by Stephen Wolf
But she wasn’t done. After removing the blades, Gabrion put the wood down and lifted a fresh plank. This time he held it in front of his head. Kitalla threw three daggers at the wood and then followed them up with five more, creating the semblance of eyes, a nose, and a smile. Gabrion lifted two panels side by side, and Kitalla threw daggers from her left hand at one panel and simultaneously threw daggers at the other panel with her right hand. The result was a perfect circle and a perfect square. She bowed and then stepped over in Dariak’s direction.
She leaned over his table, whispering, “Be ready to run.” Then she waved a blindfold in the air as if he had given it to her. She wrapped the cloth around her eyes, as Gabrion stood ready, rather nervously, across the stage. Kitalla took her time with the throws, but none of them missed the board, even though she could not see. And not only did they all hit the board, they were arranged in a cross pattern.
The astounded audience was on its feet, clapping, pounding, and begging for more. Kitalla reclaimed her weapons, tucking most of them away, except for two. She tossed the blindfold into the crowd and bowed several times until the audience members settled themselves, after which she pranced playfully around the stage, spinning here and there as she went. Gabrion was still on the far side of the stage, but he wasn’t holding any more wood planks.
Kitalla’s jaunty moves made the crowd laugh after all the dexterity she had shown, and she twirled once more and stood at the back of the stage at the center. Her hands flew up quickly, and her knives raced to the ceiling, slicing through one of the ropes holding the bedsheets in place. The fabric swooped downward gracefully, and the audience crooned. Before its flight ended, though, she tossed two more daggers in an overhead arc, cutting the other main guide rope and dropping the fabric completely. When it fell, it entangled the three seated members of the king’s guard.
While the sheet was falling into place, Gabrion and Kitalla sprinted toward Dariak. Kitalla grabbed the bubbly tankard she had left on Dariak’s table, and as she ran, she spilled it on the floor, just to her right side. Gabrion and Dariak followed on her heels, not touching the liquid, and shoved patrons aside as they made their way to the doorway. The crowd jumped to its feet with the theatrical finish, except for the guards who understood the moves were diversionary. The three under the bedsheets missed the trio’s flight, but the two at the back wall acted at once and started navigating around the patrons to intercept them. Kitalla made sure she flung the tankard on the ground hard, so the pieces shattered, sending the rest of the liquid out in a wide pool. When the guards’ feet touched the liquid, they slipped and fell hard to the tavern floor, for it was heavily laced with soap and lard.
The horses were not at the tavern’s stable, for Kitalla had relocated them so the guards wouldn’t recognize them. It hadn’t taken her long to learn of their presence that morning, but she knew killing them would only make the hunt worse. Snubbing them by standing under their noses while blatantly out in the open was a much sweeter ploy anyway, in her opinion. She took her companions to the horses, where they mounted up and prepared to flee.
“My things!” Dariak protested.
Kitalla pointed at Gabrion, who tapped his excess belly with a grin. “Got it all, don’t worry. Where to, then, that cave?”
The thought of going to the cave both thrilled and horrified the mage. Though he would love to reunite with Randler as soon as possible, the guards would be right behind them, and bringing them to Randler’s secret lair was a betrayal he didn’t want to commit. “No,” he decided suddenly, remembering, “toward Pindington.”
Not caring why, Kitalla kicked her mare off, laughing as the guards raced after them on foot. “Thanks for coming to my show, boys!” she called out to them. With that, she put the horse to speed, heading east, with Gabrion and Dariak close behind.
Chapter 16
Nighttime Menace
Kitalla raced her mare toward the far eastern town of Pindington, with Dariak and Gabrion urging their own horses to keep up. They each glanced over their shoulders for signs of pursuit, and it wasn’t long before the guards followed on their own steeds. Pushing the horses hard, they moved away from Warringer into the dark night.
Deep howling echoed across the plain, quickly escorted by the sounds of massive paws beating into the dirt. The horses whinnied at the approaching beasts and struggled against their riders in terror. Kitalla’s mare came to a full stop, rearing its legs into the air and nearly throwing the tired thief to the ground.
“Tether the horses together,” Gabrion suggested.
“Great idea,” Kitalla scoffed. “Then one bolts and they all do.”
The howling echoed again, much closer than before, but it was hard to see in the darkness. “They’re going to panic anyway,” Gabrion insisted. “Better they stay together.” He brought his horse toward Dariak’s and reached for the reins, seeing that the mage had dismounted and was in the midst of a spell.
“Carianna notiosa domenia klei!” Dariak shouted after a few moments of wild gesturing. The ground underfoot started to glow ominously, illuminating the surrounding area so they could see the creatures stalking them.
“Fool,” Kitalla hissed, dismounting from her horse and preparing to fight.
“Shadows may be fine for you,” Dariak retorted, “but we need to see what we’re doing.”
Distant hooves approached from one side, as paws pounded from the other. The three companions brought their weapons about, linking the horses’ reins gently so they would stay close, but if they ran, they wouldn’t strangle one another either.
