A Bandit Accountant
Chapter Smallest Non-Twin Prime
Scene Two: Friends in Deed
Denario had a plan by the time he found a spot to beach the raft. Unfortunately, a pair of alligators had a different plan. Moonlight made their shapes visible. They occupied the otherwise empty riverbank, pretending to be logs and probably waiting for their next meal to arrive. But logs didn't climb all the way out of the water and lay perpendicular to it like these two. The accountant knew what they were.
All the same, he had to put in to the cove. It was the right spot. He knew there could be no other, not if he intended to dash to the rescue. The creek had taken one of the snake turns that Jack described it acquiring under heavy magic conditions. This particular twist had brought them back around to the same peninsula of land they'd left. That is, it did if Denario pictured it correctly. He felt the anti-mapping magic trying to confuse him. Ordinarily, he'd have no doubts. They hadn't drifted far. He was sure they should emerge almost directly behind the Caravan of the Kill if they cut through the woods from here. But he found that he kept forgetting the urgent need to rescue Ragna. It bothered him in the moments when his mind was clear. He could feel the magic of the area urging a part of his mind to shut down.
On the other hand, Ulf and Torgrim showed signs that they'd completely forgotten where they were. Rescuing Ragna was all they could think about. They kept reminding Denario every few seconds. But the locations of things had become vague in their minds.
“Lie down,” Denario said. He motioned to Ulf.
“Why?”
“Grab weapons. We're going to have to fight alligators.”
“Right.” Ulf seemed to reach a decision. He pulled on his friend's sleeve as he lay. “To rescue Ragna.”
Torgrim allowed himself to tugged by the cuff of his leather anorak. He sunk low to the planks, lay on his back, and readied his weapons. His studded shoulders made a grinding noise against the wood. Chain mail rustled in his sleeves, too. The dark-haired fellow was more armored than any dwarf except the blacksmith.
“I'm waiting,” he grumbled.
“I'm bringing us close. Get ready to leap out and attack.”
As Denario dug the punt hard into the sand, he turned the corner of the raft toward his destination. For a moment, he worried the current was too strong. It threatened to pull the raft past the landing. But in another foot of westward progress, he discovered the difference between the mid-creek flow and the area closer to shore. His raft slipped partway behind a sandbar and everything slowed. He knew he was going to be fine. That is, he was sure until he heard the splash.
“Of course,” he cursed to himself. “A third alligator.”
The dark form came from the sandbar he'd just passed. It paddled to within a yard of the raft. Moonlight glinted of its scales. Its eyes gave off a dull glow not much brighter than the rest of its shadowy form.
“Are you all alone?” it said. “I heard voices.”
Denario paused. The raft felt it instantly. It started to turn. The back of it was still in the faster currents. He resumed his work and thought about how to respond.
“Sorry, fellow,” he said. “There's plenty of us here to fight you.”
The creature came up to the edge of the deck. It rolled its eyeballs. But that wasn't a human expression. The creature was trying to see into the raft. It found that the gunwhales blocked its view. The porcupine-style sticks around the sides did their job.
“Where are the others, then?” it asked.
“Invisible.”
“Damn it.” The alligator rolled its eyes again. It looked angry. Then it dodged, confused, as if Denario were about to strike. Apparently the lie was believable enough.
“We've got lots of armor and weapons,” Denario continued. “And we have come to rescue a dear friend so you don't want to get in our way.”
“I didn't anyway, really.”
“Not hungry?” The accountant kept up his work. The current wasn't fighting him as much but it wasn't helping, either. The raft was laden and heavy.
“Oh, it's not that. I've got my hidden stash of raccoons and fish. I won't starve. But it's different for me when I hunt men. Don't really like it. It's my upbringing. I used to be a knight.”
“Really?” Denario thought about how much he trusted knights. About as much as he trusted alligators, really.
“Promoted on the field of battle. Not that it means much, lots of men were. But I always wanted to dash to the rescue of a maiden.”
“Why didn't you? No maidens in trouble?”
