She retreated back into her own body once more and found herself lying on the ground panting, gasping as she sought to master the pain. A jagged dagger of agony stabbed at her breast, while another slightly lesser pain burned in her thigh. She looked down to see herself bleeding from the chest and thigh as if she too had been stabbed by Nesnys’s sword and pierced by a crossbow bolt.
Slowly, Mira mastered the pain as it sank deep into her until she had it contained. With some difficulty, she sat up, suddenly dizzy, not having realized she’d fallen over during the ordeal.
Taren was still unconscious, but his pallor seemed to have improved, and his breathing came more easily. She removed the wad of cloth over his stab wound and was relieved to see the bleeding had slowed to a trickle. With some difficulty, she wrapped a bandage around his chest, the cloth torn from a spare tunic in her pack, then bound another around the quarrel in his thigh. The quarrel posed no immediate danger, but she did snap it off an inch above the flesh so it wouldn’t tear on anything. After she got him bandaged, she turned her attention to binding her own wounds. When she was finished, she fell back, exhausted, waiting until she could muster her strength again.
Either I’ve managed to save Taren for now, or I’ve killed us both.
She looked around and saw the Nebaran encampment far in the distance, ablaze with bonfires and torchlight. She lay there for a time, meditating, trying to recover what strength she could. After a time, she became aware of distant shouts and the rumbling of hooves as mounted patrols canvassed the area in search of them.
Mira got to her feet, swaying a moment as she waited for another dizzy spell to pass. The cold had soaked into her body as she lay there, weakened from her injuries as she was. When her dizziness passed, she shouldered Taren’s pack along with her own then lifted him gently in her arms, cradling him to her chest. Her body was toned and strong, and he was slender of build, but even had she been in peak health, he still outweighed her by a significant margin. As it was, she struggled to keep from collapsing.
I can do this—just focus on putting one foot in front of the other.
She summoned her ki to aid her, bolstering the muscles of her legs, back, and arms.
Mira moved out at a steady pace, the tall grass brushing past her, continuing in the direction they’d been traveling. Step by step, she fought to keep moving northwestward, from what she could glimpse of the stars through the scattered clouds. The exertion drove the chill from her body, for which she was thankful.
Each step soon became a struggle, yet she was determined and her willpower fierce. After a seemingly interminable trek, the sky began to lighten. By then, her ki was expended, her wounds paining her once more, and her concentration frayed. Iron willpower alone kept her going.
Finally, Mira could continue no more. After spotting a nearby clump of bushes, she lowered Taren to the ground beside it then crawled into the small space beneath them and dragged him in beside her. Once she stopped moving and exerting herself, she began shivering, weak from their ordeal and soaked in dew, blood, and sweat. She remembered the ring Nera had given Taren and found it in his pocket. Hoping it might aid them in evading pursuit, she slipped it on his finger. Her cloak had been torn away during the battle, but Taren still had his elven cloak in his pack. She lay down, curled up against Taren’s side to conserve their warmth, then spread his cloak over the two of them.
For a time, she lay there shivering in the fading darkness, but gradually their shared warmth became comfortable. The cloak was much more insulating than the thin material suggested. Weariness would be denied no longer, and she fell into the deep sleep of utter exhaustion.
***
Ferret knelt in the trampled grass, studying a dark patch staining the ground. She could see well in the dark in her transformed state although everything seemed leached of color, the world around a portrait of grays upon grays.
Blood. And a lot of it. She searched some more and found a torn strip of blood-soaked blue cloth. This must have been them.
“Ye findin’ anything, lass?” Kulnor asked from a short distance away where the three men were hunkered down, grateful for a breather.
The three were all weak and tired after the long night and having been given little to eat or drink the past days during their capture. Unsurprisingly, the dwarf seemed the best off, because of the renowned hardiness of his people.
“Aye, there’s blood here. They must’ve come this way.”
