45.

Beware the Angry Wobbyk

The guardsman twirled the net once, twice over his head, and I leapt.

I leapt forward as Khara had taught me, aiming to slide between the guard’s legs and slice upward. But I am not Khara, and my bold attack drew no blood.

Still, the guard must have felt the side of my sword slide along his inner thigh, for he cursed and began clutching at his tunic, pulling it back to see whether he’d been cut.

Outraged, he threw the net and it fell over me. I tried cutting it with my sword, but I couldn’t gain any leverage.

As I twisted and fought to free myself, and Gambler battled desperately, I saw Khara stagger from a savage blow from the hilt of a guardsman’s sword against the side of her head. Her eyes rolled up.

It was three guardsmen now against Gambler. Not even he would survive that.

I sobbed, flailing helplessly in the net.

And then something happened.

Reinforcement. In the form of Tobble.

It was as if he’d been struck by a bolt of lightning and absorbed all its power.

His fur stood on end.

His little claws came out.

His tiny teeth were bared.

He was gibbering something in a language I had never heard.

“Etz shi falk wan!” he cried.

Tobble hurled himself with mad fury on the guardsman who had struck Khara, dug his claws into the man’s ears, and began ripping at his nose.

The guardsman could do nothing with his sword. Frantically he tried to rid himself of Tobble, but the wobbyk had the man’s nose in his teeth. Blood flew everywhere.

The guard who’d netted me rushed to rescue his companion. But Tobble detached himself from his first target and, with a shrill scream that should have come from some much more impressive creature, he threw himself on the second man’s neck from behind. He reached around the guard’s head and grabbed the sides of his mouth, spreading his lips in a gruesome smile. Then he began gnawing at the man’s neck like a lunatic badger.

Finally, I found my way out of the net. I shouted at the top of my lungs: “For the dairnes!”

And then I did what I had never wished to do, never imagined myself doing.

I plunged my sword at Tobble’s first victim. I speared his rear end and he howled with pain.

Staggering, my mind nearly gone, I swung around and slashed at another guardsman behind the knee, where he wore no armor.

Both men bellowed as I headed toward Gambler’s opponent, blood pounding in my ears, my breath coming in gasps. Tobble got there first and began chewing the man’s ear with remarkable ferocity.

Gambler, given the momentary distraction, was up in a flash. He leapt and closed his powerful jaws around the guard’s neck as the man, the cat, the wobbyk, and I all tumbled to the ground.

I pushed free and saw Khara rising to her feet, the side of her head red with blood, fury in her eyes. Fury, which turned to amazement as she saw one of the dreaded Pale Guard soldiers on his knees clutching his rear end, a second one crawling away on his elbows dragging a crippled leg, and a third guardsman frozen beneath the paws of a fearsome-looking Gambler.

“What the . . . ,” she began.

Then she saw Tobble, his fur matted with blood, heaving giant breaths.

“Vallino,” Khara said. “I’m sorry to burden you, but we need speed!”

She grabbed her sword and swung astride the horse. She grabbed me, then Tobble, and placed us before her, reaching around to hold the reins.

“I told you,” Tobble said, panting heavily. “We wobbyks are slow to anger, but we are not helpless!”

“Friend wobbyk,” Khara said, “I am completely convinced.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Gambler?”

“Coming,” he called, glancing at the terrified guardsman still pinned beneath his paws.

Khara said a word to Vallino and we abandoned any pretense of secrecy. We dashed through the streets, trailing the blood of our enemies.

“There she is!” a familiar voice cried as we rounded a bend.

Ahead of us a dozen soldiers ran to block our path. Khara spun Vallino around, his hooves striking sparks from the cobblestones, but a second string of guards was right behind us.

From the first rank of soldiers stepped Luca.

“Take her,” he said in a confident, commanding voice. “And don’t forget her”—he gave us a cold grin—“dog.”