“I wouldn't know. I spent my time fighting wars. A stray spell caught me and well, this happened. About a dozen of us changed altogether. Eight of us managed to flee into the nearest water, the Riggle Kill, but of course the monsters got us. Nasty river. I swam from there up into the ol' No Map because I grew up in this area.”
“Resourceful of you. Do you remember your name?”
“Of course. I'm Sir Robert Galfino.”
“Pleased to meet you Sir Robert. I'm Denario the Dramatic. I've not been knighted.”
“Maybe in time,” Robert suggested.
“Maybe.” Denario found it hard not to shake his head. “Low-born or not, I'm off to rescue a friend. We all are.”
“Not a maiden?” The alligator managed to sound disappointed. “You aren't actually rescuing a maiden?”
“No, I'm afraid not. He's a dwarf named Ragna.”
“A dwarf maiden?”
“Yes,” Ulf announced. It startled Denario to hear anyone besides him and the alligator. He kept switching his focus between the threat of an immediate attack and the prospect of the two alligators on shore fifteen yards ahead.
“Yes?” echoed Denario. He wondered if Ulf had misunderstood.
“Fantastic!” chortled the alligator.
“But Ragna, he's ... she's ... got a beard.” It was a wispy thing but it was still longer and probably fuller than Denario's facial hair.
“All dwarfs have beards, Skilling. Yet Ragna is a maiden. Half of us you've ever seen are female. All of us are equal, not like with humans. We're all strong. We're all fighters. We're all craftsmen.”
“You're all fighters?”
“I'm about to kill anyone between me and Ragna, so yes.”
“Aye,” Torgrim echoed.
“Are you fighting for the love of the maiden?” said the alligator.
There was an awkward beat of silence.
“Funny thing, that,” said Torgrim. “Everyone knows that Ragna loves Ulf.”
“It's been a nuisance,” said Ulf.
“You're not going to let that stop you, right? You're going to rescue her. You've got to.” The alligator trembled like an excited dog. Its tail wagged.
“You're right, Sir Robert.” Ulf sounded sad but resigned. “Somehow it would be even more dastardly if I didn't. Ragna is my senior. If Ragna loves me, too, well ...”
“That's it,” said the alligator. It got its legs moving as it touched sand. “We're charging in.”
“We?”
“The six of us will bite and spear anyone in our way.”
“Even with you, Sir Robert, there's only four of us.”
“Bob and Bob will help.”
“Who are Bob and Bob?” wondered Torgrim.
“I think I know,” said Denario as one of the logs slid into the water in front of him.
The other two alligators weren't the magical sort, apparently, although Sir Robert could reason with them. He was bigger and more muscular. That likely helped. The animals he named Bob and Bob backed away to allow the raft to dock. They carefully turned from the dwarfs as they disembarked. They listened to Sir Robert's orders. When he assigned them the job of guarding the flanks, they did. They led their odd military formation into the woods.
Sir Robert moved up into the point position. He steered them through a wide path that looked like alligators must have made it. The vegetation had been trampled. He kept a watch on the tree boughs. Some large animal must pass through them on occasion, dangerous even to an alligator. Gaps in the leaves let silvery light down, enough so Denario could see his feet. Sometimes he could make out the craggly shapes of individual branches. In other moments, he only felt them with his face. After what was probably one minute of marching, Denario spotted a blazing light through the trees. His mind had wandered. But when he saw campfires from the vantage point of the woods' edge, he remembered where he was and what he'd set out to do. He'd been worried he would hear fighting. Instead, he heard voices. Boldor, by his tone, was angry. Brand was acting like a livid madman in his theatrical way but it was hard to tell if he felt as incensed as he pretended. Regardless, he'd proved he would kill in cold calculation.
Ulf remembered, too. He had been muttering to himself for the entire journey. Now he lifted his axe.
“Ragna!” he screamed. His voice boomed the through the scrubs, down the clear riverbank, and across the water.
