Every squad provided one person for a salvaging detail. Pendar sent Quinn, while Raven was given the first two-hour watch. The rest made pallets of straw and blankets on the hard-packed dirt floor while Corporal Pendar built the fire.
It was full dark before Quinn returned with arms laden with vegetables, bread and a joint of meat. It looked like plenty of food to Tane, until he was told it was both dinner and breakfast.
They all sat around the fire watching the corporal prepare a meat and vegetable soup. The aroma emanating from that black cast iron pot sang to Tane, making his mouth water after a long day on forced march. Pendar declared their meal ready none too soon.
Corporal Pendar carefully rationed it out, to ensure they all had a hearty breakfast come morning. He then surprised Tane by relieving Raven on watch so she could eat before he had anything.
“Shining Gods, I haven’t been this tired and hungry since I was being trained as a Silk Slave!” Raven declared, wolfing down her meager fare.
Tane blanched. He had thankfully forgotten about her terrible ordeal. The others hadn’t known, for they all stopped eating to stare incredulously at her. Raven didn’t seem to notice.
“This is delicious! Who cooked it?” Raven said, thankfully shattering Tane’s train of thought.
“Corporal Pendar,” Tane said.
“Really?” she said, eyes sparkling with mischief. Turning to the door, she shouted, “Hey, Corporal Pendar! Will you marry me? Come on, man, don’t deny me. You stole my heart with this dinner, and you know it, you scheming rogue you.”
Everyone chuckled. Tane felt some of the oppressive weight resting on his soul lighten. Raven winked at him as she stealthily scooted closer to Quinn. The half-elf was lost in his own world, as usual, mostly just staring at his food. Raven was hip to hip with him before he realized she was there. Everyone, save Quinn, burst out laughing when she kissed him on the cheek.
“By the Sweet Mother! Why did you do that?!” he cried, leaping to his feet.
“He’s shy!” Raven cried, delighted with what she’d wrought. “Gods, I love shy men. They’re so sexy and desirable. Makes me want to have their babies.”
“Don’t talk like that! You know it would never work between us,” he said, red-faced.
“Then you’ve considered it!” she cried, leaping to her feet. “I knew you cared! Kiss me.”
“Raven,” Corporal Pendar called from the door, grinning as well. “If you’re terrorizing Quinn, then you’re finished eating and can take your post again.”
Shaking her head woefully, Raven started for the door, saying, “I’m sorry, my love, but duty calls. I hate it, but I did swear an oath to serve the king.” She suddenly paused in the door, slanting a provocative look at Quinn. “But you know where I’m sleeping. Come see me when your watch is over. We’ll keep everyone awake for an hour or two.”
Quinn’s eyes went wide and his face burned red. The others laughed at him and returned to their meals. He stared at the empty door.
Corporal Pendar served himself and left the rest of the soup in the hut’s cast iron cauldron. He placed the cauldron near the fire to keep it warm, and then started into his own plate with the same gusto Raven had shown. Quinn began pacing the hut, casting worried looks at the door every so often. Armin finished his food and started honing his sword while Joelle returned to her casting of the bones.
“How do the bones look?” Corporal Pendar said.
“Nothing conclusive,” she said, agitated. “They don’t say we’ll win or lose, just that there is terrible danger.”
“At least we know they aren’t lying to us,” Tane said, getting an unintended laugh from the group.
Armin chuckled. “The bones never lie, friend. They are never clear in their message, either. But if you can discern what they say, you can move to make the opposite happen.”
“Fate isn’t written in stone,” Joelle said, and cast the bones again.
Finishing his meal, Corporal Pendar stretched and yawned, saying, “I suggest you all bed down now. It’ll probably be one of the longest and hardest days of your lives tomorrow. Armin has second watch, followed by Quinn, Tane and then Joelle. I want to be awakened at the same time as Joelle so I can go get our marching orders before we eat.”
Tane, who was sitting on his pallet, nodded and laid down. Though it was cooling quickly outside, inside the hut it was comfortably warm. He let the crackling of the fire lull him into sleep as the others found their own beds.
