Collop lay at the bottom of the ditch.
Whatever hit him was now on top of him, pressing him to the ground. It was so heavy he found it difficult to breathe.
Reaching his hands up, he touched the object, felt something wet, and pulled his hand back in shock. Three things occurred to him at once. The object on top of him was furry, warm, and bleeding.
Collop grunted, strained, and finally managed to gently shift the weight of the creature off of his chest enough to pull himself free.
Pulling himself up on one arm, he saw an obese, unconscious tikmo lying on its back in the grass beside him.
It was twice the size of any tik he’d ever seen, and it wore a thick belt and boots made of unfamiliar leathery material.
Sssh THUNK!
A long black arrow stuck out of the ground, inches away from Collop’s face.
He rolled away from it instinctively, landing on top of the massive tikmo.
His eyes darted up in the direction of the attack and saw a dark-haired kefi in a green and black patterned cloak descending the slope toward Collop and the tik. The strange kefi paused for a moment to steady himself before moving forward.
Even at this distance, Collop knew this was the neslah he’d seen earlier. As the neslah began to descend again, he regarded Collop with a mixture of confusion and hatred. Collop’s blood ran cold, but then blind fury filled his thoughts and pulled him to his feet.
The neslah archer reached for another arrow, but Collop grabbed his bow at the same time, picked his target, and sent a shaft flying.
The arrow struck the neslah in his left shoulder, sinking deep into the flesh. The neslah grunted and cursed. As he reached to yank out the arrow, his foot slipped, and he fell the rest of the way down the slope, hitting the ground hard.
The archer lay still, but Collop knew he wouldn’t stay down long.
Bottom line, it was time to grab this tik and get moving NOW.
Fishing the rope out of his pack, Collop looped it around the tik’s waist, cinched it tight, and pulled on it with all his might.
The strands sliced into his hands, drawing fresh blood as pulled. He gritted his teeth, planted his feet, and strained until he thought every muscle in his arms would burst.
He finally got the tikmo off of the ground and managed to pull it up a bit further before finally draping its full weight across his back. Collop bent down low and tried to move, but it was simply too much to carry on his own.
The tikmo groaned and wriggled, pressing Collop down even further. Collop shifted his weight and quickly rummaged in his pack with his right hand.
His fingers closed on a small item, which he pulled out. He put it to his lips and blew three quick, sharp blasts. Collop thought he heard a rustle in the distance, but that might be wishful thinking.
He groaned and tried to move the tikmo’s bulk off his lower back.
“If we get out of this alive, I’m puttin ye on a grasking diet.”
Collop put the whistle to his lips again and blew it three more times. This time he was sure he heard a rustling noise.
A black arrow struck the whistle out of his hand, slicing into the fingers holding it. Collop grimaced and pulled the hand close to his body.
“You’re going to pay for that, you puaking1 Gicha.” Marth staggered towards the prone forms of Calbat and Collop, holding his bow in one hand while pressing the other to a spreading patch of blood on the left shoulder of his cloak.
“ Do you hear me, you piece of filth?” Marth snarled through clenched teeth. “Look at me when I talk to”
A shadow passed between Marth and Collop. It was gone in an instant, and Collop and Calbat were nowhere to be seen.
Marth growled in fury, flicking his eyes in all directions. He could just make out a dark shape in the sky, growing smaller and smaller.
FASK!
High in the sky, a Cassin’s Sparrow cut through the air as the wind whipped past him on either side. He glanced down at the tikmo and kefi clenched in his talons and grunted.
“About time ye showed up, you bleeding pincushion!” Collop called up at the bird, smiling as he did so.
The sparrow grunted again.
“Are you sure this tik is heavy enough, Collop,” the sparrow said in a husky baritone, “I only ask because I could barely get off the frecking ground!”
Collop laughed out loud at this. He glanced at the still form of the tikmo to make sure he was still there.
“Gettin weak in your old age, Caser?” Collop said, “Terribly sorry, I’ll only ask you to pick up half a stick next time, so you don’t strain your precious backside.”
Caser grunted again.
“I’m grateful to ye, Caser,” Collop said, changing his tone but speaking loudly to be heard over the wind.
“My camp's not far from here and I need to get this tikmo to our healer. Would ye do me one last favor and take us there?”
Caser sighed dramatically, but he changed course and began to descend toward an area Collop indicated.
“Fair enough, son of Dunn, but after this, we’re even.”
“Aye, that we are lad, that we are.”
Far below, a dark shape moved swiftly through the brush and leaves, keeping an eye on the path of the bird overhead.
Kefita for stinking.