Beneath him, the nightmare whickered restlessly and broke Ashok from his thoughts. He looked around at the landscape and felt again that sense of movement, of things watching him from vast distances. It was a strange sensation, this rolling motion. The wind stirred the grass, the river threaded rocks and weeds, and now the caravan joined the constant motion.
Part of the threat he felt was the ambushers. Ashok saw it in Tuva and Vlahna as well, in the way they rode their horses out east and west of the caravan’s path to scout. Every hour or so Cree or Skagi would venture out behind them, and more than once Ashok saw Kaibeth ride ahead to check the path.
As far as Ashok could tell, it was early morning when they’d come through the portal, but, as the day went on, the hills gave way to flat, open country. With fewer places for attackers to hide, the caravan crew relaxed a bit and eventually, Vlahna called a halt. The drovers hopped down from the wagons and waddled, stiff-backed, to check the horses. The other passengers immediately did the same. Ashok could see they were weary and grateful to be out of the jostling, bumping wagons.
“Before you get too comfortable,” Vlahna called out to them, “let me remind all of you that it’s not near dark yet, and that means we’ve many more miles to cover. This is a catch-your-breath stop-nothing more. We move out when I give the word and not five breaths after that.”
Low-voiced grumbling threaded among the crew, but it was mostly good-natured. Ashok got down from the nightmare’s back and led him to the river. He watched his and the stallion’s reflection as he bent to drink. Again he had to marvel at the variety here, the water plants that grew out from the bank, the green algae, and even a few bright yellow flowers that had survived the first of the killing frosts. Life was going dormant all around him, but there were still small signs of how different that life was from what grew underground.
He pulled one of the flowers out of the ground by its roots. As he examined it, he heard soft laughter coming from nearby.
Some of the passengers and guards had wandered down by the river. Ashok was aware of them, but he hadn’t noticed one of the humans watching him. She wore leather armor and a helm underneath which he could see strands of dark curly hair.
The physical appearance of the other races always struck Ashok, especially that of the humans. They were so much like the shadar-kai in stature and build, but they had markedly varied skin colors that changed according to their emotions or environment. When she removed her helm, Ashok saw this one’s face was dark and creased from where the helm had rubbed her skin. Of course, her eyes affected him most of all.
Human eyes with their three-sometimes more-colors fascinated Ashok. Black at the center blended to blue, brown or maybe amber, then the whites with their spidery red tendrils branching off in delicate rivers.
He didn’t realize he’d been staring at the human woman in silence until she chuckled again.
“Why do you laugh?” he asked her, feeling a stab of irritation. He’d been laughed at enough today.
“I forgot what you looked like,” she said. She surprised him by speaking the shadar-kai tongue-Common was the accepted language among the caravan crew-but Ashok thought she must not know what she was saying.
“I don’t understand,” he said.
She waved a hand. “Forgive me, that didn’t make any sense, did it? I’m trying to say that you’ve never been to Faerun before.”
“How do you know that?”
“I see the signs.” She plucked the flower out of his hand and tossed it in the river. They watched it float away. “You squint, you touch things as if they’re breakable, and you walk around in a daze. I used to go on caravan runs with new shadar-kai all the time, but it’s been so long since we’ve had one come through with us that it took me by surprise.” She stepped forward and extended her hand. “I’m sorry-I don’t mean to laugh. My name is Mareyn. I work for the Martuck family.”
She spoke quickly, with a crisp accent Ashok had never heard in Ikemmu. He clasped her hand. “I’m Ashok. The Martucks are traders?”
“Some of them are.” She glanced around. “The husband and wife are more than competent, but the boy would rather be anywhere else. I think his parents were hoping the caravan trip would put the fever in his blood, if you know what I mean.”
When Ashok merely looked at her, she smiled uncertainly. “You’re newer than new, aren’t you?”
“Back to your posts-we’re moving out!”
Vlahna’s call came from upriver. Ashok stood and followed Mareyn and the others back up a short rise to the wagons.
“We’ll talk again,” Mareyn said when he turned to head for the back of the caravan.
