Tribe of the Snow Tiger (Legends of Windemere Book 10)

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “Timoran doesn’t remember much about the event, but the information may still be in his head,” Nyx explains with a proud smile. Dariana is the only one to nod her head, the telepath getting a sense of what the other woman is about to suggest. “Luke is right that we don’t know anything about a location. This mystery witness might have been standing somewhere that Edric and Timoran weren’t looking. Even if that is the case, barbarian senses are very sensitive and they might have subconsciously noticed this other person. It might not be a strong memory, but it could be in there and we only need to jog it loose. Since we can’t question Edric, we’ll have to push Timoran for the truth.”

  “If we agree to wake up early and meet with Timoran before the trial continues, will you let us rest?” Luke asks as he turns toward the wall. He can feel his senses wandering and a strong temptation to relax engulfs his muscles. “Just get some sleep and we’ll put your plan into action tomorrow. Not all of us were allowed to drink the day away in a tavern. So go to sleep, Nyx . . . Nyx?”

  “She fell asleep after you agreed to her request,” Dariana whispers from across the room.

  The sound of gentle snoring emanates from the slender figure that has put the pillow back on her face. Her shirt is bunched up enough to expose her stomach and one of her legs is slipping off the side of the bed. Neither of her friends move to tuck her in, the meditating pair figuring that she will not get hurt if she falls onto the floor.

  *****

  “I do not know what you are talking about,” Timoran states for what he has counted is the fifth time this morning. The barbarian is trying his best to eat the bland-tasting mush that he recognizes as the sheriff’s favorite method of culinary punishment. “This is the first I have heard about a mystery witness and that should not surprise you. Such a rumor would have started after I left, which means I am the least likely person to have any information about him or her. Should this person not have already come forward if they really exist? I thank you for trying to give me hope, but this sounds like a false rumor.”

  “Just think harder,” Nyx begs from the other side of the bars.

  When Timoran quietly returns to his meal, the half-elf throws up her hands in defeat and storms back to the table. She glances at the far end of the hallway where Luke is talking to Cyrus, the warriors having already left the conversation. Taking a sip from a flask, Nyx shudders at the sweetened water and uses the reaction to hide a momentary scowl. The itching on her chest has been maddening since she woke up, the irritation getting worse since she has to take the powder with the non-alcoholic drink. All of her flasks and decanters have been confiscated by the sheriff upon entering the jail, an act that Dariana is still attempting to undo without physically fighting Udelia. Nyx examines her dirty, rough nails and has a trio of arching lights dance around her fingers.

  “Would you hate me if I did something bad to get you out of this mess?” the channeler asks as she gets to her feet. Focusing on Timoran, she fails to notice that the others have stopped talking and are inching closer. “I know I promised not to use magic on you, but what if I could gain the one piece of information that would set you free? Would you hate me for casting a spell on you?”

  “Do not do anything you will regret,” Timoran replies, moving to the back of his cell. He reaches for where his great axe would normally be, but the spell-deflecting weapon has long since been locked away as evidence. “Events will happen as they are supposed to, so you do not have to push for information. If there is a missing witness out there then they will come to light at the proper moment. Whatever you plan on doing to me will not make them appear any faster or with any more influence.”

  “I’m only going to draw out the memories,” Nyx whispers before threads of aura squirm off her body. She is immediately tackled by Luke and Cyrus, who pin her to the ground and kick at the flailing spell tendrils. “Let me go! I need to do something to help him! This trial is a fraud unless we find that witness. Get off of me!”

  Recognizing a telltale surge of heat, Luke shoves Cyrus away from a fire blast that catches the half-elf’s arm. The smell of burning flesh snaps Nyx out of her rage until the tattoo erupts with a colorful beam that knocks the distant door off its hinges. Dariana and Udelia narrowly avoid the steaming projectile and sprint into the hallway as soon as they stand. Seeing an opening, Cyrus dives on top of Nyx and forces her lips open to pour the contents of his flask into her mouth. The channeler swallows the potent, licorice-flavored alcohol and scrambles to Luke as soon as her head is clear of the tattoo’s influence. She stops when her best friend shies away from her touch, the warrior nursing a badly burned arm.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t have control,” she says, trying again to touch the forest tracker. This time he gently takes her fingers, which are surprisingly cool to his heated skin. “I’ll take you to a healer right away. Then I’m going to find a spot in the wilderness to hide. It’s probably best that I remain isolated until this whole thing passes.”

