The two of them had become fast friends. She listened nightly to the young royal prattle on about Julian. Even though Pepca had discovered the handsome man was cursed, the princess’s love for him was undaunted. Tempest hoped one day she might feel that way about someone. To love a person, no matter what, must be a fine thing.
Tempest knew she would likely never have a family; there weren’t many young men that would want anything to do with a woman who carried black blood in her veins. Besides, most men weren’t very kind, aside from Kian anyway. For now, she was content to have friends, and planned to make the most of that while she could.
The snow crunched behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, Tempest saw Endra’s older sons coming her way. She didn’t know Payton or Vinsant very well. Both were at least three years younger than her, though they were much taller. The two boys spent most of their time with the Sons of the Reaper, seldom visiting the camp since Kian and Endra had been gone. They wore the same garb as the mercenaries of the company, and fine swords hung from their belts.
Sometimes she wondered about Endra’s mothering. Neither of her sons was old enough to be counted as a man, yet Endra allowed them to act as if they were. Tempest hadn’t known the woman long and didn’t have any contempt for her on the subject. It was likely very hard raising children among a company of sellswords. She guessed boys had to grow up fast in that kind of setting. It was just odd to her that they were given such free rein.
She knew the two boys were part of a set of triplets. Tempest had been told that their sister Tressa was in Bandara, staying with the famed Phoenix Queen. Pepca was a princess, but she didn’t seem like royalty. Tempest couldn’t imagine even being in the presence of someone like the Phoenix of Bandara.
“What are you doing?” Vinsant asked, bringing her thoughts back to the present. He was the taller of the two, his hair was long, and lighter that his brothers, and he favored his mother. She had seen the boy working around the camp. He was as strong as many of the grown men, and seemed very diligent.
“Dressing these rabbits. I thought we could have them for supper tonight. You’re both welcome to join us.”
“I have heard you are a good hunter,” Payton said, ignoring the invitation.
The two siblings shared few traits. Payton’s hair was black and cropped short. He was a fine looking boy, like his brother, but in a different way. His face was strong and often brooding. Tempest thought it was his eyes that set him apart from Vinsant. They were dark and almost cruel. If one didn’t know, it would be hard to tell the two were born of the same mother.
“I have had a lot of practice. I have spent a good deal of time in forests and woodlands.”
“You are pretty as well,” Payton said frankly.
The way he looked at her made Tempest uncomfortable. “Thank you, though no one is as beautiful as your mother,” she said, trying to change the subject.
“Who are your parents?” the boy asked.
Tempest thought the question strange. “The people who raised me are dead, and I never knew my real mother or father.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Payton said with certainty. “You are one of us. Mother said you have the blood.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Tempest was leery of the dark-eyed boy. She guessed he was twelve or thirteen, yet he neither sounded nor behaved like a boy that age.
The sound of laughter caught all three’s attention. They spied Pepca and Julian strolling arm in arm. The pair was headed out of the camp to the east. Tempest smiled. She knew how much Julian meant to the princess, and how happy it would make the young woman to spend some time alone with him.
“I’m surprised the princess troubles herself with that man,” Vinsant said, sounding almost jealous.
Tempest frowned. “Why would you say such a thing? Julian is a fine man.”
“He isn’t a man; he is a shapechanger. They are not truly human.”
Tempest stuck her knife in the tree round. “How can you say such a thing after what is said about us? Our blood makes people hate us and say we aren’t human. Now you would do the same thing to Julian?”
Vinsant’s face reddened. “We aren’t monsters. He becomes an animal, and that isn’t human.”
Payton smiled. If Tempest had to describe it, she would have to say the boy’s grin was almost evil. “Kian isn’t human. Does that make him a monster, brother?”
Vinsant looked confused. “No, of course not, but…”
“But nothing,” Tempest said, annoyed by the entire conversation. “Neither Julian nor Kian is a monster, both are as fine as men come. Now make yourselves useful and help me finish these rabbits.” Pulling knifes from their belts, the boys moved to help. It was clear both knew how to dress game, Tempest just wasn’t sure if she wanted their company or not.
* * *
“What is it like?” Pepca asked.
Julian smiled shyly. “It is a freedom unlike anything you could imagine.” They sat side by side on a large, cold log; Julian had brushed away the snow as best as he could, though the frost still chilled her behind. Pepca had been a little afraid of talking about Julian’s condition. The two hadn’t had much time to sit and really discuss it, and she didn’t want to say anything that would offend him.
“I don’t understand. You are a free man. What is the difference when you’re the uh…wolf?”
“Men have laws, Pepca—rules, codes they live by. When I am a man, I must follow them as well. When the wolf comes, it is different. He is of the land, the wild. He is instinct and intuition. The wolf has an awareness of the world that no human can ever know.”
“You make it sound like it’s not a curse.”
Julian chuckled. “I thought that way in the beginning. I thought, now you’re a monster, Julian. You’re going to go mad and eat people when the full moon comes. It wasn’t like that. Vladimir taught me to embrace the wolf and see past the prejudices of men. I learned to control it. The wolf and I are two halves of the same whole, and we make each other stronger.”
“Vladimir is the one that…made you.”
“Yes, he chose me more by circumstance than anything else, and his bite did the rest.”
“It is a little strange to think there is an animal inside you, but to me, you’re still the same Julian I have always known. This wolf has been inside you ever since you came to the palace all those years ago. I can’t fear it. The wolf is part of the man I fell in love with.” Pepca covered her mouth, surprised by what had popped out.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Pep. I have done some thinking,” Julian said, scooting closer to her. “It wasn’t Danika I should have been pursuing all this time.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and kissed her passionately. Pepca had no experience with that sort of thing, so she tried to follow his lead. Pepca found she couldn’t stop kissing him. It had been something the princess had wanted for so long, she didn’t want to let it end.
