“Why?” Vladimir asked without taking his eyes off the strange swordsman.
“He’ll kill us all.”
“You know him?” Vladimir said, his brows furrowed.
Julian took a few steps forward. “Kian?”
The swordsman stared at him, his head tilting to the side.
“Do I know you?”
“It is Julian.”
The warrior paused a moment, then lowered his sword. “You have grown.”
Leaving the path, they found a small pond surrounded by a stand of trees. A deep channel had been cut into the soil from the rain water that ran down from the higher ground. The runoff fed the shallow body of water frequently and kept it from drying out. Animal tracks could be seen circling the pool, most likely from herdsmen using it as a water source when they drove their sheep and cattle to market. The ground of the small gully was damp, but it was deep enough to offer the travelers good cover if they squatted down.
Julian had not stopped talking since they had taken refuge in the eroded ditch. He told the story of how this Kian had taken him to Phlosha as a boy, and then he explained to the strange swordsman the state of affairs in Trimenia. He introduced all of them to the dangerous looking warrior, saving her for last. “And this is Princess Pepca, the youngest of the royal family, and the reason Vladimir and I are not swinging from a rope.”
Pepca stood and brushed the loose soil from her wet backside. She offered Kian her hand, but the swordsman knelt and put his fist on his chest. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Your Highness.”
The act caught her off guard and she just stood there with her mouth open and hand still extended looking like a dolt. Julian jostled her before she realized Kian was waiting for her to tell him to rise.
Grigore frowned and pointed to Kian’s ears. “You are elven.”
Julian laughed at the observation, but no one else did.
Pepca had never seen an elf, though the revelation helped explain the warrior’s exotic visage. She knew that the elves of Sylonia sometimes crossed the mountains and tried to trade with the Tinkers, despite the fact they often had little success dealing with the wandering bands. Elves were despised in Trimenia, just as they were everywhere else, but especially by the leaders of the Church who often advocated their eradication. She had been told the elven race was slow-witted and wicked, but this Kian seemed to be neither.
“My mother was elven,” Kian said, glancing at Grigore.
“I have run across more than a few elves in my time, but never have I seen a half-breed or otherwise with golden eyes and a set of fangs like a mountain lion,” Grigore said rudely.
Julian looked at the large man and frowned, then turned his attention back to the warrior. “I was going to ask you about that, Kian, just not in such an impolite manner. You do look different than the way I remember you.”
“It is a long story,” Kian said evenly.
“Why don’t you come with us? We are heading south. You can tell us on the way. Your traveling companions will be welcome in our camp,” Julian offered.
“Those two girls might be, but I don’t know how happy Constantine would be to have a half-breed in his camp,” Grigore muttered.
“Constantine needs every sword he can get, Grigore. Kian would be welcome, especially if he can fight as well as Julian claims,” Vladimir pointed out from where he sat dumping pebbles from his boot.
Julian nodded to Vladimir and faced Kian. “Come with us.”
“I cannot. These girls were victims of the inquisition and I plan to take them north, away from the Church’s influence, but I thank you for the offer. We’ll stay the night and part ways in the morning.” Kian waved to the young woman he called Tempest and she handed him a sack. “I have food we can share.”
They sat down in the gully and ate sparingly. It was clear Julian was disappointed by the swordsman’s rejection of his invitation, though it didn’t stop him from telling Kian about what had happened to him after they had separated in Phlosha. Pepca listened intently to Julian describe his childhood, and Kian didn’t interrupt once. The swordsman seemed just as intrigued by the young man’s story as she did.
When Julian finally finished, the half-elven warrior leaned back against the dirt bank. “I am glad you fared well after I left you, but I am sorry to hear about all the trouble with your kingdom. I hope your people can find a way to bring peace to the land.”
“So do I, but what about you? Did you find your family?”
Pepca could see the warrior’s expression darken. “My mother was dead and my brother…had changed.”
“I’m sorry,” Julian said.
