Kit turned to look at him, his head still tilted from his observation of Ria’s work. She had hiked up his pants leg and was gently clearing the broken leaves and dirt from the injury. He didn’t seem to be in any pain, or if he was, he wasn’t acknowledging it. He squinted his eyes at Theron, as if he were trying to decipher the question. One side of his mouth turned down and he looked back at Ria, tilting his head as if in thought. Theron sighed. This was pointless.
He was about to get up and dust off, with the intention of heading into the forest to see what he could see, when the boy made a noise that sounded like surprise. He stopped, surprised. Kit wasn’t mute. Bright eyes met his and the boy shifted, putting a hand behind his back, tugging at something tucked into the waistband of his pants. A metal ring, attached to a strip of leather, that looked like it had been cut on one end. He held it out to the Protector with an eager expression, his chin bobbing at Theron to take it. A chill swept through him and Theron looked at the surrounding darkness. It looked identical to the harness on the otokage they had fought. He strained to hear any sounds that seemed out of place. The night-time noises were uncomfortably normal.
Normal didn’t matter, however, in the face of that small strip of leather with the metal ring. He needed to check it out. Tipping his head at Mako, he said, “I need to leave the camp. Kit has been hurt. He brought back this.” Any blur of sleep left the guard’s face when he saw the strip of harness. He nodded tightly.
Taking one of Ria’s homemade torches, he lit it in the fire and walked over to the tree. It would be difficult, if not impossible, to trace the boy’s path. The child appeared to prefer the trees and seemed to move much more quickly through the forest that way. After these past few days, it was obvious that Kit was slowing his pace considerably in order to stay with the group.
When a look around the tree Kit dropped from produced no usable trail, Theron felt his lips tighten. This was no good. Without any markings to follow, he’d never see what had hurt Kit. It was simply too dark. They couldn’t break camp yet. The horses wouldn’t be able to see in this light and he would rather not draw attention riding by torchlight. He had already nearly died, when he was foolish enough to make the trip to Kitsune’s after nightfall. He wouldn’t take that risk again. If there were dangers in the area, he and Mako may be forced to stay up through the night and stand guard.
He started to turn back, opening his mouth to tell the guard, when Ria exclaimed, “Kit, get back here.”
Kit stepped in front of him. Theron crouched, nodding his chin at the child’s leg and then in the girl’s direction. “You’re hurt. Let Ria tend to you.”
Kit’s brow furrowed. Quickly, he took a few steps beyond the edge of the camp, looking up to the tree and then back to the darkened forest. He grimaced, shrugged and turned North, taking a few steps. When he saw Theron wasn’t following, came back. He made a noise that sounded impatient and irritated and expectant all at once. “Well, aren’t you talkative.” The Protector hesitated, but Kit’s stride seemed to be okay, though he favored the injured side slightly. And they needed to know. Theron said, “Ria, Kit seems okay. He wants to show me. This is probably important.”
Ria didn’t seem to like that, clear disapproval written in her expression, but she didn’t argue. “Be careful. He’s just a child.”
Theron watched Kit, moving deeper into the shadows. More and more, he was beginning to doubt that Kit was “just” anything, but he nodded anyway. “I’ll watch after him.” Then he turned, watched the boy scanning the brush until he found a less dense area to enter the trees. His little mouth twisted to one side and he nodded to himself, moving forward at a trot. Mentally shrugging, Theron raised the torch and followed. I guess it’s this way.
It was a good long jog through the forest and Theron wondered that Kit had ranged so far from where they were camped. The boy hadn’t made another sound since they had started their run and even now trotted silently in front of him, with seemingly inexhaustible energy. Theron was relieved to note when the clouds finally cleared and the stars came out, that he could judge where they were. And roughly how far they needed to go to return to the palace. Though, with the trees all around and over them, if he got disoriented he might have trouble finding his way back to the camp.
