by Dana Davis
Pim started for the window and Saldia managed to latch onto her cloak and haul her back. “You stay put. We might need a runner.” Pim started to open her mouth in protest. The little snit had become quite bold since being oathed. “Cass.”
The truth-seeker stepped forward and pulled Pim to her side. The girl obeyed and Saldia focused on Taniras again. She ignored the soft sounds of the children playing nearby until one of the younger ones let out a squeal.
Lacy rushed to the little one and hushed her. “She’s excited by visitors. I’ll keep her quiet.”
Saldia studied the children. “Shouldn’t they be in bed?”
“They won’t sleep just yet. Too much excitement. We never have more than one or two guests in the house, usually whores.”
“All right. Keep them quiet. Get them to sleep if you can.”
Lacy nodded and began to put the smaller children onto one of the beds.
Valda started toward the doorway and one of the twins silently stepped in her path. She gazed up nervously at the towering guard. “I should lock the door.”
Snowy moved from his wife’s side. “Already taken care of. Now, please stay put. We may need your assistance with wounded.”
Saldia tried to keep the shock from her face at the man’s words, but he was correct. Any one of them could be injured or killed in such a conquest. They were Gypsies, not gods. These middlings were unpredictable. And only the Goddess knew what would happen next.
Taniras growled again. “Negotiations aren’t going well. Not well at all. They have weapons.”
Saldia’s heart thumped against her ribs and she fought the urge to count the beats.
Chapter 10
Only the pregnant moon above provided illumination. Xiath had led a small group to the other end of the hamlet, where he now waited in the shadows to get a clear beeline to the next alley. They needed to get back to the others. Taniras’s wolves had assisted his group and together they’d corralled the middling womenfolk and children into one of the alleys. The wolves had kept them contained there until they could herd them to Saldia for safekeeping. He wondered how the shade walker’s group fared. They had no way to communicate now that the wolves were no longer in sight.
Suddenly, the hamlet street lit up with blinding Energy. After a heartbeat, Xiath saw each person that made up the resisting mob of village men. Several streams of sparking flashed from the yellow crystal in Haranda’s hand before she ducked back behind the safety of Siri’s Energy shield. Xiath heard several middlings scramble out of the way but the unlucky ones screamed as the smell of burnt flesh penetrated his nose. Thankfully, Haranda used the yellow unification crystal and not the orange, which could slice a mountain in two with enough kin to feed it. As it was, the yellow could melt flesh from a body and burn buildings to cinders.
Several villagers had fled from earlier Energy demonstrations, but others, like this mob of at least thirty, stayed behind to resist. Just before dark, a few men had laid down weapons and surrendered only to be struck down by their own.
Xiath watched the Energy unification display as Siri’s great bubble pulsed with red light and lit up those within its shelter. Arrows bounced off harmlessly in a sight that should have made even grown middlings wet themselves.
“Get back!” Birek shouted.
A strong hand grabbed Xiath’s arm and jerked him into one of the alleys as an arrow whistled past. He turned to thank the mountainous man, LePon, but two villagers, who must have doubled back, sent arrows toward them again.
He could sense them but couldn’t see them. There were only two, though. “Where?”
Birek took hold of his right arm and aimed it in the darkness away from the mob. Xiath fired back with several white sparks, one after the other. The archers in his small group sent their own arrows whistling out into the moonlit darkness and the counter assault continued until the two middlings hit the ground motionless. Through the Energy, Xiath felt their life heat dissipate. Thank the Goddess they had Gypsies with nightsight among them. But he wasn’t certain how well that sight worked with the light Haranda’s group created.
He had to get his group back to safety. Again, he worried over the middling women and children. Most had been so beaten down by life in this hamlet that they didn’t even put up a struggle. Saldia could manage them. She had to.
“Stay close,” Xiath told his group, which consisted of Birek, LePon, Siri’s mate LeChamb, and three hunter servants. “After the next wave, run for Siri. Get inside that bubble.” How could such a hamlet have so many archers? At least ten had bows and arrows. Another ten used slingshots and rocks. The rest threw whatever they could get their grimy, middling hands on, axes, rakes, rocks—even a horseshoe or two had been flung at them. And why were these middlings stupid enough to fight? Especially in this bloody cold?