At the edge of the clearing, the men all jumped at the sound. They spun in different directions. It seemed they couldn't tell where the shout had come from, which was nice, Denario thought. But the confusion only lasted an instant. Ulf surged forward, followed by Sir Robert. Then Bob and Bob got into it. Denario and Torgrim joined.
Later, when Denario looked back on the mad charge, he found it embarrassing. That was when he learned that he wasn't as fast on on his feet as animals who spent most of their time swimming. For the twenty yards it took, the three alligators waddled faster than he ran. What's more, Torgrim did, too. The accountant couldn't keep up with a dwarf in full armor. When the group of them hit the clearing at the top of the riverbank, Ulf was in the lead. His scream of rage and his whirling battle axe propelled him like a missile. The best Denario could do was to draw his sword and ready himself to follow Ulf's blow.
Ragna's guards stood in the back of the group, which meant, now that everyone was turning around, they were in the front to face the attack. Ragna gaped. The dwarf started to smile at Ulf. But Ulf leaped from the top of the slope, a foot above the closest of the Caravan of the Kill, and swung down at the largest guard.
That man, the Ogglian deserter, got his sword up in time but the force of the axe crushed its edge against his face. He rolled backwards down the slope. His companion tried to take a swing at Ulf but got chopped in the leg by Torgrim as he did so. Torgrim's blade missed, hitting with the flat rather than drawing blood, but the contact saved Ulf. Then Denario stepped in to block the return stroke. That surprised the guard and Torgrim both. It elicited a grin from the dwarf and a grunt of dismay from the guard.
To Denario's surprise, his opponent turned and fled. That was another injury to pride. It wasn't that the man hadn't been hurt. He'd been impressed enough by Denario to flee and that was something. But the ease of his escape showed that anyone who wanted to run from the accountant could do so.
Only one soldier didn't retreat, a poor but brave soul in lamellar armor. He drew his sword to face Denario and Torgrim. An instant later he received such a blow from Ulf that he tumbled down the slope, straight through the campfire, and into the water. That got folks looking uphill at who had done that, if only to avoid him. Before they could take in the figure of Ulf, bloodied axe in hand, flanked by his allies, the alligators swarmed down the slope.
“Get them, Bob!” Sir Robert shouted to one or the other of his companions. “Drive them into the water!”
The Caravan of the Kill had already retreated from the first charge. When Bob and Bob led the second surge, the men found themselves at the edge of the creek. As they tried to decide what to do, they discovered that the dwarfs had already fled onto the rafts. Their retreat from the charge forced the caravan to try to seize the rafts from the dwarfs.
To Denario's right, one of the caravan men tripped on a snare and tumbled into the water.
To the left, Jack Lasker lifted his ancient, stone-tipped hunting arrow and shot a man. Then he dropped his bow behind him and pulled aboard a straggler dwarf onto the mallow-wood raft. He cast off the line and kept the rope. His gaze snapped to his left. He threw off his hat to reveal his bald head in the moonlight and he ran the length of the deck. With a mighty jump, he cleared the distance from his vessel to the next, which was full of dwarfs and men both. He knocked down two men and a dwarf when he landed. Denario worried that he'd injured himself. He staggered like he had. Yet Jack rose from the tumble and cast off the tie line from inside. Both rafts were free.
The dwarfs understood. One of them in the oak raft grabbed a punt and drove deeper into the creek. Behind them, the last raft had already made it. Since the two vessels were tethered by three yards of rope, the mallow raft helped the oak one. But the oak raft pilot had to endure at least three separate fights on board. Jack couldn't help; he had to defend himself from a tall man with a sword. The raft was in danger of grounding on a sandbar.
The alligators re-launched themselves over the gunwhales on the shore side. At first, one of the Bobs started to grab a dwarf in confusion. Everyone scattered. A sharp word from Sir Robert got Bob turned around to grab a human by the leg and hold on.
