Unseen (First of the Blade Book 2)
Page 18
“It does mean that. For now,” she said.
“You intend to take another quest?”
Imogen held his gaze. She could lie, but General Derashen struck her as someone who would know if she did. “I’m not certain.”
He flashed a strained smile. “Then you will serve under my command.”
Imogen felt tempted to argue with him. She wasn’t sure that she could follow his orders, certainly not with what she needed to do. She felt as if she needed to understand the branox, but she also wasn’t sure that she was going to be able to hunt the queen on her own. Having the Leier with her might provide a rare opportunity.
“For now,” she said.
The general watched her for a moment, a look in his eyes suggesting that he debated his answer. Instead he nodded, then turned and strode away.
It was within his rights to demand that she take on another bond quest, but doing so meant that either she would throw herself at an even more impossible mission, or she would serve. In this case, it seemed that General Derashen had already decided—she would serve.
She’d considered truly taking on another bond quest, but her time in Yoran and away from her people had left her wondering if she even wanted to take on another. Did such things even matter—especially as she’d come to see magic so differently than her people, to the point where she used it with the sacred patterns?
She returned to the fire and thought about taking a seat, but she didn’t want to. She wanted to keep moving, to find Benji. She decided to wander and search for him.
She made her way carefully, sweeping around the camp, looking at the arrangements. Each tent represented one of the families, and often clusters of tents represented villages. Had she stayed with the Leier and in her position, Imogen likely would’ve been in one of these camps, and possibly even leading it. For a while, she had believed that having the opportunity to serve the Leier, to work with the general, was all she really wanted, but now she wasn’t sure that she could.
Especially not with what she had seen of the Koral.
Now she was an outsider, which was a strange way to feel after having grown up here. She had wanted nothing more than to serve her people, and she’d trained with the belief that she was going to be a pivotal part of the Leier defense, but after being away for the time that she had, Imogen no longer knew how she felt. All she knew was that she had changed.
The sound of nearby murmurs filled the air around her, and they mixed with the steady, rhythmic clatter of wooden reeds smacking together as Leier sparred with one another. Perhaps somebody had issued a challenge.
There was a certain comfort in those sounds, which reminded her of the training she had gone through when she was younger, and it was almost enough to make her feel like she was back home. Surprisingly, the sound of the reeds reminded her more of her training in the sacred temple than anything else, since Master Liu had refused to allow anyone to spar with their blades.
She pushed those thoughts away as she reached the prison section near the edge of the camp. There were no tents or shelters around, nothing to block the gusts of wind that tore through this part of the mountain. The people didn’t even have a fire for warmth.
Several dozen Leier stood guard, all of them ranked Second of the Blade or higher. Not that they needed to be here. The prisoners had no weapons. Though there might be some shamans with a connection to sorcery, they wouldn’t have been able to do much anyway. Even the weakest Second had enough knowledge and skill to disrupt a sorcery pattern, and they would be able to make sure that any shaman magic would fail.
She approached carefully, resting her hand on the hilt of her blade. Imogen studied everything in front of her, taking deep, slow, and steady breaths as she did, feeling a strange presence in the air. It tingled along her skin.
She paused for a moment, focusing herself. She needed to understand.
Imogen used Tree Stands in the Forest. There weren’t many in the Leier camp who would recognize what she was doing, nor would they understand how she was doing it. But it also gave her the opportunity to try testing for something more.
And she did detect something more.
It was familiar, and it took a moment to realize why.
“Benji,” she said.
He appeared out of the darkness as little more than a shadow. The ground trembled lightly beneath him, enough for her to know she was feeling his movement.
“I was expecting you to visit before now,” he said.
“I’m trying to understand what’s going on here.”
“Lilah is now captured, when she was under our protection.”
“She’s still under our protection,” she said.
“Does that look like protection?” he asked, jabbing his thumb toward the gathered Koral.
Imogen stared at them, and though she couldn’t feel any sense of sorcery, she wondered if there was some she couldn’t detect. None of the men or women or even the children who were gathered there were shivering, despite the gusting wind.
She smiled to herself. So much for the Leier believing they understood the magic of sorcery well enough to defend against it. While they might be able to do so, they didn’t have any way of recognizing it when it wasn’t used against them.
“I think they’re fine,” Imogen said. “At least for now. Besides, being here might give Lilah a chance to learn more. From what I’ve overheard, the shamans have learned from the Society. That means they have more training than I ever realized.”
But it also meant that her people had more reason to fear them. The Koral had more magic like sorcerers.
“Or it might give her the chance to die,” Benji said.
“We will keep her safe.”
“Are you sure you can do anything to keep her safe?”