They were nearly a mile into the woods and Theron was considering telling Kit to stop. He didn’t like being so far away from the camp. It left Mako and Ria too vulnerable. The child was limping more noticeably as well, which was troubling. He opened his mouth to call to the boy, but he had already stopped. When Theron reached him, a small hand beckoned, and the boy was moving around the tight cluster of brush in front of them. Cautiously, the Protector followed.
There were three, all dead. Two were otokage, wearing the same harness they had seen on the other group. The last one was a man. A handler? His presence, so close to these monsters, confirmed the suspicion that the others likely were sent by someone. Maybe even sent by this man.
The torch the Protector carried revealed knife wounds, neat and clean in the throats of one of the otokage and the human male. The other otokage was off to the side. Death hadn’t reached for this one as cleanly. This must have been the one to give Kit his injury. One long-fingered hand was cut deeply and there was blood sprinkled across its scales, and stained on the point of one of the spears they seemed to favor, laying on the ground next to it. Theron’s stomach turned over, imagining the scene before it died. The killing blow was obvious, a stab wound through the right eye. His eyes glanced to Kit, standing quietly watching him, off to the side. He didn’t like thinking of the boy’s desperation, injured and hurting, likely struggling in its grip before he managed to kill it. It would have been fast, but couldn’t have been pleasant. The harness was torn, probably in the fight. Theron could see the section that had been cut for Kit’s memento.
Maybe this was an independent group. The others could have attacked them as a fluke. He doubted it. Two groups in one day was past chance, into certainty. Was this all of them? He held his torch higher, trying to get a better look at the ground around them. The churned dirt and leaves where he stood weren’t clear. A few steps away he found what he was looking for.
Ah. There had been a horse here as well, but just one. Confirmation, the dead man had been alone. The handler had hitched his horse to a thick branch that was snapped, jagged edges showing the panic in the horse’s actions. The tracks leaving the area showing it had taken off at a scrambling run. The fight must have terrified it. Theron looked into the shadowed wood and sighed. He doubted the horse was anywhere close by. A shame, another horse would have been helpful.
Shaking his head, he stepped back to the dead man. He checked on Kit, still waiting patiently, watching him as he moved among the corpses. He doubted Kit would kill without cause, especially when outnumbered. The child must have had a reason. Either they’d seen him and started the fight, or Kit considered them a threat. Thinking back to the boy’s antics earlier, skipping and playing alongside the village girl’s horse, it didn’t take much to know who the boy wanted to protect.
But why were these things here, who was sending them? He had a feeling he already knew.
He looked closer at the dead man. His expression looked faintly surprised. Theron leaned over to examine the body. His clothing marked him as a peasant, but nothing about that made sense. The cut of his hair, his build. How clean he was, in general. The most ambitious villager hoped only to feed their families. There was no time for such trivialities as hygiene, beyond what was needed to keep illness away. By the same logic, keeping, training and controlling nightmare creatures wasn’t something a peasant would have the inclination to pursue.
Though what he wore could have belonged to a poor man, everything else about him screamed that was a lie. His right hand was heavily calloused. This man was used to holding a sword. Reflexively, Theron’s fingers curled into a fist. Too much of this didn’t add up and he had a sneaking suspicion why. Tugging up the man’s sleeve
, he turned the palm up. And there it was, tattooed into his wrist.
The kanji said, “To serve.”
Already knowing what he would find, Theron checked the man’s other arm. The mark of the Imperial house. Quickly sifting through a leather pouch the man carried, he found a strip of soft leather, ragged along one edge where it had been cut, sheared off by a knife. The Mamoru’s emblem was burned into one side of it. Theron couldn’t help but recognize it. It was part of one of his leather tunics, given to the man for scent tracking by the otokage. Here then, was the last bit of confirmation.
He swore softly. “That was my favorite tunic.”
Chapter 15
“They were sent by the Emperor.”
“How can you be sure?” Ria was worrying over the child as she spoke, pulling fresh linen strips from her bag and upset with herself for letting him go with the Protector. Her mind knew that Theron was right to check on what had happened. That it was dangerous out here. Mouth twisting, she shook her head. Necessary or not, it had made Kit’s injury worse. The boy’s bandage had been blood-soaked when the two returned to camp and the child now obviously favored his left leg.