“Let’s be after them, then. They can’t have gotten far ahead.” Sir Edwin lurched to his feet and came crashing through the grass, then something squished beneath his foot, and he nearly fell. “Ah, shite!” He’d stepped in a mound of horse dung, which he tried to wipe off in the grass.
“And fresh at that,” Jahn added, barely attempting to conceal a grin. He knelt beside Ferret and studied the bloodstain and the trampled grass. “The Nebarans are on their trail. Probably twenty or thirty minutes ahead, I’d reckon.”
Ferret thought so too. They’d seen torches and heard the rumbling of hooves in the distance throughout the night, along with shouts, barked orders, and an occasional horn blast. On multiple occasions, they had been forced to drop to their bellies in the tall grass to hide from pursuers. Torches were still visible moving through the plains of high grass, making those searchers relatively easy to avoid. She was grateful she’d tagged along with Creel while hunting during their travels and learned a little of tracking, else she’d likely not have noticed the way the grass had been trampled in this area, dirt scuffed beneath boot and hoof.
“Come on.” Ferret led them along the path through the grass where the blades were flattened by the Nebaran horses.
She couldn’t see any torches in the distance ahead but knew dawn would arrive soon, the sky already lightening to gray on the horizon. Daylight would make her friends even easier to track, and being wounded and on foot, or so she assumed, the Nebarans would inevitably catch up with them before long.
She increased her pace to a steady jog. Her companions grumbled behind her but puffed along gamely as best they could. They were doing well for their condition. Jahn winced and held his side as he moved. Kulnor had offered to heal his cracked ribs, but the veteran had declined, telling him to save his talents for when they really needed them. She liked both the dwarf and the human soldier—they were staunch, no-nonsense companions.
Edwin seemed driven—his shame after having been dressed down by Sianna following his display of cowardice had seemingly made him a new man. Yet Ferret neither liked nor trusted him. She knew his type well: a dandy who would walk the streets of Ammon Nor and toss a few coppers into a beggar’s cup to impress a companion yet send an urchin scampering with a kick to the rump when nobody was looking.
Hopefully, we can be rid of this lout once we find the others.
The sky continued to lighten in the east, and some muted colors seeped back into the world. Before long, it would be light out. Ferret slowed and scanned the ground ahead for tracks. Hoof marks were still visible in the soft ground beneath the trampled grass.
Still going in the right direction.
A snort from nearby caused her to freeze. Kulnor bumped into her from behind. She waved the others back. Looking around, she realized they were on a slight incline, and she couldn’t see more than a couple dozen paces ahead of her.
Crouching low to the ground, Ferret crept forward to where the terrain leveled out. A horse loomed out of the grass ahead, the tall blades nearly brushing the animal’s belly. It eyed her with distrust when it raised its head, munching on a mouthful of grass. Four other riderless horses were nearby. A sixth mount still had a rider.
She rose up high enough to spot the other five soldiers. They had spears and swords leveled at a clump of bushes ahead. One man, who looked to be a scout from his woodland garb, knelt on the ground and peered into the bushes. After a moment, he walked quietly back to the mounted man.
“What is it?” the mounted soldier asked impatiently.
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“Think they might be hidin’ in those bushes, Sergeant,” the tracker replied. “Definitely wounded—drag marks on the ground and some blood on the leaves.”
“About damned time,” the sergeant grumbled. He dismounted, his mail shirt jingling, and drew his sword. “Cut through those damn bushes, and if anything of flesh and blood gets in your way, don’t hold back unless it’s that mage the warlord wants.”
Ferret crept back to her companions. “Six soldiers ahead, and they’re about to ambush them. We’ve got to go now.”
“Right.” Edwin drew his sword and marched past Ferret, striding toward the Nebarans and making no attempt to hide his approach. “For Queen Atreus and the Kingdom of Ketania!” he shouted and charged.
The Nebarans whirled in surprise, then quickly moved to attack. Two men stepped forward to meet Edwin. Ferret ran past the knight on his left, extending the blade from her arm and barreling toward the Nebarans. A spear tip ricocheted off her chest, then she was leaping at the sergeant. She collided with him, hurling his body backward, while a quick cut sent his severed head spinning into the air.
