There was a wet thunk, and the man carrying Ife choked out a gasp, spasmed, and fell. Ife fell with him, tumbling to the ground and landing with him heavy atop her. With a cry of fear, she struggled beneath him and shoved hard at him, prepared for a struggle--but his head lolled from her jostling, and when she finally had the courage to look at him, she saw that his eyes were wide open and glassy, staring at nothing, and his mouth was trickling blood.
Dead.
It was the first dead body Ife had ever seen--at least, from violent death, not like the peaceful passing away of her grandfather--and she couldn't help it. That plus everything going on around her was too much! She let out a shriek and struggled out from under him, then scrambled to her feet--
And froze.
Chaos had unfolded all around her, fire arcing through the air, and Ife saw the dragon then--there, on the ground, larger than life and knocking several raiders to the ground as a tall man knocked more silly with his halberd. So the dragon did have a rider! Ife didn't dare to move as she watched, eyes huge and mouth open in awe, hands against her chest over her racing heart. It was amazing watching those two, dragon and warrior, but Ife darted nervous looks around herself, looking for an escape route, because she felt rather exposed out there in the thick of things, and with raiders still about! Raiders...who were running.
And who wouldn't when up against a dragon?
Definitely not Ife!
Gathering up her skirts, she turned and bolted, back to the wagon and hopefully out of the war-zone, and she had just reached it when she heard gasps and the familiar snarl of the raiders' captain. She crouched down beside the wagon and turned to look.
Her breath caught.
She knew that little girl. Not well, but she'd talked to her on the trip and had made her a special sweet a few days earlier when she'd cried herself awake from a nightmare, just a little something to give her happy dreams. Gods, she would need all the happy dreams she could get after this--if she came out of it okay. Ife's eyes locked onto the dragon-rider, then moved back to the captain and his hostage, both of them motionless, both at a stalemate.
The little girl's life hung in the balance. Anything could tip the scale toward life or death.
Around Ife, the other travelers were silent, save for the sobs of the girl's mother. No one dared to move, no one dared tempt that scale.
Shifting nervously where she crouched, Ife put a hand on the ground to help balance herself--and grimaced when instead of soft grass, her fingers squished into something soft and gooey. She looked down, and blinked in surprise. It was...
A pastry.
A cherry tart, she'd smashed her fingers right into some of that cherry topping. More pastries were strewn about on the ground, their crate broken not far from them, knocked out of the wagon or thrown out as the raiders searched the wagon for goods. Ife stared at the red on her fingers, at first finding it strangely absurd, all things considered, but then a thought struck her. Equally absurd, but maybe not?
The captain wasn't looking at her.
His back was turned to her at a three-quarter view, and his attention was fully on the dragon-rider.
Maybe...?
The young girl cried out as the captain dragged her backward a few steps, the knife still pressed to her throat as he began a slow retreat. The dragon-rider was there, halberd at the ready.
Maybe she could tip the scale in the right direction?
Grabbing the pastry, Ife acted before she could lose her nerve. She chucked the thing at the captain's head with all her might, and held her breath as it arced through the air--
And landed with a wet plop on the back of his head, where it stuck, cherry goo suctioning to his hair. The captain startled and made a stupid mistake.
He turned his head to look.