Ashok started to ask her what they were going to manage to talk about when he could barely understand her, but she was already gone. She took up a position with a crossbow in one of the wagons. Ashok saw the boy, the youngest Martuck, was there too. The two of them spoke for a breath, and though Ashok couldn’t hear what they said, he had a good idea what they were talking about when the boy turned to stare at him.
Ashok stared back until the boy turned a little pale and looked away. Skittish, Ashok thought. He mounted the nightmare and rode back to where Skagi and Cree waited. They were arguing, as usual.
“It won’t happen tonight,” Cree said. “No human force can get themselves organized that fast.”
Skagi nudged Ashok. “The one-eyed pup thinks we won’t see an ambush tonight. Needs his sleep, I guess. What say you, Ashok? Will we see them tonight?”
The caravan was moving, joining the flow of life again. Ashok did his best to go along with it, but he was still tense. “I hope we don’t see anything tonight,” he said. “We’re not ready.”
“Speak for yourself,” Skagi said sullenly.
Ashok sighed. “Fine, then. I’m not ready.” Mareyn had been right. He was too new. “There’s so much-I don’t know where to look, where to put my hands.”
The rain came two hours before nightfall. It started as intermittent drops, cold surprises splashing against their faces and necks. Ashok looked up at the sky. The dark blue clouds had turned black, and a crack of thunder sounded above their heads. A breath later, a torrent of icy needles came pouring from those clouds. The caravan was soon saturated.
Ashok pulled up the hood of his cloak to keep the rain out of his eyes, and the caravan crew hunkered down as best it could while still moving forward. The soft grass they traveled on would quickly turn to impassable mud. They would have to make camp soon or waste time and energy pushing forward through the muck.
He wiped the rainwater from his face. In the back of the last wagon, Ilvani sat with her head bent, her chin almost touching her knees. She hadn’t put her hood up, and the rain plastered her hair to her face.
“Ilvani!” He rode up to the wagon. The nightmare blew a hot, agitated breath, but otherwise it didn’t react to her presence. “Are you all right?”
She raised her head and, as if she’d only just noticed the rain, tipped her face to the sky and let the sleet hit her cheeks. Ashok let her alone for a breath before he repeated his question.
“It’s time to sleep now, isn’t it?” Ilvani said. Weary resignation descended on her body, bending her forward again.
Before Ashok had a chance to say anything, the wagons slowed and halted. Tuva rode back to them and motioned to Ashok.
“We’re stopping for the night,” he said, pitching his voice loud enough to carry to the rest of the caravan. “The rain’s too heavy-we can’t get to the usual campsite used for this route, but there’s some rocky ground up ahead that’ll serve. We’ll still be soaked, but we won’t be sleeping in mud. More important, the wagons won’t be stuck during the night. Guards, see Vlahna for your watch assignments. Passengers, make yourselves as comfortable as you can. The rest of you, get the gear and wagons secured. You know your jobs.”
The rain was too heavy for fires, so the caravan cook handed out cold rations and the guards took the horses down to the river for
fresh water. Vlahna assigned Ashok and the brothers the first watch. She pulled them aside.
“I want the three of you to hunt a little before dawn. Shadar-kai have the best eyes, and the more fresh meat we have the better. Just don’t stray too far from the caravan. I think we’ll be looking at a surprise from those bandits come morning.”
Cree elbowed Skagi. “Told you,” he said.
The camp came together sloppily in the rain, but by the time it was full dark, everyone had eaten and was bedded down in the wagons, hastily erected tents, or on the ground with blankets thrown over their heads. The rain eventually dwindled to a fine, icy mist.
Ashok went to where Ilvani still sat in the back of the wagon. “You can bed down back here if you want, or you can have one of the tents,” he told her.
“Stay in the wagon, witch,” Skagi advised. He shook out his own soggy tent cloth. “You won’t find a dry spot anywhere else.”
“It won’t matter,” Ilvani said. “She’ll find me wherever I go. I’ll stay here.” She huddled inside her cloak and lay down in the wagon.
“We’ll encircle the camp,” Ashok said. “I’ll ride out a little ways with the … my horse, and see if there’s anything moving.”
