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On the Meldon Plain (The Fourline Trilogy Book 2)

Page 23

by Brondos, Pam


  CHAPTER THIRTY

  The pyre smoked before a blast of wind sent sparks scattering over the dry barn wood. Flames licked the broken boards and curled higher until they reached the pale bodies of the Nala. Nat stood close to the well, far away from the flames. Soris wrapped his arm around her waist. He pulled her close to his side, and they watched as the dawn light broke through the smoke rising in the sky. She leaned into him, trying to push away her sense of foreboding.

  Annin strode from the pyre toward them, her hand clasped around the base of a stubby torch. Nat coughed as the wind shifted and sent the smell of the burning bodies in their direction. Her eyes watered.

  “Mervin wants us,” Soris said as Mervin waved, gesturing for them to join Benedict and Andris by the wagon. Benedict grasped the side of the wagon and pulled himself into the bed. His small figure disappeared under the tarp. The corner of the heavy cloth flapped in the wind. Andris tossed a bag of the rudit in the bed.

  “I suppose he’s in a hurry before that pyre attracts visitors.” Annin’s gaze lingered on the fire.

  “Any ideas why the Nala had rings of remnant in their chests?” Nat asked as they made their way down the hill. The wind bent the blades of grass, slapping them against the hillside. She pulled her cloak around her and shoved her hands into the inner pockets.

  “No,” Annin replied. “We need Sister Ethes. She’s done the most research into remnant. But none of it makes sense. The remnant in the Nala was not its own, it was from another Nala.”

  “Why would it have another Nala’s remnant inside it?” Nat asked as she dug her fingers into her pockets, searching for her orb.

  “I have no idea, but the Nala that attacked you last night weren’t normal. They were like the one on the riverbank, withered and pale,” Annin said. “What’s wrong?”

  “My orb.” Nat stopped walking and flung her cloak open, searching her pockets. “Where’s my orb?”

  “It didn’t come back to you? We saw it in the tunnel. It was waiting for us last night before we got to you.” Annin glanced back toward the entrance cut into the hill.

  “I sent it to warn you about the Nala.” She ran her hands up and down the fabric of the robe. “I’ve got to go find it.” She sprinted to the gaping mouth of the passage.

  Quiet descended on Nat when she stepped through the opening. The dirt walls dampened the howl of the wind. She squinted in the dim light, hoping her eyes would quickly adjust. Soris ducked under the entrance and stepped by her side.

  “You might want this.” Annin appeared behind Soris and thrust the torch into Nat’s hands.

  They walked through the dark tunnel leading to the tower. Smoke from the pyre curled down the passage, sending everyone into fits of coughing.

  “Somewhere up ahead, I think.” Annin cleared her throat and moved quickly past Nat. “I remember seeing your orb right after we turned here.” She pointed to the top of the concave wall. “There it is.”

  The orb hung motionless next to a split beam. Nat stretched her hand toward the floating sphere. It held fast. “Something’s wrong.” She approached the orb cautiously and curled her fingers around it. Intense blinding light shot out from the spaces between her fingers and filled a wide fissure beneath the beam. Nat gently pulled the orb to her chest. “Come look at this,” she said in a hushed tone.

  Soris and Annin moved closer into the cramped space next to Nat. She released the orb, and its light poured into the crevice. Darkened orbs were packed into the deep fissure. Annin reached in and pulled out a dead sphere. Dozens came toppling out of the crack and spilled onto the floor.

  “All of you, out now!” Andris’ voice boomed. His order echoed through the passage.

  Soris grasped her hand. “We’ve got to go, Natalie. We don’t have time . . .” He pulled her toward the entrance. Her eyes lingered on the crevice and the scattered orbs. Their darkened surfaces looked like giant black pearls.

  Andris met them at the turn in the passage. “What are you doing? We’ll be lucky to get through the forest now without running into any of Mudug’s guards.”

  “We found something.” Soris glanced over his shoulder at Nat, making sure she was still there.

  “I don’t care what you found, we are out of here now.” Andris took two steps, then dropped to a crouch. The sound of shouting filtered into the passage. He crawled behind one of the loose beams and peered out the opening. He turned his head and mouthed the word “soldiers.” The others joined him and watched the scene near the stable.

