Part 10 (1/2)
”No.” She closed her eyes, remembering the gore of the battlefield. ”Not after today.”
”Tea then.” He crushed leaves into two mugs, lifted a kettle from the fire and poured, releasing a billow of steam.
She struggled to sit up, wrapping her hands around the mug, grateful for the warmth and the soothing taste. They sipped in silence, sitting inches apart, heavy with thought. The truth of the day hit hard. ”We should have died today.”
”Yes.”
In her mind's eye, she saw warhorses running amok, trampling bodies beneath ironshod hooves. ”Their horses became demons, death on four legs.”
He nodded, his voice a whisper. ”The power of a Beastmaster revealed.”
A s.h.i.+ver raced down her spine. She glanced over at Danya but the wolf-girl lay still as death. Kath shook her head, her words a whisper. ”They fought like something possessed.” Images of the battlefield clashed in her mind. ”They didn't just kill, they destroyed.” Shuddering, she made the hand sign against evil. ”Little wonder Beastmasters are so feared.”
”She saved us all.”
Kath stared across the fire at Danya's pale face. ”Just so”
”And now we have to protect her.”
Something in his voice caught at her heart, a warning she did not want to hear. ”What do you mean?”
”There were survivors. Some of the soldiers ran.”
She nodded, afraid to follow his logic.
”They must be hunted down and killed.” He raised a hand forestalling her argument. ”Tales of this battle can never reach the Mordant.” He lowered his voice. ”Five stood against a hundred. It is the stuff of legends.”
She s.h.i.+vered, feeling the touch of the G.o.ds.
”The Mordant is sure to see the magic behind the defeat.” Duncan leaned toward her, his voice a whisper. ”What will the Mordant do to claim such a power?”
Her mind balked at the question.
”If word reaches the Mordant, all the might of the north will be arrayed against a small band of five.”
Her heart thundered. ”I'll go with you. We'll hunt them together.”
”My Lioness.” He gave her a slow smile. ”Your courage is without measure but with a wounded leg you will never keep up. And besides, the others will need you.” Firelight danced on his face, his golden cat-eye glowing in the dark, his difference and his strength. ”This task is mine.” He leaned toward her, his voice soft. ”You know I am the one to do this.”
The fire snapped, a spray of sparks. ”I don't want to lose you.”
”You will never lose me.” His hand cupped her face. ”My wife.”
She leaned into his touch. ”Promise?”
Fingers brushed her lips as if to seal the words. ”Promise.”
His hand withdrew and she felt bereft.
Duncan stared at her. ”What will you do tomorrow? Will you go north or south?”
Kath rocked back, ambushed by the question. She hadn't thought beyond surviving the day. ”I don't know.”
”You have to decide. I need to know how to find you.”
She tried to concentrate, pus.h.i.+ng past the weariness of battle. ”It seems hopeless to go north.” She shook her head. ”Yet to go south is to give up, to admit to defeat, when the whole of Erdhe is at stake.” She stared at his mismatched eyes, looking for answers. ”We've come too far to give up.” It was as much a statement as a question.
He nodded. ”Then you'll go north.”
The surety of his words convinced her. ”Into the north.” She nodded. ”And the G.o.ds will just have to help.”
He smiled. ”My Lioness.”
She swayed, suddenly dizzy, as if the decision had robbed the last of her strength.
”But now you should sleep.” He helped her into her bedroll, tucking the blanket around her shoulders, his hands gentle. And then he surprised her, lying next to her, pulling her close. She nestled against him, her head on his shoulder, surrounded by warmth and the smell of leather. ”I don't want you to go.”
”I know.” He brushed a wisp of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.
She pressed her face against his chest, wanting the night to last forever, but she had to ask. ”When will you leave?”
”Before the dawn. The night is my ally.”
The truth was cruel, a sword at her heart. She sighed and held him close, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, wanting the moon to stop its trek across the sky. But her own body betrayed her. Weariness claimed her, stealing the night. Exhausted, she fell into a dreamless sleep.
10.
Duncan An eerie stillness filled the night, as if the spirits of the slain hovered close. Plagued by worries, Duncan eased from the bedroll, careful not to wake Kath. He tucked the blanket around her shoulders, relieved that she slept. The other companions lay still as death, felled by exhaustion. Stretching, Duncan shrugged off his own weariness, knowing the battle could still be lost. He reached for his longbow, hung a full quiver on his belt and strode towards the killing field.
Clouds hid the moon, a pale smudge in the midnight sky, but there was more than enough light for his golden eye. He walked among the dead, reading the signs. Faces stared up at him, frozen in masks of horror. Horses lay twisted and broken, impaled on spears. Mangled bodies littered the gra.s.sland, torn apart and trampled to a sea of gore. He shook his head at the carnage. So many dead, a hundred defeated by five, a slaughter written in blood, yet all the dead wore the same armor, bore the same foul symbol. The truth was easy to read, too easy. The battlefield screamed of magic, a truth that could d.a.m.n them all. Urgency gnawed at his mind; the survivors needed to be hunted down and killed, stopping the tale before it spread. He s.h.i.+vered feeling the hand of fate, knowing this was his task.
A shadow in dark leathers, he prowled the killing field, reading the fall of trampled gra.s.ses. Sorting a confusion of footprints, and telltale signs of blood, Duncan searched for his prey. The first trail was easy to spot, three men cutting a fresh swath through the gra.s.ses, fleeing northwest, at least one of them wounded. They ran in a wild panic, flailing through the waist-high gra.s.s, leaving a trail a blind man could follow. But the second trail was more subtle, obscured by hoof prints, a hint of blood giving it away. Crouching low, Duncan studied the signs. The second group was smart, retracing the trampled path of the charging horses. An occasional boot mark imprinted the hoof prints, proving men on foot traveled north instead of south. The cavalcade of iron-shod hooves made the trail hard to detect and harder still to read but Duncan persisted.
Needing to know their numbers, he loped along the trampled gra.s.s, crouching now and then to check for signs, looking for differences in the boot prints. He backtracked twice to make sure, cursing the answer written in the ground. Six perhaps seven men traveled north at a jog. Two groups fled the battlefield...heading in two different directions. The task would be harder than he thought, but there was no one else to do it.
Needing supplies, he returned to the others. The campfire still blazed, a beacon in the night. The wolf chuffed a greeting, green eyes glowing in the firelight, and then settled next to Danya. Duncan nodded, grateful for the wolf's vigilance.
The others slept, exhausted from the fight. He crossed to the far side of the campfire, drawn to Kath like iron to a lodestone. Standing over her, he stared down. Exhaustion etched her face. Even asleep she looked determined. She'd fought like a lioness despite her wounded thigh, doing her best to save them all...and now it was his turn to do the saving.
She sighed and turned, caught in a dream, a lock of blond hair falling across her face, her right hand reaching beyond the blanket.
He fought the temptation to tuck the wayward hair behind her ear and take her in his arms, knowing she needed every moment of sleep. A sense of urgency pulled him away.
Knowing time was against him, he quickly gathered a few supplies, a water skin, a flint, and a small pouch of dried meat. He checked the water skin to make sure it was full, with two groups to track down; the task would take longer than he'd like. Determined to travel light, he left his bedroll and his saddlebags, keeping stealth and speed as two of his greatest weapons. A second knife slid into his belt and then he checked to make sure he had a spare string for his longbow. Slinging the water skin over his shoulder, he strode to the edge of the firelight and then paused.