The Kinmar (Knights of Aerioch)

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The Kinmar (Knights of Aerioch) Page 4

by David Burkhead


  Kreg retrieved his sword and slid it into its scabbard. The staff lay on the other side of the path. He retrieved it as well, and set off into the woods ignoring the path, guided Kaila-ward by that thread of the Knightbond.

  #

  A tree shook nearby. Kaila crouched beneath a bush on the stream bank, waiting. She ground her teeth to keep them from chattering. She had not left the stream, which now reached knee height when she stood and, despite the warm air, she felt the chill.

  Another rustle of a shaken tree branch. Was it farther off? Kaila could not tell. A third rustle, definitely farther this time. Kaila waited. She heard no more. She counted slowly to one hundred. Still no more sound other than a slight whisper of wind in the treetops. She ducked under the branches of the bush and took a step parallel to the bank. At the edge of the area covered by the bush, she stooped and peered out. She saw nothing but the water and trees.

  Just as Kaila was about to step out to continue down the stream, a snort sounded from beyond the bank. Kaila froze. After a moment of silence, she glided back into the deep shadow under the bush. Ignoring the cold, she sat in the water and leaned back with only her face exposed, trusting the water to hide most of her scent.

  Another snort carried to Kaila through the water, then the muted sound of voices. She lifted her head enough for her ears to clear the water.

  “...the horse but no sign of the woman,” a high-pitched, raspy voice said.

  “Find her,” a deeper voice replied. “Find her and kill her.”

  “She must have gone down the stream.”

  “Then why are you standing here? Find her.” The deeper voice grew quieter as if musing to himself. “This woman has taken too much of our time. We find her, we find the man the cat says was with her. And we kill them.”

  “Every human,” the raspy voice said.

  “Every human,” the deeper voice said, “until the world belongs to us. Now go. Find her.”

  Kaila heard the light rustle of feet running on forest litter. Kaila waited. Soon another rustle, slower. Someone walking.

  Silence descended, returning to nothing more than the breeze in the treetops. Kaila waited. Kaila counted silently to one hundred. No sound. She repeated the count. Still no sound. She felt on the stream bottom and found a small stone. She lifted her arm out of the water, slowly so the water would drain down her arm with only a whisper of sound as it dripped back into the stream. With a quick flick, she tossed the stone so that it landed about twenty feet upstream, splashing into the water. She waited. No further sound.

  Satisfied that the kinmar had moved on, Kaila eased out from under the bush. She stood, her eyes sweeping the forest to either side of the stream bank. No one. She gnawed on her lower lip for a moment, then grasped a small sapling at the edge of the stream and swung herself out of the water and onto the bank.

  A quick search revealed several sets of tracks. Cloven hooves, large and deep. The bull-form kinmar. Other tracks indicated rat-forms and one set of splayed, stick-like indentations. A bird-form? She had not seen a bird form with these kinmar before. At least the bird forms could not fly. The squirrel form created a much more serious threat of detection.

  Kaila smiled. They were searching ahead for her, but she was behind. Now she was hunting them.

  #

  Kaila was close. Kreg felt along the web of the Knightbond. Distance was hard to judge accurately using the connection but a mile, maybe two.

  Birds burst from a tree to Kreg’s right. He froze. Silence. Kreg slowly turned his head in that direction, peering first into foliage then to the ground below the tree. A flicker of movement caught his eye at the base of the tree. Kreg lowered himself to a squat and waited. He let his hand drift to the hilt of his sword. Another flicker of movement. There. Kreg could see it now. Just a hint of a furred knee projecting beyond the bole of the tree.

  A large tree grew to Kreg’s left. Kreg shifted his weight and stretched his left leg out, then shifted his weight again to draw in his right leg. Whatever was behind that more distant tree did not react. In the same manner, keeping sound to no more than the light rustle of leaves caused by the breeze, Kreg eased himself behind the nearby tree. He stood and watched. Still no response except the occasional twitch of the exposed leg.

