I would have hunted you to the ends of the shattered earth.”
    If he hadn’t been so tired John