Good, good! I didn't even have to order the man to his death; he volunteered. "Well," I protested, "We want a scout out, to carry word when they come." As if we wouldn't know!
"I'll go," Raif said laconically, and leaned past me, touching Narayan's shoulder. He explained in a whisper—we were all whispering, although there was no reason for it—and Narayan nodded. "Good idea. Don't show yourself."
I held back laughter. As if that would matter!
The man swung down into the road. I heard his footsteps ring on the rock; heard them diminish, die in distance. Then—
A clamoring, bestial cry ripped the air; a cry that seemed to ring and echo up out of hell, a cry no human throat could compass—but I knew who had screamed. That settled the fat man. Narayan jerked around, his blond face whiter. "Raif!" The word was a prayer.
We half-scrambled, half-leaped into the road. Side by side, we ran down the road together.
The screaming of a bird warned me. I looked up—dodged quickly—over my head a huge scarlet falcon, wide-winged, wheeled and darted in at me. Narayan's yell cut the air and I ducked, flinging a fold of cloak over my head. I ripped a knife from my belt; slashed upward, ducking my head, keeping one arm before my eyes. The bird wavered away, hung in the air, watching me with live green eyes that shifted with my every movement. The falcon's trappings were green, bright against the scarlet wings.
I knew who had flown this bird.
The falcon wheeled, banking like a plane, and rushed in again. No egg had hatched these birds! I knew who had shaped these slapping pinions! Over one corner of my cloak I saw Narayan pull his pistol-like electrorod, and screamed warning. "Drop it—quick!" The birds could turn gunfire as easily as could Evarin himself, and if the falcon drew one drop of my blood, then I was lost forever, slave to whoever had flown the bird. I thrust upward with the knife, dodging between the bird's wings. Men leaped toward us, knives out and ready. The bird screamed wildly, flew upward a little ways, and hung watching us with those curiously intelligent eyes. Another falcon and another winged across the road, and a thin, uncanny screeing echoed in the icy air. I heard the jingle of little bells. Three birds, golden-trapped and green-trapped and harnessed in royal purple, swung above us; three pairs of unwinking jewel-eyes hung motionless in a row. Beyond them the darkening red sun made a line of blackening trees and silhouetted three figures, a horse, motionless against the background of red sky. Evarin—Idris—and Karamy, intent on the falcon-play, three traitors baiting the one who had escaped their hands.
The falcons poised—swept inward in massed attack. They darted between my knife and Narayan's. Behind me a bestial scream rang out and I knew one of the falcons, at least, had drawn blood—that one of the men behind us was not—ours! Turning and stumbling, the stricken man ran blindly through the clearing, down the road—halfway to those silhouetted figures he reeled, tripping across the body of a man who lay beneath his feet. Narayan gave a gasping, retching sound, and I whirled in time to see him jerk out his electrorod, spasmodically, and fire shot after wild shot at the stumbling figure that had been our man. "Fire—" he panted to me, "Don't let him—he wouldn't want to get to—them—"