  “Give me a minute and don’t be so dramatic,” Cyrus requests as he jogs through the open doorway. The black-haired man returns a minute later with a pot of healing salve, the gel’s scent strong enough to make all of the barbarians’ eyes water. “This won’t heal it completely, but it will dull the pain and give you more time to get him to a shaman. Unless our dear sheriff wishes to use one of the healing potions she keeps in her desk for emergencies. Not that this was caused by her creating a rule overnight or anything.”

  Udelia crosses her arms and makes no move to leave the hallway, the woman angrily tapping her foot on the stone. “Those are for life-threatening injuries and are difficult to obtain at this time of year. That burn won’t even scar once the shamans get their hands on him. Now there better be a good reason for what just happened or I’m taking the Near God up on her offer. Little chance of a predator eating her, but I’d rather not subject the wilderness to such an unstable being.”

  “What did you try to do, Nyx?” Dariana asks while kneeling next to her friends. Taking the salve from Cyrus, she gently applies it to Luke’s arm and is happy to see some of the damage repair itself. “It looks like he’s having a positive reaction to this. So you don’t have to be upset any more. Just tell us what happened.”

  “She attempted to awaken my memories of the battle,” Timoran calmly answers. With a sigh of resignation, he puts his head against the warm bars and gently taps his fingers on the polished metal. “Perhaps you should do it, Dariana, and help put Nyx’s mind at ease. All I ask is that you only look for memories of the missing witness. Please do not pry any further than that.”

  The sheriff’s eyebrow twitches and she cracks her knuckles as she asks, “What is he talking about? Are you people hiding something?”

  “I’m a telepath,” Dariana bluntly replies.

  Udelia leaps across the hallway and slams the smaller woman against the wall, the impact shaking a few loose pebbles out of the ceiling. She presses her thick forearm against Dariana’s throat in an attempt to make her pass out and smirks at the harmless slaps to her head. Resigned to fight back, the champion delivers a solid kick to the barbarian’s stomach and knocks her against the cell bars. Breathing steady and searching for an opening, they circle each other until the sheriff is within reach of a chair. Wielding the furniture like a club, she charges forward and aims for Dariana’s knees. The silver-haired woman leaps over the attack, which exposes her to a shoulder rush that wedges her head between two of the bars. With her hands gripping the bent rods, the champion pulls herself up and swings both of her legs to strike Udelia in the jaw. The sheriff crashes against the far wall, giving Cyrus enough time to bravely step between the two women.

  “Let’s calm down and discuss this,” he says while repeatedly turning around to keep an eye on both fighters. The idea of getting hit by either woman drives him to stay on his guard and nearly make himself dizzy. “Dariana is a telepath, which I knew about. She is also an honorable person and swore to obey our laws. That is why
I didn’t say anything. I can assure you that she’s done nothing to effect the trial.”

  “Actually, I did use my powers to influence the sheriff’s temper,” Dariana admits as Timoran helps her get free. Her neck is sore and she can feel the beginning of a headache, so she sits on the floor while massaging her temples. “You were already close to the edge and I was annoyed that you interrupted my opening statement. It made me feel like I was not meant to have a chance in this trial, so I acted childishly. I apologize.”

  “King Edric will hear about this immediately,” Udelia growls, shoving Cyrus out of her way. She grabs Dariana by the arm and yanks the woman to her feet, grinning at the cringe of pain. “You’re coming with me and we’ll see if the trial goes on or your friend is executed before lunch. Possibly with you next to him.”

