Part 12 (1/2)
Anger spiked through her. ”Since when does the Octagon give up?”
Growling like a baited bear, he stood and unsheathed his great sword, a flash of sapphire-blue steel. ”What would you have me do?” He brandished his sword at the heavens. ”Tilt at the ravens?”
”Steel is not the only way to fight.” A cold anger seeped into her. ”I can't carry them by myself.”
He stared at her, as if slapped from a trance. ”You're right. I just...” He shook his head. ”When none of you woke, it seemed hopeless.” He sheathed his sword. ”What can I do?”
She nodded, relieved to have him back. ”We'll build a pair of travois. We've got a windfall of supplies,” she gestured to the battlefield. ”Two spears can serve as the shafts, with blankets fastened between them. And tack from the horses can serve as a harness to ease the weight.”
Blaine nodded, ”I'll gather the supplies.” He strode towards the battlefield, her swordmaster and her friend.
Kath unclenched her fist, staring at the Duncan's warrior's ring. She missed him, yet he was barely gone. Sighing, she clutched the ring. Her hair had always been too fine to hold a ring, so she cut a leather strip from a saddlebag, threaded it through and tied it in a loop, placing it around her neck. Tucking the ring under her tunic, she let it fall between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and then pressed it to her heart, praying they both survived.
Dark wings fluttered close. A raven settled on her discarded blanket. Its dark eye stared up at her. ”Caw! Caw!”
She aimed a kick at the raven, angry at the bird's betrayal. The bird squawked and fluttered to the nearest horse bloated with death.
Pale morning light revealed a horror of corpses. Ravens squawked among the dead, a feeding frenzy of dark wings. Kath walked in the opposite direction from Blaine. Squatting behind a dead horse, she winced at the stabbing pain her thigh. Cursing the h.e.l.lhounds, she made a quick toilet.
The amber pyramid called to her, a tug at the back of her mind. The compulsion pulled her through the maze of corpses. More than forty horses lay strewn across the field yet she knew the right one. Squatting, she tried the mouth but rigor had set in. The dead did not give up their secrets easily. She drew her dagger and tried prying the teeth apart, but death's bite was too strong. Anxious to regain the pyramid, she cut into the horse's jaw, a grisly task. Three cuts later and the corpse relinquished the hidden treasure. The amber pyramid nestled in her palm, a hope and a threat.
Returning to the fire, she used a full water skin desperate to wash away the stench. Kath wasn't hungry, but she forced down a fistful of dried meat. She tried to wake Danya, but the brown-haired girl remained pale and insensate. Her magic had saved them, but now it seemed she paid a steep price. Kath gripped her sword hilt in frustration; realizing magic was both a boon and a curse.
Blaine returned, dropping an armload of pilfered gear by the fire. ”I tested the spears. These four seem st.u.r.dy enough.”
Feeling the need to be away, they worked quickly. Laying the spears on the ground, they stretched blankets between them. Using a knife as an auger, they lashed the blankets to the spears with strips of leather. Kath doubled the knots while Blaine fas.h.i.+oned a harness from bits of tack.
A winged shadow pa.s.sed overhead. A raven landed on the travois, dark eyes inspecting her work. Kath swiped at the bird, a squawk of feathers, wis.h.i.+ng she could scare the whole murder away. ”Time is running out.”
Blaine's face tensed. ”I know.”
They made a last check of the bindings and then set the first travois next to Danya. s.h.i.+fting the wolf-girl, Kath winced at the sharp pain lancing her thigh.
”Are you hurt?”
She shrugged. ”The cursed h.e.l.lhound clawed my leg.”
Blaine stared at the torn strips of blanket wrapping her thigh. ”Should I check that?”
”No time.”
They s.h.i.+fted the monk onto the second travois and covered him with a blanket. Zith moaned, a sheen of sweat coating his forehead, but he did not wake. Kath hoped he survived. She wove a length of rope around his chest and under his arms, securing him to the travois while Blaine did the same for Danya.
A low growl came from behind. Kath whirled, unsheathing her sword but it was only Bryx. The wolf loped from the tall gra.s.s, snapping and snarling at the ravens.
Blaine said, ”He doesn't like the ravens.”
”He's not the only one.” She s.h.i.+vered, feeling the need to be away.
”We still need supplies.”
”And I can't leave without my axes.” She found her leather harness lying next to her s.h.i.+rt of chainmail, a puddle of steel links gleaming in the sunlight. The chainmail had saved her life more than once. She was reluctant to leave it but she couldn't afford the weight. Her octagonal s.h.i.+eld would have to be left behind as well, another loss.
Shrugging the leather harness over her shoulders, Kath hurried in search of her axes. Retracing the battle, she eventually found the soldier felled by her throw. He'd seemed a towering brute, but now he was only a crumpled corpse, diminished by death, food for ravens. She whispered a prayer to Valin, knowing how close they'd come to death. Wiping her blades on the dead man's cloak, she returned to the campfire.
Blaine had loaded the monk's travois with supplies, but Danya's remained unburdened. He gave her a wary look, as if he expecting a rebuke, but Kath did not complain. Stepping between the shafts, she settled the leather harness across her shoulders and lifted. The weight seemed bearable, but the day was young.
She scanned the horizon for a gleam of black armor, but there was none...yet. She prayed to Valin for time to escape.
Blaine lifted the monk's travois. ”Which way?”
The question surprised her. ”Into the north.”
He stared at her, as if considering her reply. For a moment, she thought he would argue, but then he shrugged. ”You don't give up, do you?”
”We won a battle, not the war.”
”Did we win? This doesn't feel like victory.”
”We're alive. They're not.”
He gave her a half-smile. ”Live to fight another day.”
”Just so.”
The wolf chuffed, disappearing into the gra.s.s.
”The wolf has the truth of it. We best be away.”
Blaine took the lead, breaking a trail into the north. Kath leaned into the harness, taking up her friend's weight. She lurched forward, the wound in her thigh screaming with agony. Ignoring the pain, she focused on taking one step at a time, trying to keep pace with the blond-haired knight.
Ravens circled overhead, like an omen of doom. Cursing the birds, she struggled against the traces, desperate to be away. Ten steps became twenty, a test of strength, a test of endurance. Lowering her head, she trudged forward, full of sympathy for beasts of burden. Fifty steps became sixty, a monotony of pain. She glanced back, dismayed to find the pillar of ravens alarmingly close, a beacon for the Mordant's soldiers. Staring up at the sky, she dared the G.o.ds to help, but there was no reply.
Kath chose a spot on the horizon, determined to reach it without stopping. She leaned into the traces, taking one step at a time, straining to gain some distance on the ravens.
Morning bled into late afternoon, a long haze of torment. Drenched in sweat, Kath struggled against the weight, pain ripping across her back and down her arms. Every step was a victory...or a testament to torture. Right foot and then the left, an endless shuffle forward. Pain lanced through her thigh and across her shoulders. Her left hand was rubbed raw, a ma.s.s of welts, yet she refused to loosen her grip. Sweat trickled down her face despite the chill wind. She licked her lips, a crust of salt, and kept moving.
Caught in a fog of hurt, she lost count of the number of steps. Too tired to think, she looked past Blaine, her stare fixed on the north, a golden line of gra.s.s that never seemed end, another trick of the steppes.
The blond knight forged ahead, breaking a trail through the gra.s.s, the poles of his travois marking a path. He turned now and then to offer encouragement, waiting for her to catch up. ”Let's rest for a bit.”
”No, keep going.” Shame flooded through her. ”If I stop, I may not start again.”
”You need to rest.”
She shook her head. ”We're not far enough.”