Chapter 22
Nizar stumbled through the forest, skirting the dark village surrounded by wary soldiers. He bit back a curse as pine needles jabbed at his eyes. Glowering at the torchlit village that had forced him to leave the relative comfort and safety of the road, he vowed they would all pay dearly.
But Nizar had more important considerations, so gingerly picked his way through the thick stand of young conifers. With the untimely arrival of Dakar’s army, he had lost track of Tane’s whereabouts. If he wasn’t careful, he would lose more than just the swordsmith. He could lose his God’s divine, and quite generous, gratitude.
Dakar wants the swordsmith, he thought, so He’ll get him. One way or another. Then he recalled High Priest Mogens. But I’ll kill the smith with my own hands before I allow that opportunistic Thanir cur to capture him and gain Dakar’s favor.
Pausing to rest a moment, Nizar glanced up at the heavens with murderous intensity. Surely his misfortune was the work of the Arisen. They had been against him since before he was born. Taliope had slapped him down too many times for him not to recognize Her hand in it now. He idly wondered if maybe, somehow, High Priest Mogens was secretly conspiring with Them to bring about Nizar’s downfall. Perhaps Mogens was an Arisen spy. Or a traitor.
Nizar smiled at the thought.
Perhaps, if Mogens gets in my way, I can innocently wonder aloud at his motives. My Divine Master will surely be suspicious, he thought, his black eyes glinting in the scant light. I’m sure Dakar has ways of learning the truth from traitors. Very nasty methods, too.
It was well past midnight when Nizar heard the first sign of Dakar’s army. Zombies weren’t subtle in anything, so made enough noise as they patrolled the night forest to alert even a city-born Qakaran like Nizar of their presence.
A spoken prayer alerted the zombies of his presence, and gained him unimpeded passage through their ranks. Soon enough he emerged from the night forest to find a pavilion erected in the middle of a fallow field. Armed men with alert eyes surrounded it.
Nizar bristled when one of the mercenaries challenged him. His tone, and words, were clear threats of deadly violence at the least provocation. With growing impatience, Nizar admitted he didn’t know the password and waited for another priest to come identify him.
“Welcome, Brother Nizar,” High Priest Mogens called as he entered. It was hot and stuffy within the pavilion, with a thick cloud of smoke blanketing the ceiling. A dozen suckling pigs were spitted over a centrally located fire, the aroma making Nizar’s mouth water. “I see you didn’t bring the swordsmith, or his head, so I assume that means you failed.”
Everyone grew quiet as all eyes turned to Nizar. Despite Mogens’ long face, Nizar saw a gleam of good humor in the High Priest’s eyes.
“Not so, Your Grace,” Nizar said. “I was poised to capture the fiend this very night, but your arrival brought the Kestsaxian army out to fight you. And Tane Kyleson is a soldier within its ranks.”
Several priests sucked in their breath at Nizar’s ill-concealed charge. For a moment Nizar thought he had gone too far. His frustration was making him reckless. Now that he thought of it, he was sure Mogens and the others wouldn’t be here if Dakar hadn’t ordered it.
“Then we still have a chance to capture him,” High Priest Mogens mused, idly tugging at his left mustache. The suddenly crafty look in his eyes warned Nizar to caution. “You know where he is? Right this moment?”
Nizar smiled tightly as the tension in the pavilion eased. How
much did he dare confide? High Priest Mogens understood the importance of the swordsmith far more than anyone save Dakar Himself. He had no doubt Mogens wanted their God’s favor for himself, as well.
Over my dead body, Nizar thought.
Aloud, and humbly as well, Nizar said, “I don’t know his exact location, Your Grace. But I know which road his unit took, so I know roughly where to find him when the battle commences.”
“Excellent. I will personally inform our Divine Master of the fine service you performed for Him,” Mogens said. Then waving a hand at a map spread out upon a side table, “So...tell me, where exactly will this swordsmith turned soldier be deployed?”
Nizar studied the map a moment. Kestsax was marked as a red circle, with all the roads leading out of the city drawn in remarkable detail. Strange lines and markings that Nizar didn’t understand, but understood to be military symbols for certain types of military units, were marked in two colors. The black lines were clearly Dakar’s forces, while the red lines seemed to be from a dozen kingdoms and cities scattered across a wide front.
