Cursor's Fury (Codex Alera #3)(14)

The man rose at once and lifted his bow, aiming for the old Maestro.

Tavi stood, whipped the sling around once, and sent the heavy lead sphere whistling through the air.

The attacker's bow twanged.

Tavi's sling bullet hit with a dull smack of impact.

An arrow shattered against a tumbledown rock wall two feet behind Maestro Magnus.

The dust-covered woodcrafter took a little stagger step to one side, and his hand rose toward the quiver on his shoulder. But before he could shoot again, the man's knees seemed to fold of their own accord, and he sank to the ground in a loose heap, eyes staring sightlessly.

From several yards to the north came a ring of steel on steel, then a crackling explosion of thunder. A man let out a brief scream cut violently short.

"Max?" Tavi called.

"They're down!" Max called back. "Flanker?"

Tavi let out a slow sigh of relief at the sound of his friend's voice. "Down," he replied.

Maestro Magnus lifted his hands and stared at them. They trembled violently. He sat down very slowly, as though his legs were no more sturdy than his fingers, and let out a slow breath, pressing a hand to his chest. "I have learned something today, my boy," he said in a weak voice.

"Sir?"

"I have learned that I am too old for this sort of thing."

Max rounded a corner of the nearest ruined building and paced over to the still form of the third man. Blood shone scarlet on Tavi's friend's sword. Max knelt over the third man for a moment, then wiped his sword on the man's tunic and sheathed it on his way back to Tavi and Magnus.

"Dead," he reported.

"The others?" Magnus asked.

Max gave the Maestro a tight, grim smile. "Them, too."

"Crows." Tavi sighed. "We should have kept one alive. Corpses can't tell us who those men are. "

"Bandits?" Magnus suggested.

"With that much crafting?" Max asked, and shook his head. "I don't know about that third one, but the first two were as good as any Knight Flora I've ever seen. I was lucky they were dividing their attention to conceal themselves on those first two shots. Men that good don't take up work as bandits when they can get paid so much more to serve in someone's Legion." He squinted back at the dusty corpse. "Hell, what did you hit him with, Calderon?"

Tavi twitched the hand still holding his sling.

"You're kidding."

"Grew up with it," Tavi said. "Killed a big male slive after one of my uncle's lambs when I was six. Two direwolves, a mountain cat. Scared off a thanadent once. Haven't used it since I was thirteen or so, but I got back into practice to hunt game birds for the Maestro and me."

Max grunted. "You never talked about it."

"Citizens don't use slings. I had enough problems at the Academy without everyone finding out about my expertise in a freeholding bumpkin's weapon."

"Killed him pretty good," Max noted. "For a bumpkin weapon."

"Indeed," Magnus said, his breathing back under control. "An excellent shot, I might add."

Tavi nodded wearily. "Thanks." He glanced down at his bleeding finger, which had begun to swell and pulse with a throbbing burn.

"Crows, Calderon," Max said. "How many times have I told you that you need to stop biting your nails?"

Tavi grimaced at Max and produced a handkerchief. "Give me a hand, here."

"Why? You obviously aren't taking very good care of the ones you've got."