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The fight surged, deadly and furious. With loud battlecries the dwarves held their own, fighting to protect their caravan, their livelihood. But the raiders were confident and would not back down, driven by an almost mad desire to claim what wasn't theirs. In and out of this fight Kahli dodged, cloak pulled around her shoulders and hood hanging low to cover her face. She mustn't be seen, she mustn't be seen, she mustn't… The words drummed through her head like a chant, driving her on. Somehow, though in the back of her mind she knew it wasn't true, she felt as though if she could only reach her pony she would be safe. Nothing could happen to her then. Or that was what she tried to believe.
Blindly she stumbled through the confusion, heart pounding against the terror that tightened her chest. No, no, no! How could this have happened? It had to be some sort of horribly real nightmare. It couldn't be real. It couldn't!
"Jus' where d'you think yer goin' in such a hurry?" A rough voice yanked her sharply from her thoughts. So absorbed had she been, she hadn't noticed the burly Man that was suddenly looming before her. He glared down at her, greasy hair falling into his eyes, unkempt beard covering most of his face, clothing little more than filthy rags sewn haphazardly together, yellow teeth bared in a snarl and a grimy hand clutching a poor excuse for a dagger. Startled, she halted and peered up at the stranger from beneath the cover of her hood. "Well?"
Words spilled out in reply before she could stop them, controlled by a mixture of anger and fear. "Let me pass and neither of us will be hurt!" Then she stopped, shocked at how confident her voice had sounded. She certainly didn't feel confident. In fact, now she wasn't so sure that had been the right thing to say, confidant or not. But either way, her delayer wasn't about to be shaken by this, real or feigned. He had come to kill off as many of these filthy hole-diggers as he could and take as much of their wealth as possible. He wasn't about to be intimidated by an especially small one, no matter how big they could talk.
"Don't matter to me either way," the Man grunted, grinning nastily at her. "I ain't the one gonna get 'urt." That said he lunged at her, dagger swinging. Biting back a cry of alarm, Kahli dropped to the ground to avoid the blade's arc. Surprised by this course of action, having expected a dodge to the side rather than a duck, which ultimately trapped her, the raider lost his balance and stumbled forward. In a terrible rush, the dwarf realized her potentially fatal mistake. Never, even were she an elf, would she be able to move from where she was before he regained his balance. She had practically gift-wrapped herself. In an instant his balance would be gotten once more and that jagged piece of metal would be coming towards her again. Any moment now.
Exactly as she had expected, her attacker quickly caught his balance and lunged again, growling with fury. Despite herself, Kahli winced, waiting for the blow to come. None did. Instead there was a thud, a grunt and a rush of air going by. Then a very familiar voice.
"Thought you'd have the sense to stay out of this mess, Kahli." Oror piped, scrambling off of the Man whom he had just successfully tackled. And was no longer moving. Both dwarves watched him carefully for a moment, before the older of the two reached forward and rolled the body over with a grunt, standing back to study the scene. He nodded slowly, looking up at Kahli. "Yep, what I thought. Fell on his knife. One less of them we need to worry about."
The female dwarf stared for a moment or two, trembling slightly. "Thanks," she finally said, voice shaking. "I was sure that was the end of me."
The response was a surprisingly cheerful one, under the circumstances. "Aw, not a chance." The other dwarf grinned at her. "You've still got awhile to go yet, I'm sure of it!" There was not a bit of doubt in the comment, and she couldn't help but take a little comfort in it. Perhaps this wasn't the truth, but that didn't mean it couldn't help her feel better. "Come on! Your pony's over here, I saw him just a bit ago." Before she could reply Oror was moving, shoving his way quickly through the tangled underbrush. She hesitated a moment before nodding resolutely and pulling her hood closer about her face, following after him. In all this mess she was anxious to see her pony again and assure herself that he, at least, was all right. Why even worry about her father? She knew he was fine. He had to be. …right? Of course he was! Setting her jaw, she pushed the thought away and kept moving.