A Nebaran beside her reeled back with Kulnor’s throwing axe buried in his chest. Ferret stabbed another man then tossed him aside. The fighting was all but done at that point. Edwin and Jahn both slew their opponents, and Kulnor downed the remaining man, leaping from the grass and surprising him as he made a run for the horses. The Nebaran folded over at the waist as he collided with Kulnor’s warhammer. Another blow to the head caved in the top of his helm, and blood spurted from the earhole.
“Sianna! My queen!” Edwin was already shoving his way through the bushes. “I’ve come to make penance and see you back on your rightful throne.”
The foliage shifted, and Edwin grunted in surprise, staggering back, his sword sent sailing from his hand. An instant later, he was knocked on his backside.
Mira materialized from the bushes and stood over him, hands raised defensively, blinking at Kulnor and Jahn in confusion.
“Mira! They’re friends,” Ferret said.
Her gaze sought out Ferret, and she relaxed. “By the Balance, it’s good to see you, Ferret.” The monk embraced her then looked at the others.
“I apologize. I didn’t recognize you.” Mira offered a hand to help Edwin up, but he angrily shrugged off her aid.
“Sianna isn’t here, is she?” Edwin asked when he regained his feet.
Mira shook her head.
“You lied to me!” he shouted at Ferret, fists clenching. “You said we’d find Sianna!”
Ferret shrugged. She hadn’t exactly said any such thing. “I reckon we shall. Just not quite yet.” She turned away from the fuming knight.
“Don’t turn your back on me, you little scamp!” Edwin stomped toward her.
Ferret ignored him. If the arrogant lordling laid his hands on her, she fully intended to knock him back on his arse as Mira had—only more forcefully. She almost hoped he would.
“Oi! Take it easy, there.” Kulnor interjected himself between Edwin and Ferret. “Ye had no qualms ’bout headin’ in the opposite direction from yer queen during the raid.” He stood with hands on hips, glaring at the knight.
Edwin’s face flushed an ugly red.
“No need to fight amongst ourselves,” Jahn said diplomatically. “Not when there’s a whole army of foes out there. I’m sure we’ll find the queen soon enough.”
“Aye,” Kulnor said. “We owe the lad and lass here for helpin’ us escape anyway. Least we can do is aid them in return.”
Ferret was pleased Kulnor and Jahn stuck up for her and was happy to see Edwin put in his place. Then she remembered Taren and met Mira’s eyes. “Is Taren…?”
“Wounded badly.” Mira sighed. “I feared he’d not make it through the night.”
Now that Ferret could see her clearly, she realized Mira was in bad shape herself. She had bloodied bandages wrapped around her upper chest and thigh, and her back was crusted with blood from a couple of deep gashes she’d been unable to bandage. She was surprised the monk was even able to stand. As if the exchange had taken the last of her strength, Mira wavered and looked as though she would fall.
Ferret took her arm and helped her sit down. “Kulnor? Can you see to my friends, please?”
“Aye, gladly.”
“Taren first,” Mira insisted.
Ferret shoved her way into the bushes then paused in confusion, for nobody else was there. It took her a moment to note Taren’s elven cloak was hunched up as if covering a person, but when she pulled it aside, he wasn’t there. She realized he must have been wearing that magic ring his mother had given him.
“Arse pain,” she muttered, patting around until her hands met resistance, not easy to do without a sense of touch. Eventually, she found Taren’s hand and slipped the ring off, and he instantly materialized in her vision. He was unconscious, so she gently picked him up and carried him free of the bushes. Jahn and Kulnor held the branches aside for her.
She knelt and set Taren down in the grass beside Mira. He was pale, his breathing ragged. When Kulnor peeled his bandages away, she gasped at the puncture wound in his chest. He also had a broken-off crossbow quarrel in his thigh and a deep gash in his forearm.