  Their draft horses pawed the ground and twisted their heads. Mervin’s long arm thrashed about, trying to control the animals. Three soldiers halted their horses in front of Mervin’s wagon. The wind roared past the passage entrance, carrying snippets of angry voices. Mervin pointed to the pyre on the hill. Two of the soldiers twisted in their saddles.

  “Where’s Benedict?” Soris leaned next to Andris, keeping his body low to the ground.

  “He’s under the tarp,” Nat whispered.

  “Along with all our bags and my weapon,” Andris added, shaking his head. He turned to Annin. “Do you have your crossbow?”

  “No, it’s strapped to my satchel,” she said glumly.

  “Sister, Soris?”

  “I have my sword, that’s it. Everything else is in the wagon,” Nat said. Mervin shouted at the soldiers, gesturing again to the pyre.

  Soris pulled a sharp knife from his boot and handed it to Andris. “I have another, but that’s it.” He unsheathed a second knife from his belt.

  “They’ll have us in seconds if we try an assault.” Andris peered out again. “Annin, one of the tunnels leads to the private meetinghouses, correct?” Annin nodded and gestured to a dark split in the passage behind Nat. “Take Soris, get as close to their horses as you can under the cover of the grass. Try to spook them. That may give us the distraction we need. Go.”

  “Be careful,” Soris whispered to Nat and then disappeared into the inky darkness after Annin.

  “What’s the plan?” Nat asked as she pressed low to the ground and watched the soldiers question Mervin.

  “They’ll see us if we try to sneak out. But if any of them make a move for the tarp, follow my lead.”

  One of the soldiers turned his great black gelding and rode toward the pyre. Its mane flipped about in the wind. The animal jerked to the side as the smoke from the pyre and the smell of burning Nala drifted toward him. The soldier dug in his heels, but the horse reared and bolted from the fire back down the hill past the stable. The soldiers called out as he disappeared around a bend in the road on his crazed horse.

  The other horses stomped their hooves and twisted their heads in nervous agitation. Mervin frantically pointed to the boulders above the pyre as if he’d just spotted something. He snapped his reins. The draft horses lunged forward, followed in quick succession by the other soldiers’ horses. The wagon bounced over the road. Rounds of rudit spilled from one of the bags and flopped on top of the loose tarp.

  “Let’s go,” Andris ordered. He and Nat ran hunched over to the well and watched Mervin’s wagon and the soldiers disappear into the forest. Annin and Soris pushed the overgrown grass aside from their hiding spots near the stable. Andris beckoned them forward with one quick wave.

  “Nicely done,” Andris said, but his eyes were on the empty stretch of road flanked by the forest.

  “Those horses would have bolted without us once they smelled the burning bodies,” Annin replied. “Now what? If they search the wagon, they’ll find Benedict and all our bags and know Mervin and Benedict aren’t alone.”

  “We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.” Andris sprinted toward the stable. “Into the forest. I want one of you on either side of the road. Stay far enough in the tree line so they can’t see you.” Annin and Soris split apart and flanked the road. “Sister, stay with me,” Andris ordered. Nat nodded and followed him as he ran into the woods.

  Thick pine boughs choked the forest, veiling Nat and Andris in
a dense blanket of green. Wind twisted the treetops. Creaks and groans shuddered down the long trunks as they wove through narrow openings between the pines. The sand-colored road flashed through the trees. Andris and Nat increased their pace. She knew the horses would be impossible to catch if they continued to flee unchecked by their riders and Mervin. Their only hope was Mervin would try to calm his horses, slowing the procession of the riders.

  The forest sloped downhill. Andris’ foot caught on a root, sending him sprawling to the ground. Nat retraced her steps.

  “Go,” he whispered to her when she yanked him to his feet. She hesitated, then sprinted away. When she glanced back, he was running with a lopsided gait. She knew if she slowed, there would be no chance of catching Mervin. Glancing back one more time, she pointed ahead. Andris nodded vigorously, his face contorted in pain. She took off.

  Gusts of wind, twisting into the woods from the road, hit her in the face and dried the beads of sweat trickling down her cheek. An ache formed in the back of her throat. She pressed on through the forest, slowing only when she heard a chorus of angry voices. She ducked behind a tree.