Tane had been garrisoned just inside the eastern-most city gate, so must have left by it. Nizar hadn’t been there to watch, not expecting Dakar’s host for another day or so. He had been busy starting an altar site to Dakar in the basement of the Forest Haven Inn, with the newly enslaved innkeep and family ordered to hide and safeguard it. Within that sanctum, Nizar could’ve held the swordsmith hidden from even the Arisen and their priests until the city fell.
But thanks to Mogens’ quick progress from Treversax, Nizar’s well-laid plans were all in ashes. There was no doubt in his mind that Mogens was eager to deprive him of all credit and rewards. Nizar couldn’t allow that to happen.
Pointing to two roads leading south out of Kestsax, Nizar said, “All of the Kestsaxians are marching down these two roads. Tane Kyleson’s unit is coming down the western-most road.”
High Priest Mogens studied the map a long moment.
“Then we will be ready for him,” Mogens said. “And it is fortuitous for us that you arrived when you did, for Sister Alexa failed our Divine Master this afternoon. She was sacrificed at sundown.”
“I don’t understand,” Nizar said.
Giving him a fatherly smile, all full of feigned pleasure, “I am giving you the honor of her command, Brother Nizar.”
Keeping his face impassive, he said, “You honor me, Your Grace. And just where is my new command deployed?”
“Why, I do believe it is the extreme eastern flank, if I’m not mistaking,” High Priest Mogens said, glancing about the map as if the thought hadn’t occurred to him. “Why yes, so it is. An honor, I think you’ll agree, to be given so important a command.”
Nizar bowed low, fearful the wily old brigand turned priest would spy out his pleasure, saying, “I am unworthy, Your Grace, but thank you.”
Chapter 23
Soul-numbing oppression swept over Tane as he beheld the God. Huge and reeking of menace, the dark, horned deity towered over him and his friends. Joelle chanted behind him, her hands glowing with magical energy, while Armin stood guard beside her. Quinn and Raven stood to either side and shoulder to shoulder with Tane, both growling low in their throats at the hideous monster of a God menacing them.
“Serve me, Tane, as you would those pathetic cowards your kind chose over the True Gods,” He demanded, voice rumbling like distant thunder. “Serve me willingly, or you and your friends will die.”
“Never!” Tane cried, tightening his grip on Bearclaw. “I will not betray Kamain for you, Old One!”
“Well said, Tane!” Raven said, leaping forward to skewer the dark God.
But even Raven’s lightning reflexes proved inadequate. The God’s massive, taloned hand leaped out and seized the Tyrian by the throat. She kicked, cursed and clawed, but to no avail.
“Serve me! Swear it!” He demanded of Tane, lifting Raven up like a trophy.
“No!”
His hand tightened, oh so slowly. Raven’s struggles became frantic, then suddenly she tensed wide-eyed when a sickening snap echoed through the chamber. Tane and Quinn screamed murderously as she went limp in the God’s hand.
A gray-robed priest suddenly seized Tane’s shoulder with a skeletal hand, jerking him around. He grabbed the hand and twisted, trying to break the foul man’s hold. A very feminine shriek met his efforts, then a hard slap across the face.
Tane woke to find Raven cradling her hand and glaring at him in the dark.
Joelle was against the back wall, a glowing silvery-white bow in her hand.
Where did that come from?
“What’s the matter?” Quinn said, ducking into the hut.
“The bastard almost broke my wrist when I woke him from his nightmare,” Raven said.
“I-I’m sorry,” Tane said, shame-faced. “It won’t happen again.”
“Bloody damn right it won’t! Next time I hear you moaning and thrashing about in your sleep, I’ll mind my own bloody business,” Raven said.
Joelle and Armin relaxed. The bow in the witch’s hand vanished, appearing to be sucked into the wide silver ring encircling her middle left finger. A matching ring was on her right hand.
“Go back to sleep,” Corporal Pendar said.
“I’m sorry, Raven,” Tane whispered as she settled back into her blankets. “It’s good to know you aren’t really dead.”