The illuminated ground gave Gabrion his first glimpse of a lupino. The beast was similar to a wolf in shape but had longer fangs and claws, wildly vibrant eyes, blue-tinted fur, and great agility. The massive paws looked powerful enough to swipe his head off in one shot. A long, barbed tail swished angrily back and forth as the glowing yellow eyes sized up the victims.
It wasn’t alone. Lupinoes always traveled in packs, usually of at least five. Each pack had a leader, but it wasn’t always the largest and strongest one. They had a strange sense of cunning, and the one with the greatest cunning was often respected the most. Though leadership was often determined through fighting and dominance, a well-placed bite and slash could immobilize a larger beast and end the struggle. Tails whipping expectantly, the pack drew close.
Dariak had already summoned the Shield of Delminor and his fire-dart spell as his instinctual defense. Kitalla scoured the six beasts, determined to pick out the leader and kill it first, hoping that would demoralize the others. The horses’ eyes were wide with panic, and once the first lupino lunged in, they fled north.
Two lupinoes attacked each of the companions, roaring their war cries as they pounded in. Gabrion, amazed by their speed, barely escaped being eviscerated on the first swipe. He twisted his body sharply, bringing his shield about and completing the spin to crack the sword into one of the beasts’ hides. The lupino howled in pain but didn’t hesitate as it landed on the ground and jumped again for the warrior’s throat. Its fellow lupino waited a moment and then lunged. Gabrion dodged the first creature and then threw himself on the ground as the second flew through the air. He tumbled desperately, righting himself at last and facing off against the monsters, better understanding their abilities.
Kitalla was exhausted from her performance, having drawn more energies about her in one session than she ever had before. Nonetheless, she was keen and sharp, and her daggers whipped around furiously at the attacking foes. One lupino jumped for her, and she ran toward it, rather than dodge aside, slashing upward and digging her blade into its forepaw and up into its underbelly. The monster screamed in agony and crashed to the ground in a heap, paws flailing to right itself and take revenge. Kitalla would have finished it off if not for the second lupino that charged her moments later. She tried to use the same tactic, but the agile creature had learned from its companio
n’s mistake, and the large fangs snapped wildly as it approached, preventing Kitalla from repeating the attack.
The thief rolled to the side and kicked out at the lupino’s rib, hoping emptily to knock the air out of it. She pushed herself up and threw one dagger sharply at the first target, catching it in the shoulder and causing another loud cry of agony to rend the night air. The distraction almost cost her, as the other beast pivoted sharply and nipped for her ankle. A fire dart struck the lupino in the face and saved her.
Dariak’s arms were wildly swinging about. When his two lupinoes targeted him, he stood his ground, trusting the power of the Shield of Delminor. He weaved about to ensure he avoided the claws, but otherwise he let the beasts crash into him. They fell to the illuminated earth, unable to lift themselves off the ground. Their hind legs and tails were free, however—as were their jaws—and so Dariak moved away from them quickly. He shot a few darts to help Gabrion, then some for Kitalla.
“Halt, cretins, you cannot escape the king’s wrath!” echoed an angry voice as the king’s guards rode in. The speaker pulled the reins of his horse just inside the illuminated circle on the ground, seeing at last the lupino threat. He called for his four companions to stop, debating whether they should let the beasts finish the work or intervene so they could take prisoners back to His Majesty.
The delay proved costly, and he realized his error too late. From the shadowy edge outside the ring of light, another lupino pounced and unhorsed him easily. He crashed to the ground, dead instantly. The fierce animal wasted no time and attacked the next rider, biting into the horse’s neck and flipping its rider over to crash headfirst into the ground, snapping his neck. The youngest soldier among them was paralyzed in terror and survived only because his horse screamed and ran from the fray, taking the rider swiftly back to Warringer.
Two guards remained. They dropped to the ground for better dexterity, rather than wrestling with their frightened horses. Freed of control, the horses ran off, smelling the death of the gutted horse and not wishing to share its fate. A lupino bit one guard in the leg and took a sword thrust to its side. Wrenching hard, the man toppled, but the beast couldn’t finish him off, as the other guard stepped in and dug his own blade into the creature’s flank. Growling in pain, the lupino rolled on the ground, pulling the guard’s leg over itself and raking his body with its powerful claws. The guard was finished, but the creature also met its end as the other guard punctured its exposed belly. The death throes of the beast sent its hind legs into the soldier, stunning him temporarily.
There wasn’t much the mage could do other than distract the animals, for most of his spell components were in his robe, which was tucked inside Gabrion’s tunic. He needed an exterior fire source in order to ignite a proper fireball, and so he was left with his darts. He could feel the Shield of Delminor starting to fade, and his two foes would soon be able to rise from their heavy state and destroy him. He tried getting in close enough to stick his dagger behind one creature’s skull, but it was able to thrash around just enough to make it impossible. On a second attempt, he learned the hard way that their spiked tails not only hurt, they were poisoned.
Very quickly, the feeling went out of his entire right arm, as if each beat of his heart thrust the poison through. He could no longer send out sparks with his right arm, so he backed off and focused all of his strength on launching stronger bolts from the left. Then a blood-curdling cry sounded from Gabrion, and he turned to see what had happened.