  “My wagon will fall apart if we keep at that pace.” Mervin stood next to one of the wagon wheels. “The rim is already coming off.”

  “Leave it on the side of the road, you fool.” A soldier with a thick black beard brought his horse closer to the wagon. The other two soldiers glanced nervously into the woods.

  “I will not abandon my wagon,” Mervin said in a low voice.

  “You’ll do as I say, merchant. I don’t know how you got this close to Rustbrook without an escort, but I will find out. Either keep up or leave your wagon behind.”

  Mervin crossed his arms.

  “Rever”—he pointed at one soldier—“bind this man, and Willem, cut one of his horses free. We’ll use the other to carry him to the city. The Nala can chase after his other horse. You’ll answer our questions on the way to Rustbrook or—”

  Mervin sprinted away into the woods as Willem and Rever dismounted.

  “Stop!” the lead soldier yelled.

  Mervin turned to face his pursuers and cracked his whip in the air. The beaded tip snapped inches from Willem’s face. The soldier backed away, and Mervin unleashed the whip on Rever.

  Nat jumped from behind a tree and kicked Willem in the back. The soldier fell face-first into the dry pine needles. She kicked his side, flipping him over onto his back before he could spring up. His poufy blue hat flew about in the wind.

  “Behind you!” Mervin yelled.

  The lead soldier hurtled toward her, knocking her to the ground. His hands encircled her throat in a chokehold. Sweat fell from his face onto hers, and the light in the forest grew dim in front of her eyes. She fumbled to clasp her hands together, then jerked her forearms down onto his before she blacked out. His face hit the ground next to her and he lost his grip. Nat gasped for breath and twisted her body. He suddenly arched his back and his face contorted. Andris’ head appeared over his shoulder. His dagger was deep in the soldier’s back.

  “Andris!” Nat screamed as Willem, holding a sword, stepped behind him.

  Soris flew across the road, scattering the soldiers’ horses in all directions. He bowled into Willem. They rolled over one another and crashed into the base of a tree. Andris leapt over Nat and the dead soldier and slashed his dagger across Willem’s arm. Willem cried out and clutched the slice in his uniform.

  “Duozi, you’re harboring duozi! You’ll die for killing a soldier and hiding that scum,” Rever said, pointing a shaky finger at Soris and Annin, who now stood next to Mervin. Mervin’s whip snaked around Rever’s arm. With one quick jerk, Mervin sent him into the trunk of a tree. His head thudded against the bark. Blood spurted from the gash in his temple, and he fell to the ground.

  “Rope!” Andris cried. Soris twisted the soldier’s arms behind him.

  Annin sprinted for the wagon. The draft horses whinnied, but the wagon brake kept them in place. She jumped into the bed, looking for the rope. Her voice carried over the wind. “Get out of there, you coward,” she said.

  “Benedict,” Nat mouthed to Andris. The soldiers had seen the five of them, but they hadn’t seen Benedict. “Just grab the rope!” Nat called out.

  “But—” Annin said over the tarp.

  “Just grab the rope!” Nat called again, her voice tense. “Bring your bag, too,” she added.

  The wagon creaked. Annin carried the rope looped around her hand. She glared at Nat and dropped the rope at Andris’ feet. The bag landed with a thud by Willem’s legs.

  Nat searched through Annin’s bag and retrieved a cream-colored bandage. She started wrapping it around Willem’s eyes when he suddenly dodged to the side and slipped out of Soris’ grasp. He lunged for Andris, but Annin’s arrow sliced into him before he even closed half the distance. He fell to his knees and landed face-first.

  Soris and Andris dragged Willem’s body and let him drop next to the other dead soldier. Nat felt sick as she watched the body flop lifelessly to the ground. She knew they were both dead because they’d tried to kill her and Andris, but her stomach roiled at the thought that they’d been alive just moments before. She ran behind the wagon and heaved.

  “Is it safe?” The Hermit crawled from the back of the wagon bed. Safe? Are you kidding me? Nat thought as she watched him peer around nervously. He craned his neck to get a look into the forest. “Hmm, they’re dead. Good.” He limped toward the front of the wagon and clambered down the step.