Shouts of angry hamlet men meant their attention was on the Energy bubbles, and Xiath’s group ran to the next alley, boots slipping on the icy cobblestones. They managed to get to there without anyone noticing. Siri kept a section of the shield as large as a doorway open for weapon fire and retrieval as the large group of kin advanced farther into the hamlet. That shield was their only chance for safety. The next wave of arrows whistled in the air and Xiath’s group ran toward the giant bubble. Denya fell and cursed but LePon picked her up almost immediately, and Xiath ushered the others in ahead of him. He took a step toward the opening of the shield, knowing that Haranda would need his added sparking strength.
Someone pulled him aside but not before he heard the whistle of another assault. A sharp pain stabbed his left shoulder despite the Energy he harnessed, and he fell to the icy street, moaning. Someone dragged him within the safety of the shield. The Energy couldn’t put all the pain at a distance and he rocked with the fire in his shoulder.
“Keep still,” he heard Predula say. She must have left her post to tend to him.
“No. Ah! I’ll be fine. Get back to your position.”
“Hush. I have to get that arrow out first. Are you harnessing?”
He nodded.
The healer pushed a leather belt between his teeth. “Bite. Hold him.”
Several strong hands restrained Xiath but he wasn’t prepared for the fire that ripped through his shoulder when Predula removed the arrow, and he screamed out, dropping the belt and fighting against the hands. Darkness threatened to close in on him but he held onto the Energy out of pure desperation.
What would the pain be like without it? Unbearable, no doubt. He thought of Pim and all that she had endured at Tandiar River, an arrow, infection and maggots before Thad healed her, and he had a growing respect for the new-oathed girl.
Brak had taken an axe blade in his right forearm at the beginning of this battle, sliced enough to need several stitches, but he still fought with his kin. They couldn’t afford any of the servants falling asleep as a result of healing. Why had these hamlet middlings been so stubborn? They should have taken the offered money and cooperated. Or at least left the hamlet peaceably.
Something else nagged at him. Farmers and merchants didn’t have fighting skills. Someone had organized and trained them. But who? Predula’s lilac healing Energy flooded him and he realized just how deep the arrow had split flesh and muscle. Luckily, it had missed any organs. After several heartbeats, he was healed and a bit tired, but the pain was gone. When he opened his eyes, he lay on a hastily placed blanket on the cobblestones, and gazed up at LePon, who smiled like a fool in the red light of the Energy shield. Siri and the others strained with the efforts of unification. Birek aimed Haranda’s hand through the opening, and she struck out with effort etching her features. This couldn’t go on much longer.
Xiath sat with LePon’s assistance. Where was Predula? Then he saw her with Siri, lending her strength to the red crystal. “Are the hunters and guards ready for another assault?” he said to the mountainous Bankari man.
“They’re ready. Elder Finlor wants to make certain you’re all right.”
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nbsp; With one large hand, LePon pulled him upright and steadied him. Blood soaked the melting ice at his feet but the heat inside the shield kept him from shivering. “Yes, yes. Tell him. Go!”
LePon must have signaled the Elder because the next thing Xiath heard was Finlor’s harsh voice. “Haranda, halt!” Her group stopped sparking. “Hand assault! Ready your weapons!” Gypsy hunters, guards and anyone who could manage a bow took places near the opening as it widened to accommodate them. “Loose!” Arrows swished through the opening. Several middlings cried out. “Haranda, now!”
Xiath squeezed his way between Zarenia and one of the Sages and grabbed onto Haranda’s shoulder to add his strength to the sparking group. He immediately felt the Energy surge from him. The strain made his legs tremble but he managed to stay upright. Haranda fired at Birek’s commands and more middlings screamed. Fewer and fewer arrows bounced off Siri’s shield until finally there were no more.