News that the Emperor had chased them this far was a not-so-small addition to her worries. A sharp and uneasy lump settled into her stomach. “Are you certain? We were so far from the palace when we ran into those things the first time. How could he have possibly found us?”
“I’m sure.” The Protector glanced up as Mako stood up, stalking over to them from the other side of the camp.
“What?” Mako said, his voice low. “The Emperor? You said the threat was near the throne.” Too late, Theron remembered that Mako wasn’t aware of the whole picture. “What are you saying?” The former guard was looking between them, expression darkening from surprise to anger.
There was no denying what he’d said, then, or now. “You heard right, Mako.” He held the other’s eyes, his gaze steady. “The Emperor sent them to kill us.”
“For bringing violence into the Emperor’s home.”
“For searching for the truth, for finding out we’ve been told a lie.”
Mako stood, pacing the length of the small camp. “What proof do you have?” There was an unsettled edge in his voice, and a bare accusation.
“A dead man.” When Mako made a sound like disbelief, Theron stood up. “And this,” he said, stepping up to the guard, gesturing to the center of the leather chest plate the larger man wore. The one Theron had “borrowed” and been wearing, when he was questioned by the Emperor. Right before the ruler had tried to put a dagger through his chest.
The damage to the leather was glaring, an ugly gouge in the smooth red of dyed and polished chest plate. “He did this, while the guards watched. He kept his voice low, so they couldn’t hear what he told me.”
“What did he say?”
“He said –” and the Protector was tempted to say more, to lay it all out, about the tunnels, the monsters within them, everything. But something made him hesitate. “He tried to kill me. Because I knew what he planned to do to the lady.” Turning abruptly, Theron stalked away.
Let the man think what he would.
He braced himself for more from the former guard, another protest, demand, or accusation, but he only heard the sound of shifting feet and a darkly muttered oath. This conversation probably wasn’t over, but for now he didn’t care.
The problem was, he understood Mako’s anger. If he were in the man’s place and someone gave him the same story, he would doubt it also.
Except some of Theron’s “proof” were the tattoos of the Imperial Guard on the forearm of the dead otokage’s handler. The very same tattoos Mako wore, and even now were visible in what was left of the dying fire.
The Protector didn’t know if Mako’s ties to the Emperor could ever be severed. Guards took an oath of fealty when they were appointed. And though he talked of protecting the lady, that was before and only within the framework given by Theron – when the threat was “near” the throne, not sitting on it.
Would he abandon his oath to the Emperor to protect the lady?
They were too vulnerable now to spend any more time on it. Standing up, Theron turned to the boy. “Kit.” The child stood up over Ria’s protests, taking a few faltering steps, before stopping, a small frown appearing between those brilliant blue eyes. Stepping forward quickly, Theron put a hand on the child’s shoulder. He hadn’t meant for him to get up.
A careful push was enough to get the boy to sit down again. He shook his head. “We need to take you somewhere you will be safe. Where do you call home?” Of course, the boy said nothing to that, and Theron felt a rueful twinge that he kept expecting the boy to speak. “Can you show us where to take you?” Kit looked at him, his head cocked to one side, eyes unblinking. A moment passed and Kit’s eyes flickered over to Ria before he nodded, attempting to stand, the clear intention of becoming their guide once again obvious.
Ria’s hand reached out and took hold of the boy’s wrist. He looked back at her, his head tilting to the side once again. “No, you need to rest, Kit. Mamoru, you can’t mean for him to lead the way.” She looked up at Theron and Kit’s curious gaze followed hers. It made Theron smile, the way the boy’s head moved between Ria, to him and back again reminded him of the litter of pups at the stables. The way they gave you their complete attention, heads tilting when they heard a funny noise, or were trying to figure something out.