Imogen took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and shook her head. There was a time when she would’ve said yes. A time when she would have known the extent of her abilities, along with the extent of what her people might attempt. Now she no longer did. Seeing General Derashen and the others here left her thinking that perhaps she didn’t know them as well as she believed she once did.
“All I know is that I have done what I can to convince them to go after the branox.”
“You told him.”
“I thought it was best. If the things are attracted to magic, and if the soldiers are as skilled as me or even more skilled, it shouldn’t be difficult to cut down the creatures.”
Benji regarded her for a moment, then let out a laugh. “Is that what you think?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Do you really believe the others are as skilled as you?”
She shrugged. “I’m only a First of the Blade.”
“Only.”
“There are others in this camp of that rank or higher.”
“Higher in the traditional patterns, but not in what matters.”
She frowned at him. “And what matters? Do you think it’s only the sacred patterns?”
“Yes,” he said. “The sacred patterns are the only reason you’re still alive.”
She opened her mouth to object, but then she wondered if that was true. During her training in the sacred temple, she had seen how everyone revered Master Liu. Having fought him, she understood why.
And there was the simple matter that gaining the mastery found within a sacred temple and having a master instructor vouch for your skill were the only ways to acquire a notch on your blade. Either that, or defeating one of those sword masters in battle. No one tested themselves against a notched soldier, though. Challenging someone to raise your rank to First of the Blade was one thing, but testing for a notched ranking was not done lightly. Not only did failure mean humiliation, but it far more likely led to injury or even death. It was why so few had notched blades.
“What would you have me do?” she asked him.
“Protect Lilah, the way you promised.”
“I haven’t abandoned my promise.”
“They won’t be slaughtered by the branox,” she said.
“You’ve seen the creatures.”
She laughed softly and shook her head. “I remember.”
“Then you should know that your people won’t be able to withstand an attack. Not well.”
“You could help.”
Benji nodded slowly, and there was a knowing look in his eyes. “Until we find the queen, nothing else matters.”
“And if we don’t?”
“Whatever they intend—”
“You mean Timo.”
Benji regarded her for a long moment, his gaze lingering. “I cannot see. I have tried. I know you want answers, that you deserve them, but I cannot see.”
“It is him,” she said softly.
He nodded. “Perhaps. But none of this matters, other than defeating the branox queen and preventing a misuse of her power.”
There was a seriousness to his expression, one that she couldn’t quite interpret. He crouched down and traced his hands across the stone. She could almost feel something. Almost. Was he being more cautious than he normally was because they were in a place surrounded by the Leier, or was he simply being cautious for the sake of it? When he stood, he waved his hands, tracing them through the wind before nodding to himself.
Benji turned away, and he stared into the campsite where Lilah and the Koral were gathered. He crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his foot in a steady pattern, and with it came a rumble from the ground.
Imogen listened, but she couldn’t hear more than the tremble of the earth. Would any of the gathered Leier even be aware of how he used his Porapeth magic? She doubted it. The Leier weren’t trained to recognize a Porapeth.
As she looked around the camp, listening to the sound of voices and trying to decide where she would go, she realized that she didn’t have a place. General Derashen might’ve invited her to stay, or perhaps even commanded her to, but she was no longer a Leier soldier.
She was drawn instead to Benji. Even to Lilah.
What did that say about her?
Imogen tried not to answer the question, but the answer came nonetheless: she was every bit the outsider she felt.
Chapter Eighteen
They traveled for the better part of the day, climbing along a narrow path that was wide enough for two soldiers to march side by side. The trail wound through the mountains, ascending peaks before descending into smaller valleys. The Leier moved at a brisk pace, shuffling the Koral along with them.
There were no signs of the branox, which Imogen thought was for the best—until she noticed that General Derashen and his second-in-command, a man she still hadn’t identified, were watching her. At first, it was subtle, with little more than a glance in her direction, but then the general would lean over to whisper to his second-in-command.
Imogen didn’t need to have Benji’s ability to communicate with the wind to know what they were talking about. They were doubting her claims that there were creatures with power here. That they didn’t see signs of the branox meant they weren’t real.
Had she been that arrogant before she’d left the Leier? Thinking back to that time, it was easy enough to see her own arrogance, to feel it. She had believed herself to be infallible and unstoppable. Her time in the temple had changed those notions from a belief of invulnerability to one of almost fear. One where she felt like she could not be the person she had wanted to be.
Imogen shook those thoughts away. They didn’t serve her now.
She marched up the mountain with the other Firsts, staying focused on the sacred patterns and moving in a different way than those walking alongside her. There was no point in ignoring the sacred patterns, especially if their group was ambushed by the branox. She couldn’t see Benji, but she could feel him. Every so often, the ground trembled behind her, suggesting that he was only a few dozen paces away, but then it faded.