“Don’t go looking for trouble without us,” Cree said, giving Ashok a meaningful look.
“Not this time,” Ashok said. He glanced again at the wagon where Ilvani slept.
“Don’t worry,” Cree said. “We’ll all keep an eye on her.”
Ashok mounted the nightmare and rode out from the camp. His vision adjusted easily to the moonlit darkness. Patchy silver light illuminated the open plain. He could see for miles across it, but there was no sign of their attackers. He circled the camp in an ever-widening arc, looking for tracks, but he found nothing.
They aren’t ghosts, Ashok thought. They’re here somewhere. It was possible they had magical means to communicate with their partners.
Once he got out far enough from the camp, Ashok gave the nightmare free rein. The beast took off, gaining speed and power as he ran. Ashok sucked frigid air into his lungs. He could feel the contained heat of the nightmare beneath him.
“You’ll wait, won’t you,” Ashok murmured to the beast. “You’re biding your time because you don’t quite know your place here. But not for long. You’ll taste blood soon, but we have to be careful. You can’t betray what you really are.”
CHAPTER NINE
Ashok slept in short snatches that night. He kept hearing unfamiliar sounds, movement, and cries of animals he didn’t recognize. Once he watched a bird soar down to trap a mouse in its talons. The creature was snow-white and had a flat face with dark-rimmed eyes. Ashok had never seen a bird like it before.
Skagi roused him before dawn, and the trio left the camp with the nightmare to hunt. They found deer tracks, a small herd moving north away from the camp. Skagi kneeled to examine the droppings.
“Pretty fresh,” Skagi said. He wiped his hand on the grass. “We’ll catch up to them if we run.”
Standing next to him, Cree didn’t reply. Skagi sighed and wiped his fingers on his brother’s boot.
Ashok noted the warrior’s stiff posture. He had his hands on his katars. “What is it?” Ashok said. “Did you hear something?”
Cree shook his head. “Look at the tracks,” he said. “They’re too widely spaced. Something scared them, made them run.”
“A predator?” Ashok said.
“No sign of any in the area,” Cree said. “And look here.” He pointed to where the tracks came up from the river. “The tracks are evenly spaced. Something happened between here and there to make them run.”
“They must have heard something,” Skagi said. “Something the caravan missed.”
“A sound they’ve heard before,” Ashok said, understanding. “Something that signals violence to the animals in this area of the caravan route.”
“We need to get back,” Cree said, “now.”
Ashok mounted the nightmare, and the brothers ran along beside him back toward the camp. Gray light spread from the deep blue horizon. Riders came into view from the west-ten of them-moving fast. The camp had already seen them. The shadar-kai mounted up to go meet them while the rest stayed to defend the wagons.
Then, to the south, Ashok heard crossbow bolts singing in the air. Their owners-Ashok counted at least five of them-rode through the tall grass by the river. Ashok shouted a warning to Skagi and Cree and wrenched the nightmare around before they charged right into the path of the missiles. The black quarrels buried themselves in the wagon sides and into the dirt. Horse screams rang out as they hit two of the beasts.
No cheap weapons this time, Ashok thought grimly. They’ve brought out their best finery, just for us. He unhooked his chain from his belt and let it whip behind the running nightmare like a second barbed tail.
“We’ll take the bowmen,” Skagi yelled as he and Cree took cover behind the closest wagons. “Let your pony have the riders.”
Ashok felt the blood sing in his veins as the nightmare surged ahead. The sellswords had a head start on him, but they were still outnumbered. Ashok picked his target so he’d have the fullest effect on the rest.
The shadar-kai and the brigands came together in a ringing clash of metal, horse screams, and sucking mud. Ashok saw Kaibeth bury her dagger in the neck of one of the beasts. The animal gave a piercing scream and went down, pinning its rider underneath it. She turned and slid off her own horse to attack the leg of another that was fighting her comrade, the burn-scarred man. More than once the clustered horses came close to trampling her, but each time she danced aside and finally teleported out of the melee.