Xiath could sense the middlings had been defeated. Most had fallen and the few who remained upright were headed the opposite direction at a quickening pace. Finlor waited until they were certain no more middlings would fight before he called off the assault. When the Energy rushed from Xiath’s body, Haranda collapsed in his weakened arms, taking them both to the cold stones. LePon lifted the unconscious woman and cradled her like a small child. Greges looped Xiath’s right arm over his shoulder, while Wren wormed her way under his left. He gave a weak smile to his bedfriend and she kissed him lightly on the lips. No words passed between them. No need.
Other servants assisted the rest of the weakened kin. Siri’s bubble no longer protected them but there didn’t seem a need for it. The streets were quiet except for shuffling of kin along the icy cobblestones. Xiath tried to harness the Energy but, as expected, he couldn’t. No one who’d worked with the crystals would be able to harness until at least sunup, or longer. What Xiath wanted now was food and sleep, not necessarily in that order. Lanterns were lit and servants surrounded them to create a body shield as they advanced on the middlings.
Bodies lay in unnatural positions. Blood frozen in the icy street appeared almost black beneath the moon’s pale light. Steam from those who’d been opened by someone’s weapon rose in the cold air, and several were burnt beyond description from Haranda’s wrath. The stench of death and feces hung in the air, and Xiath turned his attention to whimpering behind him. Ryder. No longer an errant – Ryder had been oathed recently – and he now leaned against his cane with one hand over his face. Xiath didn’t wish anyone the ability to see Death.
Wren gave the old man a troubled look but she could do nothing to calm him, and Xiath knew that bothered her. She prided herself on her talents with the Energy, though she spoke modestly of them. There hadn’t been another Gypsy with her combined Energies of urging, mind-healing, slumbering and calming in a very long while. He pulled her closer and she relaxed a bit beneath his embrace.
Greges said not a word as he kept Xiath steady and on his feet. He hadn’t changed much since coming to the Land of the Goddess with Taniras and the others from Maricar a year ago. He was still quite the jester and enjoyed chasing servant women. Only now, his dark face looked drawn and he concentrated on his steps.
Several wolves paced in the shadows as howls filled the distant air. Most kin walked, and some carried others toward the large building Saldia’s group had sequestered. They would have to secure the hamlet before sending runners back to the camp. They needed a place to keep prisoners, as well, until they could be persuaded to take the oaths. With Wren tucked comfortably beneath one arm and Greges supporting him, Xiath took slow steps, eyes darting side to side for danger. They made it just two buildings from Saldia’s when a man, cloaked and hooded, stepped into the street. The kin stopped, guards and hunters tightening their body shields.
Something ominous about the figure made Xiath’s blood rush. Could this be the man Cass felt? His own truth-seeking abilities were so slight he couldn’t distinguish a tiny lie from great evil. To him, the entire hamlet stunk of wickedness, as did many villages. A murderous middling, perhaps. If so, then he would be well armed beneath that cloak.
“You’re not welcome here!” a gruff voice boomed from beneath the hood. “Go home, Gypsies!”
Finlor stepped forward, flanked by two Bankari, the largest guards next to Muroth and Murel, and the hooded figure took a step back. So, he feared kin, did he? That might give them an advantage.
“We’re not going anyplace,” the Elder told the stranger. “We offered a trade of money for services but you men decided to fight. Those who didn’t run are now dead.” He spoke without pride, without malice. Simple facts.
“This is my hamlet! Blood-sucking Gypsy dung! Or do you bring your women here to whore? We can make a deal then.”
Xiath wanted to slam the stranger’s face into the cobblestones at his feet. A face he hadn’t yet seen. Wren stiffened beneath his arm but she said nothing.
“We don’t whore anyone.” Finlor kept control Xiath thought him not capable of just now. The stout Elder often lost his temper when danger rose to greet him. Yet, he sounded almost serene.
The cloaked figure’s voice took on a mocking lilt. “You have some fine women among you. I could make a lot of coins off them.” The Elder didn’t respond. “If you don’t leave, I’ll get very testy. Don’t think you can use the Energy on me, idiot Gypsies. I know how those crystals drain you.”