  Had Kreg been spotted? He did not know but he would have expected some reaction by now if he had been. Kreg studied the ground around him. A bush here. A fallen tree there. A shallow gully across there. He lowered himself to the forest floor and crawled, keeping to cover, working himself to the side. He needed to see what was on the other side of that tree. Patience was the key. Speed meant noise and noise meant discovery. Kreg wormed his way under a bush.

  The tree, there. A kinmar squatted next to it. Long, pointed snout, somewhat bulbous body, long thin hands and feet. Rat-form. It had a quiver of arrows slung across its back and a short, wooden bow leaned against the tree. The kinmar looked back into the woods while it held something up to its face on which it gnawed.

  Kreg wished he still had his own bow but it was lost along with his horse. He reached for his sword and drew his good leg up under him. A short dash. A strike. Cut the throat of the kinmar before it could retrieve its bow or, more importantly, call to any others.

  The kinmar lowered its hands along with whatever it was gnawing on and shook its head. A sound very like a sigh came from it.

  Kreg hesitated. He thought back for a moment to his meeting with the wolf-form. Not evil, that one, or not irredeemably so. Perhaps.

  A moment’s hesitation only, but it was enough. A shout came from further in the forest. The rat-form shouted back and retrieved its bow. Kreg lowered himself back to the shadows on the forest floor. The kinmar trotted off, back the way it had come.

  Once the kinmar disappeared from sight, Kreg emerged from underneath the bush. He stood. He looked first the direction in which the kinmar had gone, then in the direction the Knightbond told him Kaila lay. He stood for a moment, undecided, then turned in the direction of Kaila and took a step.

  He walked slowly, pausing after each step to examine the forest around him.

  Patience was the key. Haste was the enemy. He had made that mistake once. He would not make it again.

  #

  Patience, Kaila told herself. The bull-form left a clear trail. Its weight, supported on hooves, left deep marks even in the forest litter. But she dared not forget the others, those she had seen and those she had not yet seen. Any of them could discover her and bring the entire group down on her.

  She felt along the web of the Knightbond. Kreg was there, no more than a mile or two, almost due East. The kinmar’s track led closer to southeast. Good. Unless things changed they would not stumble upon Kreg, not soon anyway.

  More tracks crossed the trail Kaila followed. She knelt to examine them. Bird, rat and cat in addition to the bull and other hooved forms. The kinmar had met here, conferred and then spread out in their ongoing attempt to find Kaila.

  Kaila smiled. Hunting her, the ground-bound kinmar could travel no faster than could she. Their need to stop meant she would gain on them. Satisfied, she stood and continued her slow pursuit.

  Time passed. Kaila continued to follow the trail. She could feel Kreg nearing. He was very close now. Kaila paused. She and Kreg were behind the kinmar. How simple it would be to find Kreg and fade away. She and Kreg had lost everything, their mounts, their supplies, even their bows. Kaila only had her sword, boots, mail and gambeson. She had left Kreg with less. All because Kreg had been reckless and she, in too much understanding of its cause, had gone along.

  They could leave now and come back with the army.

  Kaila drew a deep breath, prepared to turn. She stopped. “Meritha,” she whispered. “Her name. The girl.”

  Kreg had been reckless but he had also been right. By the time they could bring the army the kinmar would escape. It would be long and long, if ever, before they found them.

  The kinmar could not be allowed to destroy
an Aeriochnon village with impunity. They must pay.

  Kaila continued forward. She put the thought of Kreg’s closeness from her mind. The trail led to the edge of a clearing. Kaila paused, kneeling again to examine the tracks. The kinmar had held another meeting here, then the bull-form had crossed the clearing.

  Kaila wiped her hands together then stood, stepping out into the clearing. When she was halfway across she heard a high whistle behind her. She spun. There, in the tree under which she had stopped to examine the tracks hung the squirrel-form, its smile mocking her.

  “Fool!” she berated herself. She spun back. Ahead, the bull form, flanked by the three rat, stag, and horse-form emerged from the forest. To her left two bird forms, armed with daggers, stepped forth. To her right, the cat form crawled on two legs and one arm, the other still hanging limp. “A trap.”

  The rat form’s bow twanged followed by that of the stag and horse-form. One arrow skittered off of Kaila’s mail, leaving a welt below her left breast even through the gambeson. The second arrow pierced the rings and sank into her right shoulder. The third embedded itself in her left leg, just above the knee.