“I thank you for your sympathy, Julian, but not all the years since we parted have been bad. I had a group of friends I traveled with for a time, but things became difficult and now I am on my own again.”
“Not all on your own,” Tempest declared.
Pepca grinned. She like the whited-haired girl. She and the child Tiresias were both very pretty, and Tempest had an extremely disarming smile and friendly manner.
Vladimir suggested everyone could use a little rest, and he would rather they travel after sunset. So they all sat in the ditch the rest of the afternoon. Pepca and Tempest took Tiresias to the wide end of the gully and sat by the edge of the tiny pond, watching the little girl entertain herself by tossing pieces of dirt into the muddy water.
Pepca guessed Tempest was near her age, or maybe a little older. She had taken a liking to her new acquaintance; the young woman had a wonderful sense of humor and was not the least bit shy. They spent the rest of the day talking and laughing. It was so good to laugh again; it seemed like forever since she had found anything amusing. Pepca enjoyed Tempest’s company so much, she almost forgot why she was sitting in the soggy ditch in the first place.
Shortly after the sun went down, they began to gather what little belongings the group had and made ready to move on. After a moment, she saw both Kian and Vladimir look to the north. “Riders are coming,” Vladimir whispered.
Julian moved to Vladimir’s side. “I see them.”
Pepca had to strain to see the torches moving towards them from the north.
“It’s at least a dozen men,” Kian said.
She had no idea how the warrior could know their number in the dark, but Pepca didn’t doubt the swordsman’s word.
“Get down and stay quiet,” Vladimir said.
Everyone obeyed, and they all watched the approaching lights from the little ditch as Vladimir and the golden-eyed swordsman peered into the night.
It wasn’t long before the torches were close enough that it was easy for everyone to see their yellow glow. They watched the torches stop once then move in their direction.
“Damn, they’re coming right for us,” Grigore said softly.
“Okay, Julian and I will handle this. It’s dark and we might be able to surprise them. Grigore, we were heading for the old hillside dugout. You and Trina take Pepca and wait for us there. If we’re not back by tomorrow night, move on.”
Grigore nodded and made ready to leave.
“You are neither armored nor well-armed,” Kian pointed out.
“We will make do,” Vladimir said confidently.
“I will help you if you wish it,” Kian offered
“It’s not your fight. Besides, it’s dark. You will be at a disadvantage.”
“Darkness does not hinder me,” the swordsman replied casually.
Vladimir glanced to Julian.
“It will be alright. I trust him,” the young man said, slapping Kian on the shoulder.
“Very well, I will accept your aid,” Vladimir said with a quick nod.
“Tempest, go with the princess and keep the little one close. When this is over, I will find you,” Kian commanded.
Sweeping Tiresias into her arms, Tempest moved towards where Grigore and Katrina stood.
Pepca reached out and grabbed Julian’s hand.
“Please be careful.” Th
e thought of something happening to him terrified her. She hardly knew anyone in the group but Julian, and she was afraid of what Katrina might do if Vladimir and Julian didn’t return.
“I promise everything will be fine. Just stay with the others.” He squeezed her hand and the three men moved out into the night.
She began to nibble at her fingernails, a habit her mother detested. It had been forever since she had gnawed at them so voraciously.
“Don’t worry, Princess, they will return soon. It is only a dozen men or so,” Tempest said almost lightheartedly.
“That’s twelve against three,” Pepca said, irritated by the girl’s lack of concern.
“Yes, Highness, but it is too few to trouble the Slayer.”
* * *
Kian moved out across the open ground without a sound, finding that his two companions moved as stealthily as he did. Neither seemed hindered by the lack of light. They stopped less than two hundred yards from the horsemen’s position. The enemy was moving slowly through the night, regularly leaning down and holding their torches close to the ground.
“They are trying to track us,” Vladimir whispered.
“And they’re doing a pretty good job of it,” Julian added.