Full Gypsies and Sages said nothing but several new-oathed whispered. Finlor hushed them. “If you know so much about us, then you must have once been in contact with us. Join us. Take the oaths and we won’t harm you.”
The cloaked figure gave a sputtered laugh. “A very amusing thought.” He reached a hand from his cloak and those kin who were armed aimed weapons. A yellow spark exited his fingers and created an orb that floated just above his head.
An errant? He must have the ability to hide his Energy with a hedge, the way Ryder had learned. The old man was still teaching the kin how to do that. It took a lot of control and patience. Patience that came from long bouts of living alone. What else could this errant stranger do? They had no defense against his Energy now.
Xiath caught one of Taniras’s wolves out of his corner vision. Some in Saldia’s group could still harness. They needed to send a message. Finlor’s hands went behind his back and he flicked his fingers in the lantern light, an old hunter signal. One of the servants slipped back between the crowd of kin, no doubt to fetch Saldia’s group. But would this stranger feel the others through the awareness? Perhaps he didn’t think they were any threat. Or perhaps his Energy was slight and his awareness didn’t travel much beyond Finlor. Any who harnessed could create an orb.
“If you harness,” Finlor said, “then you are one of us. We welcome you to take the oaths.”
The stranger spat but said nothing. Finlor said nothing more. The kin held their tongues and they stood that way until Xiath’s feet and hands began to ache from the cold.
But a shadow moved in the street and a lone figure appeared behind the stranger. A dark, cloaked figure. A woman probably, from her size and gait. She stopped when the errant turned.
“So.” He raised his voice. “You try to sneak up on me, Gypsy? You must know I can feel you coming.” He took a couple of steps toward the woman but she didn’t move.
She was too slight for Saldia or Taniras. Without the awareness, Xiath couldn’t tell how strong she was in the Energy, either. But she had to be a new-oathed because all the full Gypsies and Sages were with Finlor. And so was the Guana youngling. He had lent his sparking Energy to Haranda. Maybe this was one of the servants.
Don’t do anything stupid, whoever you are. Several wolves loped up to the woman and put a barrier between her and the stranger. Taniras must be nearby. What in blazes is she up to?
Haranda began to wake and LePon set her on her feet behind Xiath and Wren. Predula explained in a low voice what had happened, and then there was silence except for sounds of bre
athing and an occasional sniffle. Xiath’s nose threatened to run but he ignored it.
The wolves began to close in on the stranger, and the hooded woman followed a few steps. They suddenly halted.
“You’re the singer, are you?” the errant man said in a mocking voice. Well, you don’t look large enough to be more than a child.”
If this man knew of the singer then he’d been taught the signs of Cholqhuin’s coming. Xiath felt Wren stiffen and he glanced at her. This man had already been oathed. Another traitor.
Goddess help us, how many are there?
The wolves and the woman took a few more steps and stopped again. “What’s the matter, Thombrele?” Tsianina placed a bitter emphasis on the man’s name, more emotion than Xiath had ever heard from her. The hooded figure sounded like Tsianina. But that couldn’t be. The island girl had no active Energy. She couldn’t protect herself. Certainly, Saldia or Taniras would forbid her from confronting this man. Had all the new-oathed lost their senses?
Her voice became hard. “Is your brain so rattled that you’ve forgotten me?” She pushed back her hood. There in the moonlight, Tsianina stood, her long dark hair braided down her back. “Or should I call you Lombreeth?”
Xiath wanted to smack himself in the head. That name Thombrele had seemed too familiar for comfort. Why had he not caught that simple anagram? Fatigue must have addled his brain.
Lombreeth gave a nervous laughed. “So, you joined with the Gypsies, did you? I’m surprised the Goddess would accept a whore. You still have that lovely scar on your inner thigh, my wife? Ah, that was a good night for me, our first together. You were so sweet and innocent. Tasted of flowers, you did.” His voice hardened. “You’re still bound to me in marriage. Don’t forget that.”