Bones and splinters went flying in all directions. Rolling away from the impact, Ehomba stared at the branch that had crushed his would-be executioner. The bleached skull was no longer intact or visible, having been pulverized by the considerable weight of falling wood. Leg and arm and rib bones lay scattered everywhere.
His friends were at his side before the dust settled. Hunkapa Aub simply lifted the herdsman bodily and set him on his feet. Feeling of the cut that had been made to his throat, Ehomba knew he would have to wear a bandage there for a few days at least. Had it gone half an inch deeper his life would be gushing out between his fingers. The falling branch had startled the envoy for barely an instant, just long enough to allow his captive to break away.
Now the bones of the murderous, spectral visitant lay strewn across the ground, dispersed and harmless.
Satisfied that their friend and guide was not seriously injured, Hunkapa Aub and the black litah returned to camp. Simna remained to inspect the shattered bough. Having fallen from somewhere halfway up the side of a truly imposing trunk, the branch was greater in diameter than many of the mature trees nearby.
“That’s what I call a lucky break,” the swordsman commented. “It doesn’t look rotten, and I see no evidence of termites or other insects having been at work, so something else must have caused it to fall.” He gazed evenly at his tall companion. “Fall just then, and just there. I don’t suppose a man who continually denies being a wizard but who can step out of his own skin would have had anything to do with that?”