Page 43 of Swordheart
The man’s fingers opened and the knife landed in the leaves with a crunch.
“I’m doing it,” he said. “Not going to fight you. Mina, don’t do anything stupid.”
“That is excellent advice,” said Sarkis. “I suggest you listen to him. Drop your knife as well.”
“But—”
“Mina,” said her partner, in pained tones.
She tossed down the knife, grumbling.
Sarkis lifted the sword a half inch away from the man’s neck. “Now would be an excellent time to back away,” he said.
“Yes. I’m going. Sorry.” The man kept his hands in front, where Sarkis could see them, without even being told. He began backing into the woods.
“Madam, I suggest you go with him. If I have to deal with either of you again, my patience will be exhausted.”
Mina, lips thin and arms folded, joined the man at the edge of the woods.
“You may run now,” said Sarkis pleasantly.
They ran.
The pair did not exactly melt into the trees—there was too much loud crashing and stomping and cursing for that—but they vanished in very short order. Sarkis stood over Halla, sword held at the ready, then leaned down and helped her to her feet.
“Are you sure you’re unhurt?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” said Halla. “I’m fine. Completely fine.”
Don’t embarrass yourself in front of the magic sword.
She nodded firmly to show him how fine she was, and then promptly, humiliatingly, burst into tears.
Sarkis was not in the least surprised. Halla had held up surprisingly well, but two attacks in three days was simply a bridge too far.
He swapped the sword to his off hand and sheathed it awkwardly. With his free hand, he pulled her close.
“It’s all right,” he said. “Shhh. It’s okay. They’re gone.”
She sobbed into his shoulder, fingers locked around the edge of his surcoat. He wrapped his arms around her and waited.
It was not the first time that he’d held someone who was crying their heart out. His mother had done it when his father died. And his troops… well. Fisher was notoriously tenderhearted for a man who put crossbow bolts into people for a living. He bawled after every single battle. Nobody said anything about it because Fisher had saved all their lives twice over. You just patted his back and said, “There, there,” until he was okay again.
Angharad had done it once—and only once—when the man she loved had turned out to be worthless. That had been awkward, since she was a head taller than Sarkis and also he had been battling his desire to take a fast horse after the man and gut him like a hog.
He wouldn’t have minded gutting Halla’s attackers like hogs as well, but he suspected that would have upset her even more. So he contented himself with chasing them off and now with holding Halla while she soaked the front of his surcoat with tears.
She kept saying something over and over again. It took him a few minutes to make out the words through the sobs.
“But I didn’tdoanything to them!”
Sarkis sighed. “I know. I know.”
And that was the problem right there. There was something terribly kind and trusting about Halla. Wherever these people had come from, their impersonal malice had clearly astonished her. She just wasn’t used to evil or desperate people turning up out of nowhere.
Well, when you think about it, the greatest threat was people she knew. And she went off with you, trusting as a lamb, without any more proof of goodwill than that you were clearly enchanted. Why are you surprised that she has no proper fear of strangers?
Yes, but that’s different. I was getting her away from a bad situation,he argued.I was clearly the lesser of two evils.