It seemed as though everything was against them today. Roots reached up from the ground to trip them, branches reached out to grab them, the thick scrub snatched at them, slowing them down. And all around there came shouts and cries of both the Men and her own people, the screams of frightened and hurt ponies. A lump grew in her throat as she dwelt on it but she forced the tears down. No. That wouldn't help now. Neither her nor her people.
Up ahead, Oror had stopped, waiting for her. Swallowing hard, she quickened her pace and edged up next to him. "What's wrong?"
He didn't reply, merely pointing as an answer. They had indeed come to the place where she had tied the two ponies earlier. But the peaceful scene had changed. Instead of the two ponies grazing peacefully amongst the trees, she saw two ponies—and four Men. Copp was shying from the large strangers, backing away nervously from their advances and simply refusing to be led. But it was obvious this was only succeeding in slowing them up a little and most of all, annoying them. They were quickly growing impatient and Kahli was sure her poor pony would quickly be caught and forced into submission if something wasn't done. Kazor, on the other hand, showed no intention of giving in any time soon. The powerful pony, more like a small horse in size and strength, was rearing, snapping and striking out with both fore and hind hooves. He screamed with fury and lashed out again and again, letting neither Man, nor stick, nor rope, anywhere near him. These actions managed to bring wry smiles to the young dwarves' faces. They knew well enough how terrible that beast could be when he had the mind. And he certainly was riled now.
Oror watched all this for only a moment before turning to Kahli and nodding grimly. "I've got a plan," he finally announced, eyes glinting with fiery determination.
"What?" Nervous energy was building and Kahli struggled to keep her voice low. "What will we do?"
Taking a deep breath, he began to rattle off an explanation. "Well, first you take this, just in case." She was handed a large knife that looked oddly familiar. After a moment recognition hit her. It was a meat knife, obviously taken from someone's pack. At her skeptic expression her friend grinned. "It'll serve well enough. How do you think I took down all them great lugs I met?"
"With a kitchen knife?!" Kahli hissed, absolutely shocked. "Oror, I thought you knew better than to try a stunt like—"
"Shh!" Her scolding was cut off abruptly. "Do you want the rest of my plan or not?"
The female dwarf rolled her eyes and sighed wearily, though she couldn't hold back an amused smile as she took the well-sharpened utensil from him. "Fine, fine. Go on."
"Right then," Oror stroked his short beard thoughtfully. "I'm thinking a surprise attack." She nodded at this, encouraging him on. "This is what we'll do. I count to three, like this: One… two… three." He stopped again to make certain she was still with him. At another nod from her, he continued. "And then," once more he paused, this time to grin at her. "We ATTACK!" His final word was a shout and he leaped from the cover of the shrub, charging recklessly toward the group of Men.
Kahli startled backwards at his yell, staring after him wide-eyed as he rushed forward. "A surprise attack for who?" she muttered to herself, shaking her head. Heaving a deep breath, she clutched her knife in a death grip and lunged into the fray, hollering as she went.
Caught off-guard, the raiders stumbled back under the assault, assuming from all the yelling that there was more attackers than two. One went down where he stood, under Oror's blade. Another managed to back himself up to a tree, where Kahli managed to grit her teeth and get it over with. But the remaining two quickly came to their senses and rounded on the two dwarves, one unsheathing a sword and the other bringing out a long dagger. Both looked far more challenging than the one Kahli had met earlier.
"Khazâd ai-mênu!" Oror shouted the battlecry fearlessly, lowering his head and charging the two thieves with his usual recklessness. They bared their teeth at him in predatorial grins, bracing themselves to the onslaught. With surprising skill the dwarf dodged a blow sent at him, switching quickly from offensive to defensive. The Man with the sword swung again and again at him, forcing him to keep his distance and giving him no chance to get within stabbing range. But it was obvious the Man had no skill with his weapon. His attacks were slow and clumsy, leaving him off-balance for a few precious seconds after each swing. A deadly mistake it was, to fight with an unfamiliar weapon. This was shown to him briefly, when Oror succeeded in faking one direction, then diving forward to implant his knife in the human's chest. Shocked, the sword-wielder staggered, swayed, and crashed to the ground.