  With a worried glance at her friends, Dariana is dragged out of the jail and the slamming of a distant door echoes for several seconds. Nyx helps Luke to a chair, neither of them willing to look in Timoran’s direction. Both of the half-elves are annoyed at the barbarian for revealing what could have been their only advantage. The fact that Dariana’s powers did not stay secret for longer than a day makes them even more frustrated, which is clear from the way they repeatedly pound a fist on the table.

  “It would have come out eventually,” Cyrus politely claims, sensing the sparks of animosity between the champions. Clicking his tongue, the barbarian goes about administering more of the salve to Luke’s arm. “Either Timoran would have let his honor get the better of him or somebody would have caught Dariana doing something outside of the courthouse. Those are the best case scenarios too. Imagine if you won the trial and then people found out she was a telepath. Rumors about her manipulating everyone would run rampant. King Edric and Sheriff Kalten would have to resign because they would be seen as mentally compromised. Timoran would have to run away again with no chance of ever coming home. I’m pretty sure the bounty on his head would grow and cause all of you a lot of grief. Trust me when I say that this is for the best.”

  “Dariana will find a way to keep the trial going,” Luke says, wincing at the sensation of blistering skin. He changes into Stiletto for a minute and returns to his true form, which does very little to heal the burn. “Seems I really will have to visit a shaman before I go. Thought I’d found a way to heal immediately, but I guess it works better with setting and fusing bones. That does make sense since I always feel those shifting around and warping when I change.”

  “Where are you going?” Nyx asks, watching as the forest tracker flexes his arm. She catches him by the collar when he tries to leave and pulls him back into the chair. “Answer my question, little brother.”

  “I’m going to hunt down the mystery witness if they exist.”

  “Then we’ll stop to get my things.”

  Luke takes Nyx by the hands and carefully spins around to place her in the seat. “I’m going to do this alone because you’re too unpredictable. There’s no telling where I’ll have to go to find this person and you need to stay near a tavern. I promise to let you know if I’m traveling further than a day away.”

  “Then what am I going to do to help?” the violet-eyed channeler snaps, her frustration sending flames along her hair. She can feel a burning ache in her chest and gives a few punches to the tattoo, the last one making her wheeze from the impact. “Damn thing is tempting me to tear it off, but I’m sure it goes down to the bone. I want to do something to help Timoran and sitting around isn’t doing wonders for my situation either. I’m banned from the courthouse and you don’t want me around. I don’t like feeling useless. What else is there to do besides drink and avoid getting into fights?”

  “You could visit the library and research Aintaranurh,” Timoran politely suggests, his voice faint and his head lower in shame. Shuffling his feet, the barbarian seems mesmerized by a hole in the toe of his boot until he forces himself to look up. “I apologize for revealing Dariana’s secret. It will make things more difficult, but I am sure you still want me to have hope. The library has books on the temple, which may hold information about the challenges that are waiting for me. If I get out of here and avoid execution then it would be nice to know what I am walking into. They allow you to drink in the library, so do not let anyone tell you otherwise. Bring Cyrus along to assist you if he is not busy. The man always did enjoy the view from up there.”

  “Only when I was with a beautiful woman,” the other barbarian states, his face suddenly stricken with panic. He can see Nyx chewing on her lower lip and staring at him with eyes that he is sure could become real daggers at any moment. “Not that you aren’t attractive, Lady Near God. Though I do prefer my dates to be more ro . . . taller. We’ll go with taller.”

  The half-elf crosses her arms and arches her eyebrows. “You were going to say robust.”

  “It only counts if I finish the word. I could have been saying anything that starts with that sound.”

  “Just show me to the library and I’ll let you prowl the stacks for women.”

  Cyrus opens his mouth to saying something else, but a pat on his arm from Luke tells him to give up. With a low bow, he gestures for Nyx to walk through the broken doorway first. He takes a second to give Timoran a friendly flick to his fingers and flash a charming smile. Not wanting to get yelled at or set off another magical tantrum, he catches up to the speedy half-elf with a few long strides.

  “Do you really have hope?” Luke asks his imprisoned friend.

