David left the hospital and followed the stragglers out of the gate to the airfield. The expectant crowd stood in small clusters and although most of the gathered people focused on the western horizon, David could see nothing bar the tops of the hills. The front was just over those hills but apart from a few curls of grey smoke twisting into the still air, there was little visible evidence. Unlike the wars David was used to, where the army would be sprawled over acres of land, their camp fires unavoidable in the night, men sleeping mere yards from where their fellows were killed, this war was very neat. It was long, stretching from the southern border of Delaluz many hundreds of miles to the south, a thin, jagged line tracing down the western edge of the Valley, keeping the enemy at bay not with might of numbers, but with might of technology and magic. When troops could be flown into a sagging frontline at an hour’s notice there was no need to camp right there. Flying the injured to the supply camps faster than they could be carried off the battlefield lent a greater measure of safety to the support personnel.
It was all very civilized, and impersonal. Did any of Tejon Company really know what they were fighting for? Did they understand the gravity of what they were doing, of how it impacted not only on themselves, but on the Alarians as well? David suspected if he asked these questions aloud, he’d be swamped with passionate rhetoric and military bravado, but no satisfactory answer. Damn it, he’d asked those questions back when wars had been intimate, bloody affairs, where you saw the eyes of your enemy and felt the sting of his blade, and no one had been able to answer him then, either.
Teeth gritted against the old arguments and memories of pain, David focused on his task.
Castillo was alone, puffing on his cigarillo as if his life depended on reducing it to a smouldering stub as fast as possible. His face, so open and happy watching the Valleymen fight, was closed down, tight with something close to dread. Furrowed brows over intent eyes ensured he wasn’t disturbed, even by the trio of Sacerdios standing a little distance from him.
Dina was one of them, head lowered as she spoke.
“Mage Suelo reports that the fighting has been intense today. There will be a lot of burns, as well as the regular shrapnel and blast wounds. Although Mage Suelo said nothing in regards to this, I believe there will be considerable close combat wounds. Sword and bullet injuries thanks to a failed frontal assault. We need to work fast and efficiently to get the worst cases to Mage Castillo. The superficial cuts and bullet wounds we can deal with ourselves. The burns and blast wounds go directly to Mage Castillo. Any questions?”
There were none, the Sacerdios swallowing the information with the gravity of the experienced.
“Sacerdio Dina.” David approached them. “May I have a word with you? It seems my business is with you, not the mage.”
“If you don’t mind, sir, any business is going to have to wait. We have a large number of injured coming in very shortly and I have to be here to perform triage.”
David glanced to the west, where the hills were still alone on the horizon. “I believe we have a few moments to talk. Mage Castillo said you had a list of all the treated—”
“Hey.”
Someone grabbed David’s arm and tried to pull him away from the Sacerdio. Instincts guiding him, David broke the hold and spun, sweeping back with his foot, taking out the man’s legs. He hit the ground on his back with a loud ‘ouf’. David followed him down into a crouch, balanced on the balls of his feet, the dagger from his belt at his assailant’s throat.
It was done in a matter of heartbeats. The Bone Mage lay on the ground, more shocked at how he’d ended up there than at the fact a sharp blade sat against his skin. The three Sacerdios stared, mouths agape.
David’s blood sizzled. He’d forgotten this. In his years in the cell the joy of the fight, the satisfaction of beating a foe, had dried up as his blood had dried up. It returned now, sharp and deadly as a sword, ugly and brutal as a firearm. His heart thumped with the exhilaration of it, his body singing with the need for more.
David forced his hand away from Castillo’s neck, returning the dagger to its sheath. He stood and held out a hand to the mage. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me.”
With a grimace, Castillo took the hand and David hauled him to his feet.
“You didn’t cut me, did you?” he asked, stretching his neck out for inspection. “I can’t heal myself, you realise.”
Dina stepped between them, her slender fingers checking the mage’s skin. “No damage.” Her tone clearly said there would have been trouble if the outcome had been otherwise.
“Thanks,” Castillo said.
“I thought Captain Meraz had spoken to you about not being so self-destructive.”
Castillo scowled at her. “How was I supposed to know he’d toss me about just for trying to talk to him?”
“Look at him, Mage Castillo. He’s bristling with weapons. A moment’s thought should have told you he isn’t just wearing them for show.”
“You should know better than to talk to a stranger about our patients without my authority.”
The fleeting expression of hurt on the Sacerdio’s face told David so much, but the mage seemed to miss it.
“I’m the Bone Mage in this outfit, Sacerdio Dina,” he carried on. “Perhaps you should remember that.”
Lips pursed tight against some emotion, Dina nodded. “Of course, Mage Castillo. May I go see to my duties now?”
He waved her away. Dina spun and re-joined her fellow Sacerdios, moving further away as they discussed the incident with indignant shock.
“I told you,” Castillo said to David, “I would talk to Dina about the list. I don’t appreciate you bypassing the chain of command. This is a military company and certain protocols must be observed.”
If Castillo really believed what he’d just sprouted, he would be wearing a military uniform, not leather pants and a worn, stained shirt. His boots would be military black and he wouldn’t have a mud-brick building where his hospital tent should be.