“The lad’s lucky to be alive and not bled out,” Kulnor said in surprise, peering first at the chest wound then at the crossbow bolt. “I’ll need a dagger to dig this quarrel out.” Jahn offered him one, then Kulnor’s eyes grew huge when he looked at Mira, realization dawning. “Yer wounds—”
“They’re matching,” Ferret finished, noticing how Mira had the same injuries, plus more of her own.
The monk nodded. “I was able to share his wounds.”
Ferret put an arm around Mira’s shoulder and hugged her, being sure to be gentle. “I’m so glad you’re both alive.”
She smiled wanly. “Me too, Ferret. Have you seen Creel and the others?”
“Nay, not yet. We’ll find them soon enough.” She was aware of Edwin brooding a short distance away.
“Are you thirsty?” Jahn offered Mira a water skin he’d found in one of the horses’ saddlebags, and she gratefully accepted.
Kulnor gently pried the bloody quarrel free of Taren’s thigh and tossed it aside. Blood welled up from the wound as soon as it was removed. He then began chanting in Dwarvish, his baritone voice growing in intensity. With his holy symbol clutched in one hand, the medallion glowing with a silver light between his fingers, he placed his other hand over the wound in Taren’s chest. A soft, warm glow emanated from his hand. For long moments he chanted, then he finally removed his hand.
The bloody puncture wound in Taren’s chest had closed up to an angry red scar. From what else Ferret could see, the quarrel wound had left a white, puckered scar on his thigh, and the gash on his forearm was healed to a fine white line.
Kulnor grunted in approval. “He should be fine with a bit o’ rest. Now, let’s get a look at ye, lass.” He came over and knelt beside Mira. “Ye can lay back and rest easy.”
Ferret watched, awed, as he worked his priestly magic upon Mira as well, calling upon Reiktir’s aid. Once he finished, her wounds had closed to scars as Taren’s had, and she had fallen asleep.
“They’ll need a day or more of rest,” Kulnor pronounced after examining Mira’s wounds, which he appeared satisfied with.
“We don’t have a day to rest,” Edwin snapped. “In fact, I should leave you all here. My duty is to see the queen to safety.”
Good riddance, Ferret thought, but aloud she said, “Fortune smiles at us, for we just happen to have six horses here.”
The group exchanged glances, and she saw a couple of tentative smiles, the first in hours.
“Ha. Right ye are, lass. Reiktir does indeed favor us this day. Although I wish I had me pony.” Kulnor looked at Jahn. “Best let me heal those cracked ribs so ye don’t slow us down any more.” He went to work on Jahn’s ribs when the man agreed, his whole side purple and swollen when Kulnor lifted
the mail shirt and tunic.
The sun was well up in the sky by the time they were ready to move. After some cajoling, Jahn managed to convince one of the horses to let Ferret mount, although the animal was clearly unhappy about the arrangement. She held the reins in one hand, the other around Mira’s waist before her, the monk fast asleep in the saddle. Jahn rode with Taren, the other two leading the extra mounts. Kulnor had offered to ride with Taren, but with his short limbs, he was having enough trouble staying on his own mount without trying to support another.
They rode out, heading north for Carran. Relieved that her friends would be all right, Ferret was starting to think fortune might actually smile upon them for once.
Now, I just hope Dak and the others got away too.
Chapter 13
“Keep riding. I’ll try to slow them down,” said Creel.
Sianna nearly protested, but she knew they’d be little help to Creel, who had already reined in and turned his mount to hold off their pursuers. Iris did protest, but he had waved her objection aside. The sun was up, and they could no longer hide under cover of darkness from their foes.
The Nebaran patrol that had discovered their trail spotted them soon after they fled the poor hiding place where Creel had left them while he went to gather their gear. As Sianna and her companions rode north, their pursuers slowly closed the gap. The landscape of central Ketania varied little from the constant grassy, rolling plains they’d traversed the entire morning. Despite her hopes of finding some type of cover to hide their passage or throw off pursuit, the land remained stubbornly unchanging.
Trial of the Thaumaturge (Scions of Nexus Book 3) Page 10