  Nat wiped her face with her soiled cloak. Benedict adjusted his tunic and took a breath of fresh air, as if dead bodies were the norm. The wind whistled around her. Soris and Andris joined her by the wagon.

  “What do we do with Rever and the bodies?” Soris asked.

  Andris leaned down and rubbed his knee. “Those are Mudug’s personal guards. It wouldn’t surprise me if they were searching for the guard we picked up at the abandoned farm.” He pulled at his beard. A streak of blood covered his cheek.

  Soris leaned back so he could see Mervin and Annin through the trees. “Then we should move quickly. Who knows when another guard will come down this road.”

  “The duozi can disrupt the memory of the one that’s still alive, make him think they were ambushed by an angry convoy or bandits. Might be less risky than leaving the bodies to be found by Mudug’s other guards. They’d be on the hunt for us for sure if we did that. Have her alter his memory,” Benedict suggested.

  Nat stared at the Hermit. “What do you mean?”

  “She can modify his memory. She did it before to Rusrel. Made him think he’d married Emilia. If she was able to do that, she should be able to make the soldier forget who assaulted them,” Benedict said with a hint of accusation in his voice.

  “It might work.” Andris nodded. “She was supposed to wipe your memory months ago.” He pointed to Nat. “Before—”

  “Before I realized how desperate you were,” Nat jumped in, cutting off Andris before he could say anything else. She shuddered at the idea of Benedict knowing anything about her real life.

  Andris’ lips curled into a tight smile. “Exactly, Sister, because we were so desperate.” He limped toward the forest. “We need to knock that one out again.” He pointed to Rever, who groaned as his head rolled to the side.

  Nat’s orb hurtled through the air, passing Annin and Mervin, and clunked against Rever’s head. He slumped forward, unconscious. It zipped back and landed in her palm. She tucked it into her pocket and looked up to find Andris staring at her.

  “Not what I had in mind, but that worked just fine, Sister.” His eyes flickered toward Soris, who stood by her side. “Mervin will take Soris, Benedict, and me down the road. Sister, you will stay with Annin to guard her while she messes with the soldier’s memory.”

  “We should all stay,” Soris said as he stepped closer to Nat.

  “No.” Andris leveled a look at his brother. “I want that wagon on the road and moving. You said it
yourself, brother—who knows when another guard will come this way.”

  “I’ll stay, then.” Soris crossed his arms.

  “Give me grace,” Andris muttered through clenched teeth. “She’s not a lily.” He pointed at Nat. “I think she can handle watching the road while Annin works him over. We’ll go slowly, I promise. The fewer of us around, the better, and I need at least one able-bodied fighter with me. No offense, Hermit.”

  Benedict shrugged and clambered back into the wagon.

  “Then she can go and I’ll stay.” Soris didn’t budge from Nat’s side.

  Andris grew a shade of red Nat had never seen before.

  “I’ve got this.” Nat placed her hand on Soris’ arm. Soris opened his mouth. “I’ve got this,” she repeated, wanting him to trust in her ability to keep both Annin and herself safe. Soris pressed his lips together.

  “Thank you for shutting him up, Sister.” Andris limped over the dirt road toward Annin and Mervin.

  “Take a crossbow and another sword.” Soris jumped aboard the wagon and began handing her weapon after weapon.

  “Soris, I’ve only got two hands, and I have my sword. Give me the crossbow.” She passed the extra sword back to him. Benedict made a sour face and ducked under the tarp, muttering something about bad influences.

  Mervin walked up to the wagon. He ran his hand along the back of the bed and secured the clips. “Soris, Andris needs you to help him move the bodies farther away from the road.”

  Soris gave Nat a reassuring look. “I’ll be right back,” he said and jumped off the wagon. “Take more arrows!” he called out to Nat before heading into the tree line.

  Mervin placed his large hand on Nat’s shoulder. “There’s a bend maybe twenty minutes’ slow ride from here, Sister. Two roads join this one after it. We’ll wait for you there. Be quick.” He gave her a stern look. “You remember Wesdrono Street?”

  “Yes,” she answered and tied a quiver of arrows to her belt.

  “Keep it in mind if you can’t find us.” The wagon tilted to the side when he placed his toe on the step. “This excursion isn’t following the intended plan. Best be prepared for the worst.”

 

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