The warrior was on his back, covered in blood, screaming out fiercely. He clutched his shield in one hand and still maintained his grip on the sword in the other. He yelled again and rolled up to his feet, looking around for his next target. Apparently, it had been a call of triumph, for the two lupinoes he’d faced lay in heaps on the ground. Gabrion wasted no more time; he ran over to Dariak’s side and hacked quickly at the two ensorcelled creatures, immediately ending their threat as well.
Kitalla needed help. She was using her dance moves to confuse the beasts, but they didn’t work nearly as well as on humans. Still, they were enough of a distraction to allow her to escape the beasts’ attacks, as the wounded lupino tromped slowly, while the other one skated in circles. When the motion fit the dance, she loosed daggers at the beasts, but they were often able to swat or bite them away. It was clear that she was running low on stamina.
Dariak fired off a few remaining fire darts and infuriated the two lupinoes, but it was Gabrion who charged forth and did the killing. He took out the wounded one first, rushing in with a loud yell and pouncing into the air, hacking at its head and thrusting his sword in through the creature’s eye. The final lupino knew it couldn’t win, but neither could it escape. Fire struck its paw, daggers hit its flank, and a warrior landed on its back, grabbing on to the dark-blue fur. The lupino thrashed wildly about, trying to unseat the man, but he squeezed his legs tight, slashing the sword backward and lopping off its tail, then turning the blade around to strike a killing blow. The beast denied its mortality for as long as it could, but then it crumpled to the ground, and Gabrion rolled away to safety.
They listened carefully and could hear another set of heavy paws hitting the dirt, but the steps were in retreat. Apparently, with the first line taken care of, the lupino leader decided this group was too fierce, taking the rest of its pack away.
Kitalla belted out her best summoning whistle, hoping her mare would hear it and return, preferably with the others in tow. She hadn’t had much time to bond with or train the horse, but it was worth the attempt.
Dariak waved off help as he pointed over his shoulder, and Gabrion walked over to the last remaining member of the king’s guard. Sword in hand, he waited as the man rolled over and stood up.
The guard dropped his weapon and placed his hands behind his head. “I cannot take you in, but please spare me. I have children.”
“Kill him!” came a wild cry from Kitalla, and whether she was serious or calling out for effect, Gabrion didn’t know.
“Please don’t!” the man cried. “I am Hernior from Kaison, member of the king’s royal guard. I admit we were to find and capture you, but we could not.”
Kitalla hobbled over, having been cut and slashed in a few places. She held a dagger in her hand, eyeing it strangely in the pale light that was starting to fade. “Yes, yes, of course you couldn’t. You didn’t even recognize us when we were right in front of you. Maybe we shouldn’t leave anything recognizable of you.” She lunged forward, but Gabrion grabbed her shoulder.
“No,” the warrior said calmly. Kitalla stiffened, but then the horses came trotting back, and she shrugged, going off to tend to them.
“What will you do with me?” the man asked.
Dariak wandered over, trying to massage feeling back into his arm. He examined the warrior and the odd expression on his face. “What is it?”
“I’m not going to live my life on the run,” Gabrion said. “I went to Kaison to see the king in order to tell him that my town was attacked by Hathrens. He unjustly threw me in prison because I wouldn’t kill you. And he ignored my call for help. Mira awaits, in enemy hands, and I cannot go to her because we are pursued. This must end.”
“Please, sir, I will testify to the king of your worth!” Hernior begged desperately. “I will do anything!”
“Just kill him already,” Kitalla called, and this time Gabrion could hear a tone of humor in her voice. She knew he wouldn’t do it.
Gabrion stared coldly at the man. “How much is your life worth?”
Wide-eyed, the guard looked up at the taller warrior. “Everything, good sir. Release me, and I will do whatever I can, the best that I can. I swear on my son, Erion, and daughter, Seliema.”
“How old are they?” Gabrion asked.
“Erion is six. Seliema is four. Please, their mother died of fever three years ago. I cannot leave them alone!”
Kitalla walked
over, lightly holding the reins of the horses. “Well, you left them long enough to go on a manhunt after a group of people who killed many of your brothers. You left for an indeterminate period of time and with no promise of return.” She let her voice hang.
“The king ordered us to go!” he pleaded. “I would have chosen to remain at—”
“Enough,” Gabrion cut in. “Listen carefully, Hernior.” He added the name specifically to let the man know he had been paying attention to the details. “One of your group fled the battle. He will undoubtedly go for help, even if it means pleading with our merciless king. You must stop him. Convince him to leave this search undone. We were slaughtered by these creatures, and there was nothing left of us worth bringing back.
“And on the way, you will detour to Savvron. Speak to the oldest men and women you find. See the carnage that happened there, and report it to the king as well. He might listen to one of his soldiers if not one of his peasants.”
Kitalla groaned. “We don’t know that he’ll actually do it.”
“I will! I promise!” the man groveled.
“Of course he will,” Gabrion declared with certainty. “He has given us the names of his children. We know for whom he works. And he knows that we’re able to escape notice if we so desire, even when one of us draws everyone’s full attention, his included. He knows we’re ruthless when we need to be. And we all know what he looks like. We’ll find him if he doesn’t do as required.”