Both Vladimir and Julian began to strip their clothing off. Kian’s brows furrowed, confused by their odd actions. The swordsmen glanced at Julian, taken back by what he was seeing.
“I don’t have time to explain, Kian, but you must not be afraid,” the young man said hurriedly. Julian was sweating and shaking despite the cool night air. “What you see may startle you,” he croaked.
Kian could tell his young friend was in pain. He watched as Julian fell on to his hands and knees, trying to stifle the screams trying to rip from his throat. The cords in his neck tightened, and Kian could see the muscles in the young man’s back and shoulders tense and contort.
Vladimir walked up beside him and stared down at the young man. “The change is painful.”
Kian heard Julian’s bones snap as his body began to convulse and alter its shape. It looked as if there was something alive inside his young friend, twisting and turning, trying to escape the confines of his skin. Kian stepped back quickly, his hand going to Silence’s hilt, as a large gray wolf appeared to tear out from the young man’s body. The beast stood at least three feet high at the shoulder. The wolf rubbed against his leg like a cat, and looked up at him knowingly, with the eyes of his friend.
Kian turned to Vladimir.
“I see you don’t spook easy.” The dark-haired Trimenian grinned.
“I have seen stranger things,” Kian whispered. “Who knows of this?”
“Katrina and Grigore know. That is why they didn’t protest when I said Julian and I would take care of our pursuit. Constantine knows as well, but that is all. Julian said I could trust you, so I must ask you to be silent about you have witnessed. Our…condition is not accepted by many.”
Kian put his hand on the wolf’s neck and looked into Julian’s eyes. The animal sniffed him and cocked its head.
“I know how to keep a secret,” Kian whispered, stroking Julian’s head.
Vladimir winced and crouched down on all fours, chuckling through his pain. “I didn’t tell you before, swordsman, but you and I have met before.”
Kian watched the dark-haired man transform just as Julian had, only much more rapidly. A massive black wolf stood before him, taller and heavier than the gray. He had seen the massive animal before.
Kian’s mind flashed back years ago to the day he and Julian were being chased by the wolves. It had been Vladimir that led the pack. He was the one who had bitten Julian and attempted to drag the boy away.
The animal glared at him with its human eyes and inhaled the air around Kian. One of its lips drew back in a snarl. Instinctively, Kian growled and bared his own fangs. The wolf sensed the soul of the great cat inside him.
“I see you can smell my secrets, Vladimir. I suggest you restrain you distaste for the moment.” Kian and the wolf circled each other once, both managing to control their instincts for the time being.
Without warning, the wolves darted away in the direction of the horsemen. Julian swung wide to the left and Vladimir to the right, leaving Kian to move directly at the band of sellswords. Kian’s heart raced as he ran with the wolves. Glancing to either side, he saw them sprinting through the dark, ears back and fangs exposed. It was all he could do to keep control of his feral thoughts; the animal inside him was giddy with anticipation. The hunt was on.
He could hear the horses whinny and snort as they approached. The animals could smell the predators coming. Drawing Silence, he leapt out of the dark and into the line of horsemen. Silence took two of the enemy’s heads before his feet hit the ground.
The wolves crashed into the horses simultaneously tearing and ripping with their claws and fangs. It was clear the pair of shapechangers had fought together before. The mercenary’s mounts went wild, the scent of their master’s blood and the wolves too much for them. They bucked and kicked, crazed with fear, many throwing their riders to the ground where they were quickly dispatched by the savage animals.
Kian effortlessly slaughtered another pair of the startled mercenaries before they could manage to mount a defense. In the soft light of the fallen torches, he moved through the sellswords like a whirlwind. The scent of the wolves launched him into his foes with an animalistic fury, the dark sword cleaving the life from each man he faced.
The battle was disappointingly short-lived for the beast inside him. Silence had left seven bodies at his feet, while his companions had killed the others as well as half the horses.
Both wolves padded up to him, their ears laid back and snouts covered with blood. Kian could tell the battle was over too quickly for them as well.
