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as the vessel tipped.

“Paddle!” Agrippa hollered as arrows whizzed past their faces, the people hiding in the bottom screaming.

Baird’s shoulders strained as he fought to extract them from the recirculating flow, the wildmen taking advantage and moving right up to the water’s edge.

Fletching sliced along Killian’s cheek as he fought to keep his balance. Snatching up two more arrows, he braced a heel against a bench and felt Lydia holding on to his leg as he aimed at the nearest attacker, taking the bearded man in the chest. Then another in the leg.

The boat bounced free, and only Lydia’s grip kept him from falling backward into the churning swirl of water. It spun in the current, he and Agrippa scrambling for position. They both hit two more, but then a scream of pain from inside the boat caught Killian’s attention.

One of the arrows had caught a woman in the back of the shoulder, but there was nothing to be done about it.

Except Lydia had let go of his leg and was crawling across the benches toward the woman.

“Stay down!” he shouted at her, but she ignored both him and the arrows that rained around her, sinking into the benches and supplies. It was only a matter of time until one found its mark.

Balancing on one knee, Killian shot arrow after arrow, his aim better as the water steadied, but the wildmen were moving off the bank and out of range.

But the ambush was yet to come.

Killian turned his attention to the rapidly approaching overhang. They’d no longer be running right beneath it, but the wildmen would have the advantage of the higher ground, those in the boat sitting ducks for their arrows.

A figure shifted, and he lifted his bow to aim but the wildman was mostly hidden behind a rock. Shit.

“Back paddle!” he shouted at Baird. Grabbing a handful of arrows, Killian leapt off the side of the boat and landed with a splash a few paces back from shore.

Ignoring the freezing water that filled his boots, he raced down the edge of the river, rising the incline opposite to the overhang. There were four of them crouched in the brush and snow, and their eyes widened in surprise as he appeared on the far side of the river from them.

He killed one before they had a chance to react, then was forced to find cover himself as they shot arrows in his direction.

“Hurry!” he heard Agrippa shout, and leaning out from behind a rock, Killian hit another. But he could hear those who’d survived the first attack racing through the trees toward him. There wasn’t much time.

He shot three more arrows, killing one of the men, but the fourth remained. And Killian had nothing left to shoot at him.

“Go!” he shouted at Baird. “As fast as you can!”

The giant rowed hard, the boat skipping over the rapids. The fourth man grinned in triumph, nocking an arrow and aiming at Baird, but Killian didn’t need a weapon to kill him.

Picking up a rock, he took advantage of the man’s distraction and threw it hard. Grey flashed over the water, then the wildman fell backward, bleeding from the forehead.

But the others were now upon him.

Outnumbered, Killian took three running strides and jumped off the edge. Cold air whistled past his ears as he fell, then he landed with a heavy thud on one of the benches, the boat rocking. Wordless shouts followed him, but the river was already veering around the bend, taking them swiftly out of reach.

“Wasn’t that fun?” Agrippa announced, hooking his bow over one shoulder. “You can all sit up now. Daylight is nearly spent, so they won’t attack again today.”

Ignoring him, Killian stepped over Baird to where Lydia was working, her face grim and her gloved hands coated with blood. “How bad is it?” he asked over the woman’s sobs.

“Not good. I need to take this arrow out and stitch the wound up, but I can’t do it with the way this boat is bouncing around.”

“Then she’ll have to keep until we stop for the night.” Agrippa leaned between two men to run an experienced eye over the bleeding woman. “She’ll last another hour.”

Lydia gave a tight nod, then murmured comforting words to the woman as Killian edged around her to talk to Agrippa. “You said they don’t attack this far upstream.”

“They never have before,” Agrippa muttered, his eyes on the western bank, watchful. “I always figured they didn’t get enough warning we were coming to do so, but they must have someone watching the water levels. Maybe spies upstream.”

“These people need shields to hide behind when we come under attack,” Killian growled. “They’re completely exposed like this. Half of them will be dead by the time we’re through the mountains.”

Agrippa shook his head. “They’ll need both hands to hold on. Those rapids we just passed through are nothing compared to what’s to come.”

Frustrated, Killian scrubbed a hand through his wet hair, not certain why he even cared. These people were from Derin—half of them had fought against him at Alder’s Ford—which meant they were the enemy. And yet he still felt obligated to keep them safe.

“I was honest about the risks, Tom,” Agrippa said, breaking away from his scrutiny of the surrounding mountains to stare Killian down. “They all knew what they were getting into. They all deemed the chance of getting home worth the chance they might lose their lives.”

Killian glanced down at the two children huddled between their parents, no longer laughing when the boat bounced and the water sprayed. “And them?”

“Hopefully not a mistake I’ll have cause to regret.”

Killian retreated to his spot at the rear, stowing his bow and keeping an eye on their surroundings as the sun slowly settled in the sky. True to his word, it wasn’t long until Agrippa called out, “Here’s our stop for the night!”

Baird rowed the boat to shore, where Killian and Agrippa jumped out first, the rest of the group following with Baird carrying the

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