But Oror didn't get a chance to rest. Already the second had covered the ground between himself and the dwarf. He stared for a moment as his friend hit the forest floor, then whirled on the owner of knife that had caused it, fury blazing in his eyes. "You filthy rat!" The Man's face twisted as he spat the words out, like they left a bad taste in his mouth. "You filthy, hole-digging rat! I'll show you what's for!" With that he thrust his dagger at Oror, stabbing with a blind rage. Now weaponless, the dwarf sprang back to avoid the blade, the realization of his defenselessness suddenly dawning on him. This looked bad. Very bad.
"Behind you!" Near the tree, bloody knife still in hand, Kahli spotted the gnarled root that stuck up from the ground and shouted a warning, breaking free of her frozen panic. A moment too late. Her friend tried to check himself, stumbled, and fell backwards, landing hard on his left arm. Despite his best efforts to hold back a cry of pain from the impact, a strangled yelp escaped and his female friend winced at the sound.
"Now you'll pay for what you did to Roston, "growled the Man, feral grin pasted on his face and an almost insane gleam in his watery eyes as he rounded in on his fallen pray. He tensed, preparing himself to attack. Only to be suddenly knocked aside.
Kahli landed atop the human with a grunt, the air rushing out of her lungs. A wave of dizziness washed over her and in that brief moment of fogginess she couldn't help but find the irony of the situation as she lay there, gasping for breath. Oror's battlecry, 'The Dwarves are upon you!' No, she decided as the thoughts whizzed by in her brain, it hadn't been meant quite this literally.
And then, as quickly as it had slowed, time sped up again.
"Kahli!" She heard a voice yelling, just as the pain in her chest flared up and she noticed a movement underneath her. With sickening abruptness, everything was happening at once.
"Get off me, filth!" The Man, momentarily her captive, was screaming loudly and struggling. She felt dizzy and she couldn't breath. And despite her muscular build, her weight was nothing compared to that of the much larger man. He wouldn't be held for long.
"Finish him! Hurry!" Oror was shouting at her. From the corner of her eye she caught his face, pale and strained. He was clutching his left arm.
Her friend's order cut through her fogged mind and she realized she still held the bloodied knife in her hand. The knife she had used to kill that human by the tree. She had seen the sudden shock (and… fear?) in his eyes just before she had plunged the blade into his throat. Could she do it again?
Her thoughts gave her captive all the time he needed to collect himself once more, and he thrashed wildly, shoving her aside and scrambling to his feet. Kahli found herself thrown to the ground once more and rolled, just managing not to fall on her own knife. The Man's eyes burned with renewed fury and he glared down at her, about to say something. He was promptly cut off by Oror. "Hey, thief! You've still a bone to pick with me!" At the dwarf's words the human obviously bristled and he whirled around to face the owner of this cocky voice, completely ignoring Kahli.
"Yes, you. I'd almost forgotten." Any doubt in the two dwarves' minds about this creature's sanity were suddenly cleared. He had gone from full fury to suddenly reasonable, relaxed, gentile. But the glint in his eyes told otherwise. "Well, you filthy cave-dwelling rat? Shall we end this?" And then, as quickly as before, he became wild again, a mad grin contorting his face, eyes wide and bright. Laughing maniacally, he lunged at Oror completely weaponless, seeming prepared to strangle the dwarf to death. Frightened by his enemy's strange behavior, Oror stumbled back, still clutching his arm. Only to have the human collapse at his feet, crazed eyes glazed over and insane grin still on his face. With a meat knife sticking from his back.
