Gilded Serpent Danielle Jensen (i can read with my eyes shut .TXT) 📖

Rufina was. “Can you do this?” he asked softly. “There is no shame in saying no. I can take you back, then return on my own.”

“I’m fine. And even if I wasn’t, we can’t afford the delay.” She rose and walked to the edge of the glacier, gravel crunching beneath her boots as she inspected the melting ice.

“Tom!” Agrippa’s voice caught Killian’s attention. “Time to start earning your keep!”

Killian and the other men pushed the boat off its skids and down the gravel to the banks of the now roaring river.

“No refunds, but this is the last chance for any of you who’ve lost your nerve,” Agrippa announced to the group. “The boat stays on the water until dusk, and if you try to turn around at that point, you won’t last ten minutes. Anyone?”

No one spoke. Killian glanced at Lydia, but she only shook her head.

“Then, let’s go.”

He, Agrippa, and Baird pushed the boat halfway into the water before pausing to let the customers climb in and casting off.

Baird sat in the middle and took hold of the oars, Agrippa taking position at the front and Killian at the rear, and everyone else arrayed between as they sped downstream, the giant deftly steering them around any obstacles. The two children giggled and shrieked whenever there were rapids, the boat bucking and plunging, icy spray misting over the group. It was all in all an enjoyable way to travel, but like all good things, it didn’t last.

After a couple hours, Agrippa moved from his place in the front, stepping over people until he reached Killian. “We’re entering wildmen territory,” he said, keeping his balance easily as the boat bobbed over rapids. “There aren’t many good ambush points along the stretch we’ll cross today, but keep a keen eye. They know I’m a good shot, so they don’t usually come down onto the banks of the river. But they also know we have gold, and many of them are good shots themselves. Kill them on sight, understood?”

“Understood.”

Agrippa moved back to his position, then he cleared his throat. “We’re about to hit some rougher water. Not the worst we’ll encounter but rough. Here’s the deal: if you fall out, try to swim to the boat and we’ll pull you back in. But most likely, you’re dead. While I’m sorry about that, there will be no refunds.” He laughed, but everyone on the boat only stared at him with wide eyes. “It hasn’t happened yet, but if the boat flips, swim to shore. We’ll try to right it, but again, it likely means we are all dead. So hope that doesn’t happen. Questions?”

No one said a word.

“All right, then.” Turning to face forward, Agrippa retrieved his bow from the case mounted next to a full quiver, his posture alert as he scanned their surroundings.

Holding his own bow, Killian eyed the land they were passing through. Dense forests covered the steep mountain slopes to either side, the mountains so tall that their peaks were lost in the clouds. Frozen waterfalls zigzagged down the naked rock above the tree line, and it occurred to him that he’d seen nothing living—not even a bird—since they’d left the glacier.

Then he caught sight of a glint of metal in the trees. Squinting, he finally picked out a figure dressed in white furs, almost impossible to see in the snowy terrain. It watched the boat pass without moving, but turning backward, Killian didn’t miss the arrow that shot into the sky. “Agrippa!”

“I saw,” came the grim reply. “Everyone down between the benches. Keep low and hold on.”

“Bloody bone-collecting bastards!” Baird snarled. “Can’t even give us one day’s respite.” Then he let go of an oar and retrieved a helmet from between his feet, jamming it on his bald head.

Taking up two arrows from the quiver fixed to the side of the boat, Killian nocked one, seeing the white water ahead and knowing that was where the ambush would be. The ground to either side was devoid of cover, but the wildmen wouldn’t be standing on a bucking boat when they made their shots.

Dropping to one knee on the bench, he reached down to touch Lydia’s shoulder. “Stay low.” She turned her head to nod, and he saw she’d wisely tucked her spectacles away in a pocket.

The boat rose and fell, bucking like a bee-stung horse, water splashing in over the sides as Baird kept them to the center. Killian held on to the edge to keep his balance, knowing he’d have no such luxury once the attack began.

Then over the roar of the river, he heard shouting. Close to two dozen fur-clad figures rose from where they were hiding in the snow and raced toward the river, bows in hand.

“Get us to the west side, Baird!” Agrippa called, and Killian’s skin prickled. Trap.

Rising, he ignored the force waiting to rain death upon them as they passed, and looked downriver. Saw the series of boulders jutting out of the water that would force the giant to bring them right against the west bank, as well as the twenty feet of overhang. A perfect spot for boarding. “It’s a trap!” he shouted. “They’re going to try to board us from that overhang.”

Agrippa’s gaze jerked downstream, then he shouted, “East bank, Baird!”

“Shit!” the giant swore, his massive shoulders bulging as he fought to change course, nearly running them up on a boulder. Killian hissed between his teeth as wood scraped against rock, but they slid around it, dropping into a dip on the far side.

The boat floundered in the swirling churn of water, then bounced free, shooting toward the waiting wildmen. “You’d better be right about this, Tom!” Agrippa shouted.

But before Killian could answer, arrows thudded into the side of the boat. Swearing, he loosed three arrows of his own, hitting two wildmen and missing a third, while Agrippa hit another two.

Then the boat rolled over another dip, Agrippa nearly going over the edge and Killian barely managing to grab hold