Page 115 of Swordheart
“Amateurs,” muttered Sarkis.
Halla gasped. “Oh gods, there’s an arrow sticking out of you!”
“So there is.”
“Does… does that hurt?”
“It does not feel great, no,” Sarkis said.
“Should I pull it out?”
“Please don’t.”
“What should I do?”
“You should keep your head down.”
Another arrow slammed into the side of the wagon. Someone was definitely feeling hostile.
“How do we get the arrow out?!”
“It’s not in my lungs,” said Sarkis calmly. “So at the moment, we don’t worry about it.”
“I am worrying!”
“All you have to do is sheathe the sword,” said Sarkis. “The arrow will fall out then. It will be fine.”
Halla grabbed for the hilt of the sword over her shoulder.
“Stand and deliver!” someone shouted from the trees.
“We can’t stand!” Halla shouted back. “You’re shooting at us! If you’d stop shooting, it’d be different!”
Sarkis rubbed his face. This was not the thing to shout at highwaymen. It was hard to read Brindle’s expression, but he thought the gnole was staring at Halla with disbelief.
“I am a servant of the White Rat!” Zale called. “My Temple has negotiated for safe passage through this region.”
An oath came from the trees. The man in the road, who had been waving his arms, stopped and put his hands on his hips.
“A Rat priest?” Sarkis heard one of the bandits say. “You shot at a Rat priest?!”
Whatever the archer said in his defense was drowned out by the smack of fist on flesh. Someone was very unhappy.
Sarkis shifted, then grabbed for the edge of the wagon wheel as the world went gray around him. He had perhaps been overly optimistic about the arrow.
“Sarkis!” cried Halla, grabbing him to steady him. Unfortunately, she was on the arrow side. He sank his teeth into his lower lip to keep from crying out.
“Oh hell no,” Halla muttered.
“We’ve stopped shooting!” someone called from the trees. “You can stand and deliver now!”
“Just a minute!” called Halla.
“You don’t tell highwaymen ‘just a minute,’”said Sarkis.
“I just did. Zale, take him.” She sounded very businesslike and determined.
Zale took Sarkis’s weight across their shoulders. Even that shift made the arrow move in Sarkis’s side. It felt strange and cold and heavy.