Kahli stared at the fallen Man, eyes wide. What had she done? Twice. She had killed someone twice. Horrified, she looked down at her own hands, almost expecting them to look different, alien. They looked the same as they did everyday. But they couldn't. She had killed. Her breath caught in her throat and she choked back a sob. No. This couldn't have happened.
"Hey, Kahli?" Oror was at her side, voice strangled but concerned. "You… you all right?" She stared at him, looking as though she was about to be sick.
"I… I killed them." she whispered, not quite believing it. A shiver ran through her and she bit her lip, hard. How could she not believe it? The evidence was all around her.
"Look," her friend's voice was suddenly stiff and cold, forcing her to pay attention. "You've gotta let it go. It happens. You were only defending yourself. Let it go." His last words were spoken slowly and clearly, drilling into her horrified shock.
"But, I—" she began to protest, but was quickly cut off again.
"Kahli, you have to think. Pull it together and listen to me." He paused, waiting for her to show she was listening. Kahli sighed and nodded, trying her very best to push aside her own thoughts and pay attention. "Good. Now, we've got to get moving again as soon as possible. The city's not too far away and it's safe, but if we stay around here too long they'll be back to attack us again and finish what they started." Oror exhaled loudly, trying to hold back a shiver. "We need to get out of here. Fast. But without the ponies we'll never move fast enough."
"So we need to go after them and bring them back," Kahli prompted, bobbing her head. "I thought that much. Well, let's go. The sooner the better…" She trailed off, noticing her friend was about to say something. He hesitated, dropping his gaze to the forest floor. The fact that he still held his arm tightly struck her and within a moment she understood. "And you can't come with me…"
Reluctantly Oror nodded, face still pale and his breathing tight. "I would, you know I would. But I couldn't ride with my arm like this… I think it's sprained. I'd only slow you down."
"No, I understand." She put a gentle hand on his shoulder and forced a weak smile. "I'll manage." Nodding resolutely, she reached back and pulled her fallen hood back up, covering her face once more. "Take care of Copp for me, will you?"
"Copp?" Her friend's pained face suddenly looked startled. "If I take Copp who'll you ride?"
"Kazor." Beneath her hood she smiled wryly. "He should let me now. My father said he might." Of course, the keyword here was 'might' as her father had also said, but she didn't mention that part. No need to bother with the details. "He's faster, stronger and would be the best choice to round up the others. He's smart too; I'll need that. Copp's just not as old. You take care of him." Oror stared at her as though she had suddenly gone as mad as the human.
"You're not joking, are you? You're serious about this!" he choked out, his shock nearly overriding his pain.
"I'm serious, all right. And I'm not waiting any longer." She was already turning, moving away. "Tell father to get going as soon as possible. I'll catch up." A bridle was snatched off a low branch where it had been hanging as she headed to where Kazor remained tied. No one had gotten close enough to untie him.
"I… I will."
"Good." The black stallion didn't move as she approached, even lowering his head to accept the bit and bridle. He seemed to sense something was going on. He was consenting once more.
Next came the blanket and saddle, which he also bore without blinking twice. And then the weight of a smaller dwarf than he was used to. Kazor snorted and pawed the ground anxiously as the reins were taken up and Kahli smiled a little, patting his neck. "Thank you," she whispered to his flicking ears before leaning back again and straightening in the saddle. A deep breath was sucked in, released. The reins were tugged; he whirled toward the forest.
"I'll watch Copp for you!" Oror called, from where he remained rooted.
"Right. Thanks, Oror."
"And I'll be sure to find your father."
"Tell him, too."
"I will. And Kahli?"
"Yeah?"
"Just… be careful."
"You too, Oror."
Kazor was nudged and he eagerly sprang forward, hooves digging into the earth as he picked up speed. Rapidly the pony and rider gained speed as they dodged in and out between trees, drawing farther and farther from the scattered camp, the cries, the shouts, the fight itself. They galloped on.