  Kaila drew her sword and took a step. Her leg, the arrowhead in it tearing muscle, collapsed beneath her spilling her to the ground.

  “No!” Kaila could hear Kreg’s cry in her heart as much as in her ears. She pushed herself up, trying to regain her feet but only making it to her knees. Her sword? There. She closed her left hand around the grip and lifted it.

  There. There was Kreg. He had burst from the brush and struck at the bird-forms from behind. Even wounded, exhausted, patched together and sustained by magic, magic Kaila could feel from where she knelt bleeding, he struck. The bird-forms went down. Kreg, no longer able to sustain himself even with magic, sank to the ground. Shaking, he crawled into the clearing, almost glowing with his obsession with reaching Kaila.

  Kaila tore her eyes away from Kreg and back to the bull-form. The bull form spoke in a language Kaila did not know. The rat and horse forms drew their bows.

  Rat and horse? Where was the stag form?

  Kaila gathered her strength and staggered to her feet. Half dragging her left foot, she took one step toward the bull-form. She brought her right hand up and took her sword in a two-handed grip.

  A gray-brown form burst out of the woods where the stag-form had been. It streaked across the clearing in the direction of the cat form. It struck the cat-form and the two went down in a jumble of slashing claws and teeth.

  To her left, Kreg collapsed to the ground. He lifted a shaky hand in Kaila’s direction. Kaila felt a surge of power through the Knightbond and she knew. Magic had sustained Kreg, had held back the exhaustion, had forced his damaged muscles to continue to move him. He had released that magic and hurled it to her.

  With the magic came knowledge. The handfire spell that had so long eluded her; she knew. Her left hand released the sword and, of its own volition, made the gesture, fed by the power of the knightbond. Fire leaped from her fingertips. She focused more power into it and hurled it at the rat-form, then the horse-form. The fire died. She no longer had power to sustain it, but the two kinmar were down, dying, with gaping holes burned into their bodies. The bull form bellowed and charged.

  What Kreg had done, Kaila could now do. She used the remaining power to drive away fatigue and pain, to force her battered muscles to function. She gripped the sword again in a two-handed grip.

  For that moment, she was fully herself. She was Kaila, Knight of Aerioch.

  And no lone kinmar could stand against her.

  She knocked the kinmar’s spear aside with contemptuous ease. Her return strike struck it below the shoulder severing the muscle of the arm. The spear dropped. Kaila licked out with her sword, its tip flashing across its throat.

  Blood spurted. The kinmar clasped the hand of its remaining good arm to its throat to no avail. It sank to the ground and rolled over onto its back. In moments, it was dead, its eyes staring sightlessly at the sky.

  Kaila looked over to where the cat form had been fighting its opponent. That fight, too, was over. The cat form lay dead and the newcomer, a wolf, no, a coyote form stood over it, torn but alive.

  Kaila raised her sword.

  “I wish no fight with you,” the coyote said. “Your companion—“ It sniffed. “—your mate, needs you, I think.” With that, the kinmar turned and disappeared into the woods.

  Kaila turned back toward Kreg and staggered, the borrowed power fading. Somehow, Kaila was never sure how, she reached Kreg’s side. He was alive. She had known that. She would have felt him die. The bindings on his leg and ribs remained intact. Kreg opened his eyes. “The kinmar?”

  “All slain,” Kaila said.

  “But the wolf?”

  “Wolf? Oh, the coyote. He is well, injured, but well. He has departed.”

  “Good,” Kreg said. “Pireth was right. They are not all...not all...”

  Kaila frowned. What had Kreg to do with The Guide? “Rest now.”

  “But...Three Oaks.” Kreg tried to rise. “These were just a few. There are more.”

  Kaila placed a hand on his forehead and pushed him gently back to the ground. “Rest, Kreg. There will be another time. We have done enough for now. All two people may do.”

  Kreg’s eyes closed. Kaila cradled his head in her lap. “Sleep, Kreg,” she said softly. “Rest. Recover. There will be time.”

