[This post is from Sif’s point of view.]
Grim-faced, Sif stood slowly. “They won’t make it here in time,” she said. “The others? He’ll be on us before they’re arrayed on the wall. He’s coming too fast.”
Seamus straightened slowly, his fingers tightening around the haft of his bow. “Then we need to delay him.”
She looked at him with a faint smile. “I’m glad we’re of the same mind in this.”
Seamus nodded slowly. “I imagine we are. Do you want me to come along, or cover you from the wall?”
For a few seconds, she stared at him, weighing options. Finally, she shook her head. “If Menhit shows up down there to back him up, you’ll be in danger from her little true love trick. Cover me and whatever you do, don’t let Thordin follow me out into that field.”
Seamus nodded, expression grim. “I’ll do what I can.”
“I mean it, Seamus. Do whatever you have to do to keep him off of that field.”
“I will,” he assured her, his voice quiet. “Now go, before someone shows up to talk you out of this.”
“Thank you for not trying.”
“I’m in favor of anything that keeps everyone here alive. Be careful.”
Sif gave him a firm nod and dropped off the wall. She landed in a crouch and straightened slowly, staring out over the field for a moment before she started to walk forward, toward Anhur and what she suspected would be a vain attempt to divert him from his goal—or his task, as she suspected was actually the case.
Even if he truly wanted revenge, he wouldn’t come of his own accord. I know that for certain. His death had been too brutal. The man wasn’t fearless. Sif suspected even death didn’t fully erase old fears, and the fear of death was the oldest for all of them.
Even a thousand years can’t erase some fears.
Her fingers tightened around the haft of her bow. She wasn’t about to let anyone take Thordin from her. Not again.
Never again.
Taking a deep breath, she began to run.