The fight surged, deadly and furious. With loud battlecries the dwarves held their own, fighting to protect their caravan, their livelihood. But the raiders were confident and would not back down, driven by an almost mad desire to claim what wasn't theirs. In and out of this fight Kahli dodged, cloak pulled around her shoulders and hood hanging low to cover her face. She mustn't be seen, she mustn't be seen, she mustn't… The words drummed through her head like a chant, driving her on. Somehow, though in the back of her mind she knew it wasn't true, she felt as though if she could only reach her pony she would be safe. Nothing could happen to her then. Or that was what she tried to believe.
Blindly she stumbled through the confusion, heart pounding against the terror that tightened her chest. No, no, no! How could this have happened? It had to be some sort of horribly real nightmare. It couldn't be real. It couldn't!
"Jus' where d'you think yer goin' in such a hurry?" A rough voice yanked her sharply from her thoughts. So absorbed had she been, she hadn't noticed the burly Man that was suddenly looming before her. He glared down at her, greasy hair falling into his eyes, unkempt beard covering most of his face, clothing little more than filthy rags sewn haphazardly together, yellow teeth bared in a snarl and a grimy hand clutching a poor excuse for a dagger. Startled, she halted and peered up at the stranger from beneath the cover of her hood. "Well?"
Words spilled out in reply before she could stop them, controlled by a mixture of anger and fear. "Let me pass and neither of us will be hurt!" Then she stopped, shocked at how confident her voice had sounded. She certainly didn't feel confident. In fact, now she wasn't so sure that had been the right thing to say, confidant or not. But either way, her delayer wasn't about to be shaken by this, real or feigned. He had come to kill off as many of these filthy hole-diggers as he could and take as much of their wealth as possible. He wasn't about to be intimidated by an especially small one, no matter how big they could talk.
"Don't matter to me either way," the Man grunted, grinning nastily at her. "I ain't the one gonna get 'urt." That said he lunged at her, dagger swinging. Biting back a cry of alarm, Kahli dropped to the ground to avoid the blade's arc. Surprised by this course of action, having expected a dodge to the side rather than a duck, which ultimately trapped her, the raider lost his balance and stumbled forward. In a terrible rush, the dwarf realized her potentially fatal mistake. Never, even were she an elf, would she be able to move from where she was before he regained his balance. She had practically gift-wrapped herself. In an instant his balance would be gotten once more and that jagged piece of metal would be coming towards her again. Any moment now.
Exactly as she had expected, her attacker quickly caught his balance and lunged again, growling with fury. Despite herself, Kahli winced, waiting for the blow to come. None did. Instead there was a thud, a grunt and a rush of air going by. Then a very familiar voice.
"Thought you'd have the sense to stay out of this mess, Kahli." Oror piped, scrambling off of the Man whom he had just successfully tackled. And was no longer moving. Both dwarves watched him carefully for a moment, before the older of the two reached forward and rolled the body over with a grunt, standing back to study the scene. He nodded slowly, looking up at Kahli. "Yep, what I thought. Fell on his knife. One less of them we need to worry about."
The female dwarf stared for a moment or two, trembling slightly. "Thanks," she finally said, voice shaking. "I was sure that was the end of me."
The response was a surprisingly cheerful one, under the circumstances. "Aw, not a chance." The other dwarf grinned at her. "You've still got awhile to go yet, I'm sure of it!" There was not a bit of doubt in the comment, and she couldn't help but take a little comfort in it. Perhaps this wasn't the truth, but that didn't mean it couldn't help her feel better. "Come on! Your pony's over here, I saw him just a bit ago." Before she could reply Oror was moving, shoving his way quickly through the tangled underbrush. She hesitated a moment before nodding resolutely and pulling her hood closer about her face, following after him. In all this mess she was anxious to see her pony again and assure herself that he, at least, was all right. Why even worry about her father? She knew he was fine. He had to be. …right? Of course he was! Setting her jaw, she pushed the thought away and kept moving.