  “I have hope that this will end and I will find peace,” Timoran replies before going to his bed and laying down. “What form that will take is not for me to say. Just do what you think is right and I promise to avoid making the situation worse. Please tell Dariana that I am sorry for my mistake.”

  “You can tell her yourself since I’ll be too busy searching for this witness.”

  “What makes you think this person is real?”

  Luke grins and gets as close to the bars as he can, his voice sinking to a whisper that only a barbarian could hear. “I may have picked up a trick from Dariana yesterday. Watch people for their reactions to certain questions and words. It’s a lot like looking for another warrior’s tell during a duel. Udelia’s eyebrow twitched when you mentioned the witness. That tells me there’s more meat to the rumor than we originally thought. She probably doesn’t know who it is, but there’s definitely a mystery out there.”

  “Good hunting, my friend,” the barbarian says with a wave of his hand. He remains on his bed until Luke leaves, the half-elf’s footsteps turning into the padded trot of a dog. “I hope you find your prey.”

  *****

  King Edric frowns as his breakfast goes cold and Sheriff Kalten reveals the truth about Dariana. The silver-haired woman remains standing at attention, her face a mask of calm acceptance. In contrast, Udelia is yelling so loud that her face has become redder than the apple on Edric’s plate. With his stomach rumbling, the Snow Tiger King cuts a slice of the ripe fruit and spears it with the knife along with a few pieces of bacon. The crunching does not drown out his subordinate’s ranting, so he waits for her to take a breath before slamming his fist on the solid table. Udelia patiently waits for the man to speak, but he calmly goes back to his meal and leaves his guests in anxious silence.

  “This does present a problem for all of us,” Edric says as he swallows the last bite of his breakfast. Using an untouched napkin, he writes down a few words and hands the note to a nearby guard who leaves through a side door. “There are many paths we can take to settle this issue. Do you feel that we should declare a mistrial and move on to the execution, Sheriff Kalten?”

  “It would be the cleanest solution,” she replies, knowing that there is more behind his question. The thought that her former teacher is still giving her lessons helps to ease her roiling temper. “Yet it wouldn’t give Stonehelm complete closure like we wanted. Many will think we took the first opportunity to execute the traitor. Others may even think Dariana was chosen specifica
lly because her powers would cause a mistrial. There will always be some who doubt the honesty of our intentions if we were to end the trial so swiftly.”

  Dariana clears her throat for attention, refusing to shy away from the waves of aggression she receives. “I suggest you tell your people about me and give them a solution. My secret would have been revealed to the public at some point. Better to control the flow of information than be taken by surprise. I will admit to my dishonesty when the trial continues.”

  King Edric leans back in his throne and runs his hand over his bald head, a thin layer of sweat having to be shaken off his fingers. He takes in the sight of the serious and apologetic woman, his eyes searching for any sign of deceit. Stroking his beard, he observes that every one of her muscles is relaxed and her face never falters. Holding onto a glimmer of suspicion, the wise ruler tries to decide if she is being sincere or is a highly skilled liar. The possibility of her manipulating him with her telepathy comes to his mind, but the Snow Tiger King accepts that there is nothing he could do to prevent that from happening. All he can do is trust that Dariana speaks the truth and is not the type to abuse her abilities.

  “You can’t possibly let her continue working within the court,” Udelia whispers through clenched teeth. Refusing to let the king give in, the sheriff bows her head and reduces herself to begging. “Please don’t do what I know you are thinking. I can find someone else to defend the traitor. Just give me some time.”

  “The only ones who can replace her are Cyrus and Luke Callindor,” Edric points out while rising to his feet. Choosing a brush from a small collection, he goes to a mirror and goes about removing knots from his beard. “The forest tracker would be a terrible choice due to his obvious restlessness. Cyrus is the traitor’s childhood friend, so questions would arise about his loyalty and honor. It appears we must remain with Dariana if the trial is to continue. To be honest, I wondered if you were hiding something. My initial guess was that you were a caster or priestess, but I would never have guessed mind reader.”