There had been revelations for all three men this night. Though he doubted Julian or Vladimir would speak to anyone of his inhuman nature, Kian needed to be sure. “I know what you sense in me. Like you, I ask that you keep what you know to yourselves. I am a poor liar so I will wait with you till you change. It will be easier to keep your secret from the princess and Tempest if we all return together and I don’t have to explain why I came back alone.”
Kian watched as the wolves slowly turned away from him and trotted off into the dark. He sheathed Silence and followed them into the night.
* * *
A few hours before sunrise, she and Tempest followed Grigore and Katrina into a grove of trees where the group stopped. Pepca was glad for the pause; her legs were nearly worn out. She didn’t know how Tempest had managed carrying Tiresias in her arms the entire time they had been walking. Pepca had offered to take the child to give the young woman a break, but the little girl had refused to be carried by anyone except Tempest.
There was an opening in the trees and a squat knobby hill loomed ahead. Mounds of brush and fallen limbs surrounded its base. Moving to one of the larger piles of dead foliage, the bald rebel laid down his hammer and began to clear the debris away. A hole appeared. It was hard to see in the dark, but it looked like a large hollow had been dug into the hillside.
Pepca followed Grigore and Katrina inside the black cavity, having to duck her head so she wouldn’t bump it on the dirt cave’s ceiling.
“We can light a fire in here,” Grigore said. “After the battle at Brova, we brought some of the wounded here. Vladimir had a few of us dig a small tunnel above the dugout to let the smoke out. We will just have to put it out before daybreak. The entrance can be concealed but smoke could be seen from a good distance.”
In a few minutes, the burly man had a very small fire going. The light revealed that the cave was larger than Pepca thought. It was narrow and not very tall, but she thought at least twenty men could fit inside. “It is lucky this was nearby,” she said.
“We have many of these throughout Trimenia, Scarecrow. We use them to keep hidden from the baron and your father’s soldiers.”
“I would not tell her the
se things, Grigore. If she ever returns to the palace, she will know where we hide,” Katrina said hatefully.
Pepca ignored the rebel’s crude comments and made her way toward the back of the cave to where Tempest was coaxing Tiresias to lie down. She saw Pepca and smiled. “That woman hates you.”
“I know. I don’t think I will ever convince her I am on her side.”
“You should stop trying to then,” Tempest said, brushing at the little girl’s tangled hair.
Pepca thought the advice was sound. She didn’t want to be the wretched woman’s friend anyway. She sat down beside Tempest, a little dirt from the crumbling wall falling down the back of her shirt. “I wish we knew if they were alright.”
Tempest shook her head. “You should try talking about something else. You’re starting to drive me mad. I told you a hundred times, Kian will bring Julian back to you.”
“I am worried about all of them, not just Julian.” Pepca felt her face get hot. She was glad for the dim light so Tempest couldn’t see her cheeks.
“It is alright, Highness. Julian is handsome, there no shame in wanting him.”
“I never said I wanted him.”
“You didn’t have to. I see how you move around him and how you speak his name. It is clear you’re quite smitten with him.”
Pepca giggled in spite of herself. “You’re right. I have loved Julian for a very long time. I just don’t think he sees me as a woman.”
“Then you need to show him you are.”
Pepca began to wring her hands at the thought. “I don’t know how.”
Tempest smiled. “I will help you if you would like, Majesty, at least as much as I can before I have to leave.”
“Yes, please. And you don’t have to call me highness or majesty, just Pepca is fine. Now tell me what I should do.”
Tiresias fell asleep on Tempest’s lap as the two young women talked about how to go about winning a man’s heart.
Voices woke her and she could see light coming from the entrance of the dugout. Looking over, she saw Tempest and Tiresias still asleep. The little girl was lying on the white-haired woman’s chest, snoring very softly. She must have crawled on Tempest after the two had fallen asleep.
The Star Of Saree Page 9