It seemed as though everything was against them today. Roots reached up from the ground to trip them, branches reached out to grab them, the thick scrub snatched at them, slowing them down. And all around there came shouts and cries of both the Men and her own people, the screams of frightened and hurt ponies. A lump grew in her throat as she dwelt on it but she forced the tears down. No. That wouldn't help now. Neither her nor her people.
Up ahead, Oror had stopped, waiting for her. Swallowing hard, she quickened her pace and edged up next to him. "What's wrong?"
He didn't reply, merely pointing as an answer. They had indeed come to the place where she had tied the two ponies earlier. But the peaceful scene had changed. Instead of the two ponies grazing peacefully amongst the trees, she saw two ponies—and four Men. Copp was shying from the large strangers, backing away nervously from their advances and simply refusing to be led. But it was obvious this was only succeeding in slowing them up a little and most of all, annoying them. They were quickly growing impatient and Kahli was sure her poor pony would quickly be caught and forced into submission if something wasn't done. Kazor, on the other hand, showed no intention of giving in any time soon. The powerful pony, more like a small horse in size and strength, was rearing, snapping and striking out with both fore and hind hooves. He screamed with fury and lashed out again and again, letting neither Man, nor stick, nor rope, anywhere near him. These actions managed to bring wry smiles to the young dwarves' faces. They knew well enough how terrible that beast could be when he had the mind. And he certainly was riled now.
Oror watched all this for only a moment before turning to Kahli and nodding grimly. "I've got a plan," he finally announced, eyes glinting with fiery determination.
"What?" Nervous energy was building and Kahli struggled to keep her voice low. "What will we do?"
Taking a deep breath, he began to rattle off an explanation. "Well, first you take this, just in case." She was handed a large knife that looked oddly familiar. After a moment recognition hit her. It was a meat knife, obviously taken from someone's pack. At her skeptic expression her friend grinned. "It'll serve well enough. How do you think I took down all them great lugs I met?"
"With a kitchen knife?!" Kahli hissed, absolutely shocked. "Oror, I thought you knew better than to try a stunt like—"
"Shh!" Her scolding was cut off abruptly. "Do you want the rest of my plan or not?"
The female dwarf rolled her eyes and sighed wearily, though she couldn't hold back an amused smile as she took the well-sharpened utensil from him. "Fine, fine. Go on."
"Right then," Oror stroked his short beard thoughtfully. "I'm thinking a surprise attack." She nodded at this, encouraging him on. "This is what we'll do. I count to three, like this: One… two… three." He stopped again to make certain she was still with him. At another nod from her, he continued. "And then," once more he paused, this time to grin at her. "We ATTACK!" His final word was a shout and he leaped from the cover of the shrub, charging recklessly toward the group of Men.
Kahli startled backwards at his yell, staring after him wide-eyed as he rushed forward. "A surprise attack for who?" she muttered to herself, shaking her head. Heaving a deep breath, she clutched her knife in a death grip and lunged into the fray, hollering as she went.
Caught off-guard, the raiders stumbled back under the assault, assuming from all the yelling that there was more attackers than two. One went down where he stood, under Oror's blade. Another managed to back himself up to a tree, where Kahli managed to grit her teeth and get it over with. But the remaining two quickly came to their senses and rounded on the two dwarves, one unsheathing a sword and the other bringing out a long dagger. Both looked far more challenging than the one Kahli had met earlier.
"Khazâd ai-mênu!" Oror shouted the battlecry fearlessly, lowering his head and charging the two thieves with his usual recklessness. They bared their teeth at him in predatorial grins, bracing themselves to the onslaught. With surprising skill the dwarf dodged a blow sent at him, switching quickly from offensive to defensive. The Man with the sword swung again and again at him, forcing him to keep his distance and giving him no chance to get within stabbing range. But it was obvious the Man had no skill with his weapon. His attacks were slow and clumsy, leaving him off-balance for a few precious seconds after each swing. A deadly mistake it was, to fight with an unfamiliar weapon. This was shown to him briefly, when Oror succeeded in faking one direction, then diving forward to implant his knife in the human's chest. Shocked, the sword-wielder staggered, swayed, and crashed to the ground.
