Another rider wheels to the side while a third comes straight on. I draw a knife as the archer coming toward me attempts to switch back to his sword.
Six to one is much better odds, especially when four of the riders are hanging back, as though they hadn’t considered that they could get hurt, too.
“Ferocious enough for you?” I shout at them.
The silver-eyed rider comes at me, and I throw my knife. It misses him but hits the horse in the flank. The animal rears up. But as he tries to get his mount back under control, another barrels toward me. I grab for the axe, take a deep breath, and focus.
The skeletal horse watches me with its pupil-less white eyes. It looks hungry.
If I die here in the woods because I wasn’t better prepared, because I was too distracted to bother to strap on my o