It was a tough fight. The humans were fast, strong, and fierce. Their speed shocked Denario. He marched down the slope with the idea that he would help but he was glad he hadn't come up against any of these fellows. They stabbed one of the Bobs. The two smaller alligators fled. In the end, the animals had to settle for drowning one man they'd mauled and hauling off the fellow wounded by Ulf. They'd fought to a sort of victory on the shore. The dwarfs had won the rafts. Boldor himself, wielding a sledge hammer, knocked the last invader of the oak raft senseless. The rest of the Caravan of the Kill fled upstream along the river banks.
Denario turned. His gaze swept over the shoreline. He crouched, baselard at the ready, but the only movement near him came from an alligator, Sir Robert. The beast emerged from the water, shoulders looking broader than ever. The droplets falling off his back made a gentle sound. He paused. Like the accountant, he surveyed his position. Then he waddled uphill to where Ulf stood, holding hands with another dwarf.
Ulf had freed Ragna of the ropes and re-equipped his friend with a human sword and axe. The hand axe looked fine, if a bit more primitive than a dwarf would normally like. The sword was one of the curved ones, a scimitar. From tip to pommel it was taller than Ragna's shoulder. The dwarfs had not been able to find a scabbard for it but a sword of any sort was a precious thing to earn by right of battle. The pair of them were plotting to contrive a wooden case for it when Sir Robert arrived with Denario and Torgrim close behind.
“Bob and Bob won't return over land, especially since big Bob is hurt,” said Sir Robert. “They want to collect their food and rest. But I won't feel this business is done until I see the rescued maiden onto your boat.”
When it was explained to Ragna that she was the maiden, the dwarf’s eyes narrowed in anger. Torgrim turned away from the glare.
“I'm grateful for the rescue.” Ragna forced a return to dwarfish politeness. It took visible effort. “You're a very gallant creature, Sir Robert.”
The march back to the lead raft was a bit chilly, and not only due to the time of night. Ulf and Torgrim had overstepped the bounds of propriety. Had the circumstances been different, it seemed likely that Ragna might have challenged them to a duel. As it was, the heaviest dwarf plodded in their midst with a grim silence. Ulf talked about how he kept forgetting where he was. Torgrim kept off to one side with the accountant between him and the others. It was Ulf's worry about finding the raft that kept Denario's mind on the task.
When they arrived at their beachhead, they found Jack Lasker in the process of landing the other rafts. He’d figured out what the accountant had done and knew to match it. But with two rafts, the feat could not have looked more difficult even if Denario could have seen it better. In the dark, in the shadows of the cove, with not enough bare land for three rafts, the riverman poled, leaped, shouted orders, tied knots, shouted again, ran to a different place, and tied again. It sounded like Dodni had taken responsibility for the mallow raft. The dwarf shouted that he couldn't tie down.
“Where's all the rope?” Denario wondered as he approached. Jack had moored the second raft. He was in the process of tethering the lead raft to it. The pieces he was using looked too short. They were scraps, not proper equipment.
“Did you bring what we left upstream?” Jack asked.
“Torgrim did, yes.”
“Good. The rest is in use. The dwarfs wouldn't let me toss the unconscious men over the side.”
Jack finished his knot. He stood back, turned sideways, and swung his arm to gesture to the forms in the darkness behind him. Denario could see five dwarfs clustered in the clear section near the center. Laying on the planks below them were three men. They lay belly down, hands and legs tied. The team that had done the job hadn't stopped there. The men had their elbows bound hard to their sides. Their thighs were wrapped as tight as their ankles. In fact, one man had been left with his left foot relatively free. But it had been mangled, possibly by an alligator, so he didn't seem likely to run away or, for that matter, to survive the night.
Denario leaned closer to Jack. The riThe Bandit Accountant
Chapter Smallest Non-Twin Prime
Scene Two: Friends in Deed
Denario had a plan by the time he found a spot to beach the raft. Unfortunately, a pair of alligators had a different plan. Moonlight made their shapes visible. They occupied the otherwise empty riverbank, pretending to be logs and probably waiting for their next meal to arrive. But logs didn't climb all the way out of the water and lay perpendicular to it like these two. The accountant knew what they were.