Ashok hauled the nightmare’s reins to the left, sending them out wide of the death circle and flashing blades. A crossbow quarrel skipped off his bone scale breastplate and flew wide. Ashok spared a glance at the camp and saw a second group of five crossbowmen riding in to support the first. Between them, they’d effectively pinned down the caravan for at least the next few minutes. Confident, perhaps, that they had the caravan surrounded, one of the crossbowmen had pulled off and was firing at Ashok.
Well enough, Ashok thought. You want to flank me, let’s see how you like firing through your own men.
He switched the spiked chain to his left hand and slid off the side of the nightmare, putting its thick body between him and the crossbow quarrels. He slung his right arm over the beast’s neck to keep from falling.
“What do you think?” he shouted to the nightmare. “Can you outrun their stings?”
In response, the nightmare let out its own fierce scream. Though dampened by Neimal’s magic, the cry echoed across the plain for miles and made the combatants falter in their attacks. Several of the brigands turned to see where the sound had come from.
All they see, Ashok thought, is a charging horse. But as the nightmare’s scream died away, perhaps they heard the sound of Ashok’s wild laughter.
A second crossbow bolt whistled overhead. In its wake, Ashok hauled himself back up straight on the nightmare and brought the chain over his head. He switched hands again and wrapped the spikes around the neck of a brigand on the outer edge of the circle. The brigand choked, his hands reaching automatically for the spikes. His hands came away bloody. Ashok rode right by the man and kept going. The chain pulled taut and jerked the brigand off his horse.
Ashok let go of his end and braced himself with both hands as the nightmare slammed into a second horse’s body. The animal’s legs folded, and it, too, dumped its rider. Ashok tensed, expecting Neimal’s illusion to fail, but the spell stayed in place, linked to the bone spur necklace.
A sword tip flashed in the pale dawn light and cut a slash in his armor. Burning pain erupted in his flank, and Ashok could spare no more thoughts for the nightmare. He slapped the beast’s flank and teleported just as the nightmare bolted.
Skagi yanked a crossbow bolt out of his arm and experienced a momentary dizziness when he realized the quarrel had multiple
barbs that had torn through his flesh all at once. He drew in a slow breath and shook himself. The pain spread outward in silky waves. Falchion in hand, he stood up and screamed, waving the weapon in his hands.
“Come over here, dogs, and let me take a bite out of you!”
No one took the bait, but Skagi dodged the two bolts that hurtled at his face. He ran forward and dived for cover next to one of the wagon wheels. Cree was in the back with Vlahna, who had her shortbow going as fast as she could get arrows nocked. The rest of the caravan guards either returned fire or, like Skagi, made their way from cover to cover until they could get in sword range of the bowmen.
A lot of them died in the process.
“They’re not quite the bad shots we thought they were,” Cree called down to Skagi.
“Who ever said that?” Skagi shot back.
“Oh, I don’t know-the corpse over there maybe, or that one, or …”
“He’s right,” Vlahna said. She yelled out, “Don’t waste yourselves by charging one at a time. You’ll only swallow a bolt. Oh, godsdamn it!” Her bowstring snapped. “Never mind, just give me some cover, Cree. Tymora!”
Vaulting over the side of the wagon, Vlahna charged. She screamed to her goddess and batted aside crossbow quarrels as she went.
“Cover her?” Cree sputtered. “With what?”
“Your body, Brother.” Skagi stood up and ran to follow Vlahna. “Or you can hide behind us and-”
Cree jumped down from the wagon and ran alongside Skagi. Either the brigands were running low on ammunition or they never expected an outright assault, because suddenly Skagi was out of the black rain and staring down at a brigand frantically trying to reload his weapon. He didn’t become aware of Skagi until the man was on top of him.
Skagi kicked aside the crossbow and followed up with his falchion. He slashed the man’s armor, which was not quite as fine as his weaponry. The leather parted easily for Skagi’s blade, forged in Ikemmu’s fires by the greatest smiths in Faerun, as far as the big man was concerned. But Skagi was not sentimental about his killing. He put his blade into the brigand’s chest and moved on to help his brother and Vlahna.
Unbroken Chain: The Darker Road (single books) Page 11