The man was hiding something. David’s description had sparked the mage’s recognition, and now he was being overly defensive.
“I’m sorry.” David’s eyes and tone said he wasn’t. “Don’t be hard on her, she didn’t tell me anything. I would appreciate it if you would talk to her about the matter of the soldier now. I’m in something of a hurry.”
“I’m sorry.” Castillo mimicked David’s tone perfectly. “But we’re in something of a war right now. Maybe you could come back when we’re not about to be inundated with dying soldiers.”
“How soon will they get here?” David asked.
“Very.”
There was still no sign of any movement from the front, so David hauled back and punched Castillo in the face.
The mage crashed to the ground, limp and dazed, nose bleeding. A shout went up from close by, echoed a moment later further away. Within moments, the Sacerdios were back, two crouching by the mage while Dina flew at David. He backed off as she bullied him away.
“You idiot,” she shouted, pushing him backwards. “He has to work on the wounded very shortly. What if he can’t focus his magic? People could die because of what you did.”
David saw an opening and grabbed her arms. He twisted her around, bringing her back against his chest, arms crossed in front of her, holding her tight. She struggled admirably, kicking and shouting.
“Let her go,” a woman commanded.
They were surrounded by a growing crowd as everyone forgot to watch for the incoming wounded and came to stare at the current spectacle.
“Ease off, friend,” the Fire Mage said, the crowd parting to let him through.
Castillo was moaning, trying to sit up only to fall back. The Sacerdios held him down, applying what little magic they commanded. He’d be back on his feet and able to protest soon.
“What the blazes is going on here?” Botello pushed his way through the gathering. “What happened to Castillo?”
“The stranger
.” The Fire Mage nodded toward David and Dina. “He hit Gabe and grabbed Dina.”
The Second-Lieutenant glared at David. “Unhand the Sacerdio and explain yourself.”
David tucked a mostly quiet Dina under one arm and pushed back his coat to reveal his badge. “No.”
Botello gritted his teeth, fists leaking a few impotent curls of smoke. A subtle chill stole around David and he glared at the Fire Mage, daring him to do anything while he still held Dina. The Fire Mage didn’t back down. Instead he drew in more heat from the air, a few flames dancing around his fingertips.
“I just have a few question for the Sacerdio,” David said, calm. “When I’m done, she’ll be free to help the mage see to the wounded. Any objections?” He directed the question at Botello, the senior officer on site.
Lips twisting in a snarl, Botello nodded, once only and sharp.
Dina gasped as David spun them around. He stared at the crowd until they parted. Urging Dina along, David walked them out of the circle. Dina held back scared sobs, trembling in his hold.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said, trying to sound sincere, knowing she was too frightened to hear it.
“Why did you do that?” she asked.
“He’s hiding something and I can’t let that interfere with my duty.” He stopped on the edge of the airfield and sat her down on one of the white painted rocks. “I need to ask you some questions about the wounded soldiers from the crash. Will you answer them?”
She just stared at him.
“I have the authority to ask you. You needn’t worry about Mage Castillo reporting you for disobeying his orders. I’m from the church.” He showed her the badge and she looked at it blankly. “If you wish, you can go straight to Captain Meraz once we’re done and tell her everything. She’ll see me punished if I’m out of line.”
“What…” Dina sucked in a deep breath. “What do you want to know?”
David described his prey, explaining that the boy wasn’t a trained soldier and needed to be found as quickly as possible.
“There was one young man,” she said hesitantly. “He fits your description. Just minor burns to his hands. I healed him myself. But he had no recognition stamp. I told Mage Castillo.”
“Did the mage report him to the captain?”
Dina bit her lip, then stopped the moment she realised she was doing it. “I’m not sure. He said he would talk to the soldier the next day. I don’t know if he did.”
He did. David was certain of it. Just as he knew Castillo hadn’t reported it. Did Castillo know who the boy was? What had the boy said to convince Castillo to keep his silence?
“Did any of the others act like they were close to this boy?” David asked her.
“There was one. Perhaps a little older than him, taller. Hovered over me worse than some mothers over their children.”
“Do you know where they are now?”
“All of the wounded from the troop carrier were taken to the front day before yesterday.”
David let her hand go and stood. “Thank you, Sacerdio Dina. You’ve helped me greatly.”
She remained seated. “What will you do now?”
“Go to war.”
David went back to the crowd. He found Second-Lieutenant Botello and motioned him away from the others, who glared at him with unreserved hatred. He’d assaulted two of the company, he deserved their animosity. It didn’t mean he cared about it, though.
“I need to get to the frontline as quickly as possible,” he said to Botello. “How are you going to make that happen?”
To give him credit, Botello didn’t waste time on pointless questions or posturing. “The dirigibles coming in with the wounded will return as soon as they’re unloaded. You can ride back with one of them.”
“Good. Return to your duty.”
Botello clenched his square jaw. “You might have the authority of the church behind you, but that doesn’t give you permission to risk lives by hurting our Bone Mage. I’ll make sure the captain hears all about this.”