All the same, he had to put in to the cove. It was the right spot. He knew there could be no other, not if he intended to dash to the rescue. The creek had taken one of the snake turns that Jack described it acquiring under heavy magic conditions. This particular twist had brought them back around to the same peninsula of land they'd left. That is, it did if Denario pictured it correctly. He felt the anti-mapping magic trying to confuse him. Ordinarily, he'd have no doubts. They hadn't drifted far. He was sure they should emerge almost directly behind the Caravan of the Kill if they cut through the woods from here. But he found that he kept forgetting the urgent need to rescue Ragna. It bothered him in the moments when his mind was clear. He could feel the magic of the area urging a part of his mind to shut down.
On the other hand, Ulf and Torgrim showed signs that they'd completely forgotten where they were. Rescuing Ragna was all they could think about. They kept reminding Denario every few seconds. But the locations of things had become vague in their minds.
“Lie down,” Denario said. He motioned to Ulf.
“Why?”
“Grab weapons. We're going to have to fight alligators.”
“Right.” Ulf seemed to reach a decision. He pulled on his friend's sleeve as he lay. “To rescue Ragna.”
Torgrim allowed himself to tugged by the cuff of his leather anorak. He sunk low to the planks, lay on his back, and readied his weapons. His studded shoulders made a grinding noise against the wood. Chain mail rustled in his sleeves, too. The dark-haired fellow was more armored than any dwarf except the blacksmith.
“I'm waiting,” he grumbled.
“I'm bringing us close. Get ready to leap out and attack.”
As Denario dug the punt hard into the sand, he turned the corner of the raft toward his destination. For a moment, he worried the current was too strong. It threatened to pull the raft past the landing. But in another foot of westward progress, he discovered the difference between the mid-creek flow and the area closer to shore. His raft slipped partway behind a sandbar and everything slowed. He knew he was going to be fine. That is, he was sure until he heard the splash.
“Of course,” he cursed to himself. “A third alligator.”
The dark form came from the sandbar he'd just passed. It paddled to within a yard of the raft. Moonlight glinted of its scales. Its eyes gave off a dull glow not much brighter than the rest of its shadowy form.
“Are you all alone?” it said. “I heard voices.”
Denario paused. The raft felt it instantly. It started to turn. The back of it was still in the faster currents. He resumed his work and thought about how to respond.
“Sorry, fellow,” he said. “There's plenty of us here to fight you.”
The creature came up to the edge of the deck. It rolled its eyeballs. But that wasn't a human expression. The creature was trying to see into the raft. It found that the gunwhales blocked its view. The porcupine-style sticks around the sides did their job.
“Where are the others, then?” it asked.
“Invisible.”
“Damn it.” The alligator rolled its eyes again. It looked angry. Then it dodged, confused, as if Denario were about to strike. Apparently the lie was believable enough.
“We've got lots of armor and weapons,” Denario continued. “And we have come to rescue a dear friend so you don't want to get in our way.”
“I didn't anyway, really.”
“Not hungry?” The accountant kept up his work. The current wasn't fighting him as much but it wasn't helping, either. The raft was laden and heavy.
“Oh, it's not that. I've got my hidden stash of raccoons and fish. I won't starve. But it's different for me when I hunt men. Don't really like it. It's my upbringing. I used to be a knight.”
“Really?” Denario thought about how much he trusted knights. About as much as he trusted alligators, really.
“Promoted on the field of battle. Not that it means much, lots of men were. But I always wanted to dash to the rescue of a maiden.”
“Why didn't you? No maidens in trouble?”
“I wouldn't know. I spent my time fighting wars. A stray spell caught me and well, this happened. About a dozen of us changed altogether. Eight of us managed to flee into the nearest water, the Riggle Kill, but of course the monsters got us. Nasty river. I swam from there up into the ol' No Map because I grew up in this area.”
“Resourceful of you. Do you remember your name?”
“Of course. I'm Sir Robert Galfino.”
“Pleased to meet you Sir Robert. I'm Denario the Dramatic. I've not been knighted.”
“Maybe in time,” Robert suggested.
“Maybe.” Denario found it hard not to shake his head. “Low-born or not, I'm off to rescue a friend. We all are.”