  As Kreg’s breathing smoothed, losing the ragged edge of pain, Kaila’s thoughts ranged. She would need to make camp for the two of them. Their supplies were gone so she would need to find food. The forest, no doubt, would provide.

  #

  Two days later, a rider reached them, a young Knight, just starting to feel the Knightbond so that he could use it to find them.

  Two days had meant a world of difference to Kreg and Kaila. The magic could bind torn bodies together, could speed healing, but it could not replace spilled blood nor replace damaged tissues. Only rest and food could do that. Kaila’s snares along with wild onions and those fruits then ready kept them fed.

  “Greetings, Your Grace, Your Grace,” the rider said as he dismounted. Two other horses where tethered to his saddle, both with saddles and packs already prepared.

  “Greetings, Brion,” Kaila smiled at the young man. So very like his father.

  “I cannot stay,” Brion said. “The king has ordered the levies to find these renegade kinmar. I am to ride with them.”

  Kaila nodded. “And us?”

  “You are to continue. The mission to Shendar remains.”

  Kreg emerged from the small lean-to shelter Kaila had built. He nodded toward the horses. “Those are for us, then, I take it?”

  “They are,” Brion said. “The King bids me ask you not to lose these. We do not have so many horses fit to carry knights of your size.”

  Kreg laughed. “We’ll try not to.”

  “And so—“ Brion mounted his horse. “—I bid you farewell.”

  “And fare you well, Sir Brion,” Kaila said.

  Kreg raised a hand. "A moment, Sir Brion."

  Brion cocked his head and waited.

  "Be sure that the ones you punish are truly guilty," Kreg said.

  "Your Grace...kinmar."

  Kreg nodded. "Kinmar. But one, at least, aided us. There may be others who would if given the chance. They are not all irredeemable. Let wisdom temper justice."

  "I will heed your words, Your Grace. And now, farewell." He reined his horse around and kicked it into a trot.

  “And you?” Kreg said, once Brion had gone. “You are well?” His eyes dropped for a moment, then lifted to meet hers.

  “The babe is well. He will grow great in heart like his father.”

  Kreg lifted a hand to her cheek. “And strong, like his mother.”

  “It is my thought—“ Kaila smiled. “that we need not leave this place just yet.”

  ###

  About the Author

  David L. Burkhe
ad is an Indiana writer of Science Fiction and Fantasy. He has also written on technical topics for The World & I magazine and High Technology Careers.

  In addition to his writing, he works in a consulting laboratory in Atomic Force Microscopy and Nanotechnology. His work ranges from measuring samples in the Atomic Force Microscope (AFM) to refurbishing used AFM's for resale to writing software for measurement of AFM images. More than half the DVD production in the world, and the development of Blu-Ray, is supported using measurement software he wrote.

  David L. Burkhead is one of the originators of the SpaceCub concept. In 1994 David and Geoffrey Landis proposed SpaceCub, a reusable manned suborbital rocket that would carry human passengers into space and back again. SpaceCub was intended for tourism and "thrill rides." In this way SpaceCub provided a model for private businesses to make money in suborbital flight, an approach that could, with incremental improvements, lead to private manned orbital flight.

  David and Geoff presented the SpaceCub concept at the 1994 Northeast Space Development Conference, the 1995 International Space Development Conference, and other venues. Short articles appeared in Popular Mechanics and the Brazilian magazine Istoé and David was interviewed about SpaceCub for an AAAS radio broadcast. Shortly after these events, other people started talking about reusable, suborbital rockets to carry humans into space. As a direct consequence, Peter Diamandis created the X‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑Prize foundation and the original Ansari X‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑Prize. The prize goal could have been taken directly from SpaceCub's proposed specifications: a reusable rocket carrying passengers to an altitude of 100 km. This prize lead directly to the development and successful flight of Dick Rutan's SpaceShip One and to the ongoing work by the Rutan's and Richard Branson's Virgin Galactic. Rutan and Branson, in offering private suborbital tourist flights, continues the model originated with SpaceCub.

  Other works by David L. Burkhead

  "Jilka and the Evil Wizard", Marion Zimmer Bradley's Fantasy Magazine, Winter '91

 

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