She sat straight up, staring at him in shock and fear.
Chuckling, Quinn said, “That’s the first time I think I’ve seen her so alarmed about anything. Teach me how to do that, Tane.”
“You’re not as funny as you think, Quinn,” she said, laying back down and turning her back on them.
When Tane started to lie back down, Quinn stopped him.
“It’s almost time for your watch, my friend,” Quinn said. Tane was shocked, for it was the first time the half-elf had called any one of them friend. “I’ll wait for you outside. Dress warm, for a cold wind is blowing in from the south.”
Tane nodded and started pulling on his boots. They were all sleeping in their tunic and trousers, in case they were attacked during the night. Halfway through tying the second boot, he realized what Quinn had said. How could he dress warmly? He only had the clothes on his back. Then he spotted the pile of cloaks by the door.
“At least the supply sergeant isn’t completely incompetent,” he muttered as he picked one out and threw it across his shoulders.
Ducking through the waist-high door, he was slapped full in the face by frigid wind. Quinn was kneeling over a small fire shielded by their hut. Tane could see each hut had its own guard and small fire on the downwind side. The sky overhead was a starless charcoal gray. A brisk wind was whipping the treetops about, and dropping down often enough to make life miserable for the men and women on guard.
“Things seem to be going our way,” Tane said as he knelt beside Quinn. “Nothing like a cold autumn storm to fight in.”
Quinn slanted him a bemused look that reminded him of Raven in its eloquence, which reminded him of his nightmare. He shivered.
“I take the watch,” Tane said.
“I stand relieved,” Quinn said, but made no move to leave. He stared into the flames a moment longer before saying, “Tell me, Tane, was it the same nightmare?”
“No. It was worse.”
“Good. Raven and Joelle agree that having the same nightmare is prophetic. Since it is a different nightmare, there isn’t anything to fear.”
Icy fingers tickled Tane’s spine, and took a firm hold of his heart. No one had said anything about his nightmares being prophetic before, though both Raven and Joelle had seemed concerned by the fact they were all the same. And in truth, it really wasn’t a different nightmare, but at a different point in time than the previous ones.
“Are you all right, Tane,” Quinn said.
“Yes. Why?”
“You’re sweating, that’s why,” Quinn said. “And you look ill.”
“I wasn’t entirely truthful about my nightmare. It is the same nightmare, but further along in time,” he said. Very quickly, Tane described the dream. “So you see, if it is prophesy, then Raven will die and maybe the rest of us as well.”
Quinn was ashen-faced. “Raven dead?”
“And the rest of us, too, I think.”
Quinn stared into the flames with a haunted look, absently rubbing the stubble on his face. Tane felt just as gloomy, wishing he hadn’t burdened the half-elf with his dream. Not knowing would probably be better. And there wasn’t anything to prove his nightmares were prophecy.
“Very disturbing,” Quinn said at length. “I suggest you take Joelle aside and tell her what you told me. It might be best not to tell Raven of your prophecy.”
“It’s just a nightmare, not a prophecy,” Tane protested.
“Let Joelle decide that,” he said, standing. “I better bed down now. I’ve been in enough battles to know the benefit of starting out well-rested.”
“Pleasant dreams,” Tane said.
Chapter 24
Morning came early. The dim light showed them the cloudbank hadn’t stopped for the night, and stood towering over them. Everyone, save Raven, looked as grim as the morning sky.
“You’re not going to eat all your food, lover?” Raven asked Quinn, her plate already cleaned even before Tane could be served.
“Keep your greedy Ashtarite eyes off my food,” Quinn said, starting to shovel the soup down. “And don’t call me ‘lover.’”
Raven looked stricken. “Is that any way to treat a woman about to meet her doom?”
Quinn, Tane, and Joelle froze in place. Tane had shared Quinn’s concerns about his latest nightmare with Joelle when he woke her for last watch. She had agreed that it might be prophetic, but only time would tell. But she disagreed with Quinn concerning telling Raven. She claimed that knowledge of one’s fate helped to avoid it. But Tane hadn’t had a chance to tell Raven what he had dreamed.
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