“Not a maiden?” The alligator managed to sound disappointed. “You aren't actually rescuing a maiden?”
“No, I'm afraid not. He's a dwarf named Ragna.”
“A dwarf maiden?”
“Yes,” Ulf announced. It startled Denario to hear anyone besides him and the alligator. He kept switching his focus between the threat of an immediate attack and the prospect of the two alligators on shore fifteen yards ahead.
“Yes?” echoed Denario. He wondered if Ulf had misunderstood.
“Fantastic!” chortled the alligator.
“But Ragna, he's ... she's ... got a beard.” It was a wispy thing but it was still longer and probably fuller than Denario's facial hair.
“All dwarfs have beards, Skilling. Yet Ragna is a maiden. Half of us you've ever seen are female. All of us are equal, not like with humans. We're all strong. We're all fighters. We're all craftsmen.”
“You're all fighters?”
“I'm about to kill anyone between me and Ragna, so yes.”
“Aye,” Torgrim echoed.
“Are you fighting for the love of the maiden?” said the alligator.
There was an awkward beat of silence.
“Funny thing, that,” said Torgrim. “Everyone knows that Ragna loves Ulf.”
“It's been a nuisance,” said Ulf.
“You're not going to let that stop you, right? You're going to rescue her. You've got to.” The alligator trembled like an excited dog. Its tail wagged.
“You're right, Sir Robert.” Ulf sounded sad but resigned. “Somehow it would be even more dastardly if I didn't. Ragna is my senior. If Ragna loves me, too, well ...”
“That's it,” said the alligator. It got its legs moving as it touched sand. “We're charging in.”
“We?”
“The six of us will bite and spear anyone in our way.”
“Even with you, Sir Robert, there's only four of us.”
“Bob and Bob will help.”
“Who are Bob and Bob?” wondered Torgrim.
“I think I know,” said Denario as one of the logs slid into the water in front of him.
The other two alligators weren't the magical sort, apparently, although Sir Robert could reason with them. He was bigger and more muscular. That likely helped. The animals he named Bob and Bob backed away to allow the raft to dock. They carefully turned from the dwarfs as they disembarked. They listened to Sir Robert's orders. When he assigned them the job of guarding the flanks, they did. They led their odd military formation into the woods.
Sir Robert moved up into the point position. He steered them through a wide path that looked like alligators must have made it. The vegetation had been trampled. He kept a watch on the tree boughs. Some large animal must pass through them on occasion, dangerous even to an alligator. Gaps in the leaves let silvery light down, enough so Denario could see his feet. Sometimes he could make out the craggly shapes of individual branches. In other moments, he only felt them with his face. After what was probably one minute of marching, Denario spotted a blazing light through the trees. His mind had wandered. But when he saw campfires from the vantage point of the woods' edge, he remembered where he was and what he'd set out to do. He'd been worried he would hear fighting. Instead, he heard voices. Boldor, by his tone, was angry. Brand was acting like a livid madman in his theatrical way but it was hard to tell if he felt as incensed as he pretended. Regardless, he'd proved he would kill in cold calculation.
Ulf remembered, too. He had been muttering to himself for the entire journey. Now he lifted his axe.
“Ragna!” he screamed. His voice boomed the through the scrubs, down the clear riverbank, and across the water.
At the edge of the clearing, the men all jumped at the sound. They spun in different directions. It seemed they couldn't tell where the shout had come from, which was nice, Denario thought. But the confusion only lasted an instant. Ulf surged forward, followed by Sir Robert. Then Bob and Bob got into it. Denario and Torgrim joined.
Later, when Denario looked back on the mad charge, he found it embarrassing. That was when he learned that he wasn't as fast on on his feet as animals who spent most of their time swimming. For the twenty yards it took, the three alligators waddled faster than he ran. What's more, Torgrim did, too. The accountant couldn't keep up with a dwarf in full armor. When the group of them hit the clearing at the top of the riverbank, Ulf was in the lead. His scream of rage and his whirling battle axe propelled him like a missile. The best Denario could do was to draw his sword and ready himself to follow Ulf's blow.