They reached another plateau late in the day. General Derashen had them quickly set up the camp, forming the rows of tents and the prison section much like it had been arranged before, and even the massive campfire where he would sit in the evening. It seemed as though the general had known that there was another place they could camp in the mountains.
Imogen found Benji later in the day. He sat on the side of the road they had followed, the narrow path leading through the mountains. He perched on a large boulder, yet none looked in his direction despite how out of place he appeared. It had to be his Porapeth abilities that made others ignore him. Either that, or they simply recognized what he was and didn’t pay any attention to him.
He looked harmless, like little more than an old man, with his balding head, sharp nose, and wrinkled brow. He rapped his knuckles on the rock, tipping his head to the side as if listening for something only he could hear.
“Do you detect anything?” she asked.
“They are moving ahead of us,” he whispered. “I can feel them enough to know that much. Go ahead and scout on your own.”
Imogen glanced up to the rocky ledge sloping up and away from the plateau that they camped on. She could make out two of the scouts patrolling. They were both high-ranking, at least Second of the Blade. They would be able to handle sorcery, but not the branox.
“He doesn’t believe me,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s telling them to patrol, but he’s not sending anybody with real potential.”
“They’re going after Koral. What do you want to do?”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she swept her gaze around. “I don’t know.”
Benji grunted. “The branox are still out there. When your people come across them, it will be a slaughter.”
Imogen shook her head. “Not a slaughter. There are many skilled sword users here.” Not only that, but with the general and his nine notches, along with the second-in-command, she suspected that they would be able to withstand the branox attack far better than Benji believed.
“You may wish to think that, but the skill may not be enough. Not for what is to come.”
“And what is that?”
Benji tapped his knuckles on the stone again. “They are moving.”
“You can feel them?”
“When the stone wants to talk about it, which is not always. The stone recognizes the danger.”
“It does?”
He frowned at her. “You think I misspeak?”
“It’s not that. I just think that…”
She wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t sure how to tell Benji that she didn’t know the full extent of his abilities, but he certainly couldn’t know that her people would be unprotected against the creatures.
“The Koral might draw the branox. We can use them, then—”
Imogen cut herself off as the bearded master swordsman approached. Benji disappeared, heading over to the prison camp, leaving Imogen alone.
The man studied her and Imogen bowed, though she realized as she did that she didn’t bow as deeply as she should have, especially given his rank. He was a master swordsman, and as far above her in rank as she was above a Fifth of the Blade. Even more, probably. His five notches would be enough to distinguish him. Even if Imogen had stayed in the Leier homelands, she might never have progressed high enough to acquire five notches.
“General Derashen wants you to join him again.”
Imogen nodded. “I will.”
“He is most displeased we haven’t seen any evidence of these creatures you claim exist.” His brow furrowed and his nose wrinkled as he flicked his gaze over to the gathered Koral. “They have not been effective bait, perhaps.”
Imogen sighed. “They were never meant to be bait,” she said under her breath.
Hi
s eyes narrowed, and he watched her with suspicion. It was strange to have a Leier look at her with that expression, especially because there had been a time when she’d been one of the most prized fighters among her people.
But now…
“You would protect them?” he asked.
“They have done nothing to you,” she blurted. She wished she hadn’t, and she knew better, but she couldn’t shake the irritation she felt at the attitudes of her people. And this man, at least, wasn’t General Derashen.
“You haven’t changed at all, have you, Imogen Inaratha?”
She frowned. “Do I know you?”
He snorted, and he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. Imogen’s gaze drifted down to it, and she noted the notches. She had never known anyone other than General Derashen with so many notches on their blade. She had seen several within the sacred temple with a single one, but with more than that…
She studied the man, wondering if she might be able to recognize him through the beard, but she did not.
“Of course you don’t. Do you?” He glowered at her. “You’ve been gone long enough that you’ve forgotten those you slighted. Perhaps there were too many.”
Imogen’s heart hammered with the familiar tension that bubbled up within her—a call to battle, a warning that she needed to be prepared for the possibility of a fight. If he wanted to challenge her, she doubted she would be able to win. Not against somebody with five notches on his blade.
“When did I slight you?” Imogen asked carefully.
His eyes tightened, and she thought for a moment that she recognized them, but that moment was gone.
“You probably don’t even remember all those you dishonored at the sacred temple.”
He was there. Who was he, though?
“You trained with Master Liu,” she said. She had to pick her words with caution, to find a way to avoid angering him.
He shook his head. “Trained. Mastered five of the sacred patterns.”
She nodded. “You should be proud.”
“I don’t need for you to tell me what I should be.”
“I didn’t mean any offense,” she said.