“The Sacerdios will have the Bone Mage set to rights by now. He’ll be fine by the time the wounded arrive. Don’t think I don’t understand the importance of a Bone Mage. Right now, he’s more vital to this war effort than you are. Don’t forget that.”
Leaving Botello to stew in his own self-inflated offence, David walked away from the company personnel. None of them would suffer his closeness. He found himself next to the tall native Castillo had been speaking with at the fight circle. The Valleyman grinned at him, his yellow teeth startling against his dark skin.
“You dance good.” The man’s accent was non-existent but his command of the language was incomplete.
“I just dropped a friend of yours,” David reminded him. “You don’t want to defend him?”
The native brushed at his shoulder, as if dislodging something. “You had need. You do what you do. Ndargo strong. He recover.” He thrust his hand at David, arm out straight. “I Kimotak.”
David took the hand and shook it. “I’m David.”
“David.” Kimotak sounded out the word, making sure he got it right.
Damn. He’d given his name. After being so careful, he had to mess up now. If Kimotak was this chatty with strangers, he must be downright unstoppable with someone he knew, like the Bone Mage.
“Kimotak, I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone my name. Otherwise, we might just have to dance.”
Kimotak laughed. “Maybe I tell just to dance with you.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
Before he could respond, Kimotak titled his head. “Here come flyers.” His mouth turned down in sadness. “Lot of flyers.”
David concentrated but couldn’t hear anything. He squinted into the west and after a long moment, finally saw the dirigibles. They were small and sleek, speeding over the top of the hills, arrowing for the camp.
Cries went up from the welcoming committee and Kimotak and his fellow stretcher bearers hurried into position at the edge of the airfield. David wandered a little closer now that attentions were fixed elsewhere. Castillo was on his feet, his nose straight, clean of blood and only lightly bruised. Dina stood close by him, equal parts protective and timid.
As if sensing him, Castillo turned unerringly and looked at David. His anger was clear in his narrowed eyes, clenched jaw. The fingers on his left hand curled and uncurled and David felt a flutter in his chest. It was as if the Bone Mage touched him, sending his magic into David’s body, but that was impossible. No Bone Mage could use their magic without touching. The sensation clawed a little deeper, then jerked back, like a hand held too close to a flame.
So far away, the Bone Mage’s anger evaporated. He gaped at David, stunned, and a touch scared.
David swallowed his confusion and didn’t change his expression. Whatever had happened was a surprise to the Bone Mage, as well, but David wasn’t about to admit he’d felt anything. The less he had to do with any of these people, the better. He had a task to do and that was all.
The dirigibles were almost upon them, sweeping in low, engines whining. The first came in to land. Dust blew up in a storm around it, coiling away from the engines like small tornadoes. The Delaluzians covered their heads with hands and hats, turning against the worst of it. The Valleymen, however, rushed forward, reaching the gondola as it hit the cradle. Some jumped up and swung over the sides of the gondola, others waited as the loading ramp was lowered. The injured were brought out and carried to where Castillo and his Sacerdios waited. A second airship came in to land.
David waited until no more wounded appeared from the first dirigible, then ran for it. Its engines were winding back up to full power, men leaning over the sides to haul closed the ramp as the gondola quivered and trembled on the brink of lift-off. David jumped at the last moment and caught the edge of a ramp.
“Hey, get off,” someone shouted from above.
David slung himself onto the upward tilted ramp. He tucked and rolled down int
o the gondola.
“What?” another person gasped, then David careened into her and they tumbled into the wall.
Extracting himself from the tangle of arms and legs, David stood and found four very confused people staring at him. The gondola shuddered and then they were off the ground, moving up at a rapid pace, engines screaming. Everyone staggered, reaching for something to hold on to. David almost hit the deck again, but caught himself on the wall before he could crush the woman he’d knocked over. She was shouting at him, but it was hard to hear her over the engines.
There was little insulation to the gondola, the engines sitting behind a thin wall. The deck above them was open, just a rim around the edge wide enough for a well-balanced person to walk. The walls were lined with wooden benches, three high on each side. In the middle ropes hung from A frames.
The airship was built for speed, hence the lack of luxuries. It carried wounded on the shelves, and severe cases were probably on stretchers suspended in the middle, so the vibrations of the hull wouldn’t aggravate their injuries.
“Up,” a man shouted in David’s ear, pointing to the upper deck.
David followed the man as he clambered up the shelves, reached for the walkway above and hauled himself over. It was quieter up here, the engines somewhat muffled, but the wind created by their speed almost negated the advantage.
“Are you mad?” The man held onto a rigging line for stability.
“It’s one of the theories,” David replied.
The pilot sat at the rear of the gondola, on a raised platform, wheel in his hands, a long-glass mounted on a swivel by his head. Overhead, the narrow balloon was different to that of the dirigible David had come south on. It seemed harder, more fixed, and he could just make out the shape of struts within it.
“The balloon needs more support when we go this fast,” the man told him. “It’s semi-rigid. Now you tell me something I don’t know. What the damn are you doing jumping on my ship like that?”
“I need to get to the front,” David shouted back.
“You’re about the only one who’d risk his life to go back there. Who are you? You don’t look military.”
Dead Bones Page 14