Ragna's guards stood in the back of the group, which meant, now that everyone was turning around, they were in the front to face the attack. Ragna gaped. The dwarf started to smile at Ulf. But Ulf leaped from the top of the slope, a foot above the closest of the Caravan of the Kill, and swung down at the largest guard.
That man, the Ogglian deserter, got his sword up in time but the force of the axe crushed its edge against his face. He rolled backwards down the slope. His companion tried to take a swing at Ulf but got chopped in the leg by Torgrim as he did so. Torgrim's blade missed, hitting with the flat rather than drawing blood, but the contact saved Ulf. Then Denario stepped in to block the return stroke. That surprised the guard and Torgrim both. It elicited a grin from the dwarf and a grunt of dismay from the guard.
To Denario's surprise, his opponent turned and fled. That was another injury to pride. It wasn't that the man hadn't been hurt. He'd been impressed enough by Denario to flee and that was something. But the ease of his escape showed that anyone who wanted to run from the accountant could do so.
Only one soldier didn't retreat, a poor but brave soul in lamellar armor. He drew his sword to face Denario and Torgrim. An instant later he received such a blow from Ulf that he tumbled down the slope, straight through the campfire, and into the water. That got folks looking uphill at who had done that, if only to avoid him. Before they could take in the figure of Ulf, bloodied axe in hand, flanked by his allies, the alligators swarmed down the slope.
“Get them, Bob!” Sir Robert shouted to one or the other of his companions. “Drive them into the water!”
The Caravan of the Kill had already retreated from the first charge. When Bob and Bob led the second surge, the men found themselves at the edge of the creek. As they tried to decide what to do, they discovered that the dwarfs had already fled onto the rafts. Their retreat from the charge forced the caravan to try to seize the rafts from the dwarfs.
To Denario's right, one of the caravan men tripped on a snare and tumbled into the water.
To the left, Jack Lasker lifted his ancient, stone-tipped hunting arrow and shot a man. Then he dropped his bow behind him and pulled aboard a straggler dwarf onto the mallow-wood raft. He cast off the line and kept the rope. His gaze snapped to his left. He threw off his hat to reveal his bald head in the moonlight and he ran the length of the deck. With a mighty jump, he cleared the distance from his vessel to the next, which was full of dwarfs and men both. He knocked down two men and a dwarf when he landed. Denario worried that he'd injured himself. He staggered like he had. Yet Jack rose from the tumble and cast off the tie line from inside. Both rafts were free.
The dwarfs understood. One of them in the oak raft grabbed a punt and drove deeper into the creek. Behind them, the last raft had already made it. Since the two vessels were tethered by three yards of rope, the mallow raft helped the oak one. But the oak raft pilot had to endure at least three separate fights on board. Jack couldn't help; he had to defend himself from a tall man with a sword. The raft was in danger of grounding on a sandbar.
The alligators re-launched themselves over the gunwhales on the shore side. At first, one of the Bobs started to grab a dwarf in confusion. Everyone scattered. A sharp word from Sir Robert got Bob turned around to grab a human by the leg and hold on.
It was a tough fight. The humans were fast, strong, and fierce. Their speed shocked Denario. He marched down the slope with the idea that he would help but he was glad he hadn't come up against any of these fellows. They stabbed one of the Bobs. The two smaller alligators fled. In the end, the animals had to settle for drowning one man they'd mauled and hauling off the fellow wounded by Ulf. They'd fought to a sort of victory on the shore. The dwarfs had won the rafts. Boldor himself, wielding a sledge hammer, knocked the last invader of the oak raft senseless. The rest of the Caravan of the Kill fled upstream along the river banks.
Denario turned. His gaze swept over the shoreline. He crouched, baselard at the ready, but the only movement near him came from an alligator, Sir Robert. The beast emerged from the water, shoulders looking broader than ever. The droplets falling off his back made a gentle sound. He paused. Like the accountant, he surveyed his position. Then he waddled uphill to where Ulf stood, holding hands with another dwarf.