He resisted the urge to sigh. “No, with that leg, he’ll need to ride with one of us.” Standing up, he walked to the base of the tree nearest them. He leaned over, fingers brushing through the leaves until he found what he was looking for. He brought the stick back over to where Ria and Kit sat and smoothing the dirt in front of them, he started to sketch. The mountains and mines. Mistwood, Eiji Forest, the Imperial Palace and Ume village, where Ria lived. “Where?” Then he held the stick out to the child.
Kit took it, eyes bright as he looked at the dusty image. He added a few things Theron hadn’t included. The streams they’d crossed, another village, all the while with a tiny smile playing about his small mouth. Theron had the sense he thought it was a game.
Then the boy made another mark and looked up at them expectantly. Theron’s brows went up. Clever. He’d put a mark just about where they were standing. Smiling, he nodded. “Yes, that’s us. Where’s your home?”
Kit just looked at him with that unblinking stare of his for a moment, before he waved the stick over one of the great forests to the South-East. Theron shook his head. Maybe the boy didn’t understand. “No, Kit.”
Huffing a breath, the Protector tried another tack. “Does anyone take care of you?” Theron tamped down his impatience as he watched the child mull over the question. Though he was obviously clever, the Protector really didn’t know how much the boy truly understood.
Apparently, he understood some of it, because after a moment his eyes widened and he smiled. He pointed with the stick a bit off to one side of their map. Theron knew the area. It bordered on the greater forest, but was distinct enough to have its own name. Kikino. It was also known for the wise, and some said insane, witch that lived there.
Well, he wasn’t surprised. The stone pendant around the boy’s neck said as much. But it did mean Kit would have to travel with them a while longer. To drop the boy back at Kitsune’s first, would mean they be doubling back again to get where they needed to go. That was a luxury of time they did not have.
“He lives beyond where we need to go. He will have to go with us, or travel his own way.”
Ria protested immediately. “We can’t do that to him! He needs to rest.”
“There’s no help for it, Ria,” Theron frowned, looking at the child again. Now standing next to the girl, who had one hand around the little one’s narrow shoulders. “It’s still almost a day’s ride. We’ll see how he’s doing. We can drop him at one of the villages along the way, if needed. Surely there would be someone to take care of him.” He
exhaled, aggrieved. “Okay. Time to go.”
˜ ˜ ˜
Ria woke to find her head resting against a warm shoulder, one arm hanging loosely at her side while the other was held securely in a firm grip. She vaguely remembered stopping shortly after dawn and switching places with the Protector (after the second time she dozed off and nearly fell out of the saddle). Once he’d settled her in front of him, his warm bulk behind her a comfort against the chill in the air, she’d fallen asleep almost immediately.
Now it seemed they’d reached their destination. When it fully occurred to her exactly where she was and who she was leaning against, her eyes snapped open. Theron tipped his chin down to look at her. She could hear the smile in his voice when he said, “We need to make camp. Are you awake enough to climb down?”
“Um. Yes.” She hoped the light was dim enough to hide the blush she felt creeping up her collar. Would she never get used to this? Sitting up quickly, she leaned over to swing out of the saddle. Still a little disoriented, she missed the stirrup. But she’d put all her weight into the movement and there was nothing to step onto. “Ah!” Heart in her throat, she grabbed Theron’s sleeve. He still hadn’t let go of her arm and when her startled eyes caught his, his grip tightened.
“Whoa, easy,” he said, one side of his mouth turning up. “Take your time.”
Biting her lip, Ria looked away and (unfortunately) caught a glimpse of Mako. He was shaking his head, dark eyes going skyward. Now her face felt hot enough that her hair might very well catch fire. Mumbling a thanks to the man beside her, she found solid ground, stepped back and looked around. Kit was sitting on a log nearby, his bandaged leg laid out awkwardly at an angle. It didn’t seem to pain him. It was more like he found the wrap irritating and didn’t know what to do with it. But as with everything, he bore it in silence, without complaint.
Splinter (Trapped Souls Book 1) Page 24