"He got sworn to secrecy and when he tried to break that, it killed him. Either he didn't know what would happen or he didn't believe it," Lashan says, just managing to hold back something to the effect of it's pretentious of him but Heshain has people call him 'the wizard' for a reason. The boy's view of how the world works obviously doesn't include magic, but if she just refuses to answer he'll see that, too. "You notice how sour he smells now? Break a blood-oath and your blood either goes acidic or hot."
Usually hot, in stories told on the Plains, probably because explosions or flames or at least steam are more graphic.
Looking at the boat and the ground around it, it appears that something heavy was loaded onto a cart and hauled away recently enough that the mud at the bottom of the wheel gouges is still dark. Out past Safflower there are human shouts and the voices of upset horses, metal jingling on metal, and the creaking of wood and wheels. And the hoarse, huffing voice of a different animal, protesting.
Putting arrow to string again, Lashan peels her lips back from her teeth in a grimace and calls for the horse to come away. Behind Safflower, several plate-armored men, some on the backs of sweating horses, become visible. They're using hooked poles attached to the chains and cuffs on a shaggy, ambling mass to steer it, yelling as it tries to change course or swipe at them.
It's a lean, unhealthy-looking bear, but a bear with dark, irregular growths emerging from the fur of its face and head and neck and back like twisted oddly-placed horns and spikes. Talismans flutter from cords attached to some of them, talismans the men and horses also wear. Normally, a bear prefers to avoid people and attacks if startled by someone or defending cubs or hungry. Normally.
Lashan shoots, not the bear or the men, but one of the horses in front. Already upset, it bucks its rider off and bolts, prompting the other horses to jerk and shrill out as the men struggle to keep the beast on course, a task that she makes harder for them by hitting another horse in its unarmored shoulder. The bear doesn't seem to be able to outright attack them but no one wants to be close to it. The men are no longer advancing forwards.
"Boy," she tells Guts, "The smart thing to do would be to get ahorse and run. I'm not equipped for bear." She'd want a different bow, different arrows, spears, several more people. And Lashan thinks the men prodding the bear aren't going to join in when they finally get it to charge, but she doesn't know.
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Usually hot, in stories told on the Plains, probably because explosions or flames or at least steam are more graphic.
Looking at the boat and the ground around it, it appears that something heavy was loaded onto a cart and hauled away recently enough that the mud at the bottom of the wheel gouges is still dark. Out past Safflower there are human shouts and the voices of upset horses, metal jingling on metal, and the creaking of wood and wheels. And the hoarse, huffing voice of a different animal, protesting.
Putting arrow to string again, Lashan peels her lips back from her teeth in a grimace and calls for the horse to come away. Behind Safflower, several plate-armored men, some on the backs of sweating horses, become visible. They're using hooked poles attached to the chains and cuffs on a shaggy, ambling mass to steer it, yelling as it tries to change course or swipe at them.
It's a lean, unhealthy-looking bear, but a bear with dark, irregular growths emerging from the fur of its face and head and neck and back like twisted oddly-placed horns and spikes. Talismans flutter from cords attached to some of them, talismans the men and horses also wear. Normally, a bear prefers to avoid people and attacks if startled by someone or defending cubs or hungry. Normally.
Lashan shoots, not the bear or the men, but one of the horses in front. Already upset, it bucks its rider off and bolts, prompting the other horses to jerk and shrill out as the men struggle to keep the beast on course, a task that she makes harder for them by hitting another horse in its unarmored shoulder. The bear doesn't seem to be able to outright attack them but no one wants to be close to it. The men are no longer advancing forwards.
"Boy," she tells Guts, "The smart thing to do would be to get ahorse and run. I'm not equipped for bear." She'd want a different bow, different arrows, spears, several more people. And Lashan thinks the men prodding the bear aren't going to join in when they finally get it to charge, but she doesn't know.