Ulf had freed Ragna of the ropes and re-equipped his friend with a human sword and axe. The hand axe looked fine, if a bit more primitive than a dwarf would normally like. The sword was one of the curved ones, a scimitar. From tip to pommel it was taller than Ragna's shoulder. The dwarfs had not been able to find a scabbard for it but a sword of any sort was a precious thing to earn by right of battle. The pair of them were plotting to contrive a wooden case for it when Sir Robert arrived with Denario and Torgrim close behind.
“Bob and Bob won't return over land, especially since big Bob is hurt,” said Sir Robert. “They want to collect their food and rest. But I won't feel this business is done until I see the rescued maiden onto your boat.”
When it was explained to Ragna that she was the maiden, the dwarf’s eyes narrowed in anger. Torgrim turned away from the glare.
“I'm grateful for the rescue.” Ragna forced a return to dwarfish politeness. It took visible effort. “You're a very gallant creature, Sir Robert.”
The march back to the lead raft was a bit chilly, and not only due to the time of night. Ulf and Torgrim had overstepped the bounds of propriety. Had the circumstances been different, it seemed likely that Ragna might have challenged them to a duel. As it was, the heaviest dwarf plodded in their midst with a grim silence. Ulf talked about how he kept forgetting where he was. Torgrim kept off to one side with the accountant between him and the others. It was Ulf's worry about finding the raft that kept Denario's mind on the task.
When they arrived at their beachhead, they found Jack Lasker in the process of landing the other rafts. He’d figured out what the accountant had done and knew to match it. But with two rafts, the feat could not have looked more difficult even if Denario could have seen it better. In the dark, in the shadows of the cove, with not enough bare land for three rafts, the riverman poled, leaped, shouted orders, tied knots, shouted again, ran to a different place, and tied again. It sounded like Dodni had taken responsibility for the mallow raft. The dwarf shouted that he couldn't tie down.
“Where's all the rope?” Denario wondered as he approached. Jack had moored the second raft. He was in the process of tethering the lead raft to it. The pieces he was using looked too short. They were scraps, not proper equipment.
“Did you bring what we left upstream?” Jack asked.
“Torgrim did, yes.”
“Good. The rest is in use. The dwarfs wouldn't let me toss the unconscious men over the side.”
Jack finished his knot. He stood back, turned sideways, and swung his arm to gesture to the forms in the darkness behind him. Denario could see five dwarfs clustered in the clear section near the center. Laying on the planks below them were three men. They lay belly down, hands and legs tied. The team that had done the job hadn't stopped there. The men had their elbows bound hard to their sides. Their thighs were wrapped as tight as their ankles. In fact, one man had been left with his left foot relatively free. But it had been mangled, possibly by an alligator, so he didn't seem likely to run away or, for that matter, to survive the night.
Denario leaned closer to Jack. The riverman had blood on the side of his face and on his arm. He'd been cut. His heavy breathing didn't come from the exertion of mooring the rafts, as tricky as that had been. He was still full of anger and nerves from the battle. He'd been wounded. He wanted revenge. Denario didn't blame him.
Behind Jack, in front of the dwarfs, one of the human bodies rolled over from front to side. Eyes opened, bright pupils in the dark. It was Brand DeLadro.
“So, accountant,” Jack murmured into Denario's ear. He gestured to Brand. “Do your alligator friends want more to eat?”
verman had blood on the side of his face and on his arm. He'd been cut. His heavy breathing didn't come from the exertion of mooring the rafts, as tricky as that had been. He was still full of anger and nerves from the battle. He'd been wounded. He wanted revenge. Denario didn't blame him.
Behind Jack, in front of the dwarfs, one of the human bodies rolled over from front to side. Eyes opened, bright pupils in the dark. It was Brand DeLadro.
“So, accountant,” Jack murmured into Denario's ear. He gestured to Brand. “Do your alligator friends want more to eat?”
Next:
Chapter Twenty-Three, Scene Three