But Oror didn't get a chance to rest. Already the second had covered the ground between himself and the dwarf. He stared for a moment as his friend hit the forest floor, then whirled on the owner of knife that had caused it, fury blazing in his eyes. "You filthy rat!" The Man's face twisted as he spat the words out, like they left a bad taste in his mouth. "You filthy, hole-digging rat! I'll show you what's for!" With that he thrust his dagger at Oror, stabbing with a blind rage. Now weaponless, the dwarf sprang back to avoid the blade, the realization of his defenselessness suddenly dawning on him. This looked bad. Very bad.
"Behind you!" Near the tree, bloody knife still in hand, Kahli spotted the gnarled root that stuck up from the ground and shouted a warning, breaking free of her frozen panic. A moment too late. Her friend tried to check himself, stumbled, and fell backwards, landing hard on his left arm. Despite his best efforts to hold back a cry of pain from the impact, a strangled yelp escaped and his female friend winced at the sound.
"Now you'll pay for what you did to Roston, "growled the Man, feral grin pasted on his face and an almost insane gleam in his watery eyes as he rounded in on his fallen pray. He tensed, preparing himself to attack. Only to be suddenly knocked aside.
Kahli landed atop the human with a grunt, the air rushing out of her lungs. A wave of dizziness washed over her and in that brief moment of fogginess she couldn't help but find the irony of the situation as she lay there, gasping for breath. Oror's battlecry, 'The Dwarves are upon you!' No, she decided as the thoughts whizzed by in her brain, it hadn't been meant quite this literally.
And then, as quickly as it had slowed, time sped up again.
"Kahli!" She heard a voice yelling, just as the pain in her chest flared up and she noticed a movement underneath her. With sickening abruptness, everything was happening at once.
"Get off me, filth!" The Man, momentarily her captive, was screaming loudly and struggling. She felt dizzy and she couldn't breath. And despite her muscular build, her weight was nothing compared to that of the much larger man. He wouldn't be held for long.
"Finish him! Hurry!" Oror was shouting at her. From the corner of her eye she caught his face, pale and strained. He was clutching his left arm.
Her friend's order cut through her fogged mind and she realized she still held the bloodied knife in her hand. The knife she had used to kill that human by the tree. She had seen the sudden shock (and… fear?) in his eyes just before she had plunged the blade into his throat. Could she do it again?
Her thoughts gave her captive all the time he needed to collect himself once more, and he thrashed wildly, shoving her aside and scrambling to his feet. Kahli found herself thrown to the ground once more and rolled, just managing not to fall on her own knife. The Man's eyes burned with renewed fury and he glared down at her, about to say something. He was promptly cut off by Oror. "Hey, thief! You've still a bone to pick with me!" At the dwarf's words the human obviously bristled and he whirled around to face the owner of this cocky voice, completely ignoring Kahli.
"Yes, you. I'd almost forgotten." Any doubt in the two dwarves' minds about this creature's sanity were suddenly cleared. He had gone from full fury to suddenly reasonable, relaxed, gentile. But the glint in his eyes told otherwise. "Well, you filthy cave-dwelling rat? Shall we end this?" And then, as quickly as before, he became wild again, a mad grin contorting his face, eyes wide and bright. Laughing maniacally, he lunged at Oror completely weaponless, seeming prepared to strangle the dwarf to death. Frightened by his enemy's strange behavior, Oror stumbled back, still clutching his arm. Only to have the human collapse at his feet, crazed eyes glazed over and insane grin still on his face. With a meat knife sticking from his back.
