Stunned from his fall, Garinor’s mind went numb. He knew he needed to act, and he suspected the guard had tried to protect him. Needing to know the man’s fate, Garinor rolled onto his side, then pushed himself upright. Painfully, he rose to his feet and then hobbled forward to the fallen soldier.
Garinor could see at once what had happened. Three arrows fletched with orange and blue feathers were sticking out of the guard’s chest. They had all pierced the leather armor, ending the poor man’s life. It was hard for Garinor to even look at the wounds. A glint of metal caught the boy’s attention and he saw a golden chain around the man’s neck, ending in a talisman shaped like a tightly closed fist holding a dagger. It seemed oddly familiar to him, but the stray thought vanished before he could dwell on it.
The man was too big for Garinor to move off the road, but he had to do something and so he removed the chain from the man’s neck and tucked it in his nightshirt pocket. Perhaps he would find someone to pass it along to.
A rustling sound echoed not far off, along with hushed voices. Whoever had shot down the guard was coming. Garinor knew he needed to get off the road. Rows of trees lined the path on either side. The horse was long gone, frightened by the sudden loss of both its riders. Garinor’s choices were limited.