Blade touched a bruise on her cheek just below one ear, then tapped the rifle and shook his head. Riyannah shook her head even more violently, pantomimed raising a rifle and firing it, then held up two fingers. The message was clear: I can handle the load, and two rifles will be better than one.
Blade smiled and rested both hands lightly on her shoulders for a moment. He would have embraced her if she hadn't been so bruised and sore. He couldn't understand a word she said, but he could understand courage and common sense without any words.
They turned and headed into the bushes. Insects were already settling on the dead men behind them.
Chapter 5
The tangle of bushes and young trees stretched for several miles. No one could have seen Blade and Riyannah from the air, or for more than twenty feet away on the ground. As for trailing them-certainly not these soldiers!
Riyannah was obviously not much more at home in the woods than the soldiers. Her feet caught in roots, snapped twigs, sometimes got tangled up enough to bring her to her knees. Somehow she always got to her feet again and kept on going. Sweat poured down her face, her hair became a sodden, tangled mess, blood trickled from thorn scratches on her hands, a stone left an ugly mark on one knee. Blade helped her whenever he could, but half the time she shook off his hands. Pride, or didn't she trust him?
Whatever was driving Riyannah, it kept her going until they'd left the underbrush behind them. A stream flowed past the fringes of the brush. They stopped and refilled their canteens, then Riyannah pointed off to the right and put a finger to her lips. Blade nodded and they moved off again, this time doing their best to move silently as well as stay under cover.