Kahli stared at the fallen Man, eyes wide. What had she done? Twice. She had killed someone twice. Horrified, she looked down at her own hands, almost expecting them to look different, alien. They looked the same as they did everyday. But they couldn't. She had killed. Her breath caught in her throat and she choked back a sob. No. This couldn't have happened.
"Hey, Kahli?" Oror was at her side, voice strangled but concerned. "You… you all right?" She stared at him, looking as though she was about to be sick.
"I… I killed them." she whispered, not quite believing it. A shiver ran through her and she bit her lip, hard. How could she not believe it? The evidence was all around her.
"Look," her friend's voice was suddenly stiff and cold, forcing her to pay attention. "You've gotta let it go. It happens. You were only defending yourself. Let it go." His last words were spoken slowly and clearly, drilling into her horrified shock.
"But, I—" she began to protest, but was quickly cut off again.
"Kahli, you have to think. Pull it together and listen to me." He paused, waiting for her to show she was listening. Kahli sighed and nodded, trying her very best to push aside her own thoughts and pay attention. "Good. Now, we've got to get moving again as soon as possible. The city's not too far away and it's safe, but if we stay around here too long they'll be back to attack us again and finish what they started." Oror exhaled loudly, trying to hold back a shiver. "We need to get out of here. Fast. But without the ponies we'll never move fast enough."
"So we need to go after them and bring them back," Kahli prompted, bobbing her head. "I thought that much. Well, let's go. The sooner the better…" She trailed off, noticing her friend was about to say something. He hesitated, dropping his gaze to the forest floor. The fact that he still held his arm tightly struck her and within a moment she understood. "And you can't come with me…"
Reluctantly Oror nodded, face still pale and his breathing tight. "I would, you know I would. But I couldn't ride with my arm like this… I think it's sprained. I'd only slow you down."
"No, I understand." She put a gentle hand on his shoulder and forced a weak smile. "I'll manage." Nodding resolutely, she reached back and pulled her fallen hood back up, covering her face once more. "Take care of Copp for me, will you?"
"Copp?" Her friend's pained face suddenly looked startled. "If I take Copp who'll you ride?"
"Kazor." Beneath her hood she smiled wryly. "He should let me now. My father said he might." Of course, the keyword here was 'might' as her father had also said, but she didn't mention that part. No need to bother with the details. "He's faster, stronger and would be the best choice to round up the others. He's smart too; I'll need that. Copp's just not as old. You take care of him." Oror stared at her as though she had suddenly gone as mad as the human.
"You're not joking, are you? You're serious about this!" he choked out, his shock nearly overriding his pain.
"I'm serious, all right. And I'm not waiting any longer." She was already turning, moving away. "Tell father to get going as soon as possible. I'll catch up." A bridle was snatched off a low branch where it had been hanging as she headed to where Kazor remained tied. No one had gotten close enough to untie him.
"I… I will."
"Good." The black stallion didn't move as she approached, even lowering his head to accept the bit and bridle. He seemed to sense something was going on. He was consenting once more.
Next came the blanket and saddle, which he also bore without blinking twice. And then the weight of a smaller dwarf than he was used to. Kazor snorted and pawed the ground anxiously as the reins were taken up and Kahli smiled a little, patting his neck. "Thank you," she whispered to his flicking ears before leaning back again and straightening in the saddle. A deep breath was sucked in, released. The reins were tugged; he whirled toward the forest.
"I'll watch Copp for you!" Oror called, from where he remained rooted.
"Right. Thanks, Oror."
"And I'll be sure to find your father."
"Tell him, too."
"I will. And Kahli?"
"Yeah?"
"Just… be careful."
"You too, Oror."
Kazor was nudged and he eagerly sprang forward, hooves digging into the earth as he picked up speed. Rapidly the pony and rider gained speed as they dodged in and out between trees, drawing farther and farther from the scattered camp, the cries, the shouts, the fight itself. They galloped on.