“I have been a fool, Pepca,” Julian said, pushing her back. “All this time, you have been right here in front of me and I never realized how beautiful you are, and your heart is a hundred times that of your sister’s. You should be angry that I didn’t realize it sooner.”
She blinked rapidly, trying to keep her eyes from misting. No one had ever said she was better than Danika at anything. “It is enough that we have finally found each other.”
He pulled her on of his lap, his mouth finding hers again. She felt his hands slid around her waist and down over her small hips. She could feel his manhood stiffen against her, her lips parted and she gasped in pleasure. Julian kissed her again and again, his lips slowing moving to her ear and neck. She was ready to give herself to him fully.
Without warning, he stopped. Fear and confusion rolled across his face. He pushed her off him and sniffed the air. “Pepca, run back to the camp.”
She looked at him as if he had lost his mind.
“What? I…”
Julian grabbed her by the shoulders. “Just go now.”
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She saw a huge gray wolf break from the trees. The massive animal bared its fangs and charged.
Julian stepped in front of her as the massive animal leapt through the air, hitting the Julian full in the chest.
There was nothing she could do but scream.
* * *
“That’s Pepca,” Tempest said, grabbing her bow. She dropped the rabbits and ran towards the sound of the scream, Payton and Vinsant on her heels.
Speeding from the camp, they heard horns blowing from behind them. Tempest ignored the sound, her focus on her friend.
“Those are battle horn,” Payton said. “The camp is under attack.”
“I don’t care. We have to get to Pepca. Did you hear her? Something is terribly wrong.”
“Aye,” Vinsant said. “Something bad has happened.”
“I wish you would stop trying to show everyone how intelligent you are, Vinsant. It isn’t working well for you,” Payton said sarcastically.
Sliding to a stop, the trio saw what had brought on Pepca’s scream. A large wolf circled the princess. The snow around her was covered in blood and Pepca scooted through the red mess, trying to escape the ferocious animal.
Tempest fired an arrow, striking the creature in the shoulder. It winced but didn’t move from its prey. It only raised its head and snarled at her. “That is no normal wolf,” she said, pulling another arrow from her quiver.
Payton jerked his sword free and walked towards the wary beast, blocking Tempest’s second shot. The animal turned its attention to the boy. Vinsant moved forward to join his brother, his large frame making it even harder for Tempest to find a shot.
Vinsant held up his hand. “Careful, Payton.”
The hackles on wolf’s back raised and it bared bloody fangs. Tempest moved, trying to get a better shot. The animal clearly wasn’t going to flee.
Taking measured steps and looking into the wolf’s murderous eyes, Payton closed in on the beast. “I am a son of Death and brother to Vengeance, and I do not fear you, mangy cur. Come, dog, let me send you to my father.”
Tempest watched as the animal launched itself at the boy. Payton danced to the side as the wolf passed, bringing his blade down on the animal’s back. The beast howled and staggered at the blow, a huge wound opening between its shoulders. Snapping forward with feral speed, it sank it fangs into the boy’s arm. Payton jerked but couldn’t free himself from the wolf’s vise-like jaws. The giant wolf shook Payton in its jaws for a moment, then flung him to the side.
Vinsant stepped up, swinging his blade at the animal’s head. The wolf jumped back, the keen steel barely missing its skull. Shaken by the two brothers’ foolhardy exploits, Tempest fired again. The arrow slammed into the wolf’s side with deadly accuracy. It yelped and ran to the north, leaving a bloody trail behind.
Vinsant pulled Payton from the ground. “Come on, let’s get it.” The two chased after the injured wolf as she ran to Pepca. The princess cradled Julian’s head in her lap. The young man had been horribly savaged. Tempest could see that he had tried to change, his eyes were those of an animal and his mouth was full of sharp fangs.
“Oh, Julian, please don’t die. I love you too much,” Pepca wailed.
Tempest was no healer, but it was clear there was nothing to be done for the man. Julian’s insides lay out in the snow and his throat was half torn away, yet somehow, he still clung to life.
The dying man grabbed Pepca’s wrist, his body convulsing in pain. “Forgive me,” he gurgled. He jerked the princess’s hand to his mouth and bit down. Pepca screamed as the man she loved died with his fangs locked into her palm.
Tempest had to put her dagger in Julian’s mouth to pry the shapechanger’s jaws apart and free the princess’s hand.
Pepca trembled and looked up at her, wild-eyed. “Why did he do that?”
Tempest shook her head. She had no answers for Julian’s cruel deed. She tore a strip of cloth from her cloak and bound Pepca’s hand.
The cries of dying men and ringing steel echoed through the forest. The rebels were under attack. “Pepca, you must hide here. Don’t go back to the camp. I must find Payton and Vinsant, then I will return for you.”
“No, you’re not leaving me here,” Pepca cried.
“Come on then.” Tempest didn’t have time to argue. Pepca staggered to her feet and followed.
It wasn’t far before they came upon the two boys standing over a large blond warrior. The man was naked and her arrows protruded from his body. Another shapechanger.
He struggled to rise, cursing the boys. “You little bastards, I’m going to skin you both and eat your livers,” the giant man said with seething hatred.
Payton’s sword fell again. This time, it took the man’s head. “You will do neither,” the boy said coldly.
“The camp is under attack. We need to get back,” Tempest pleaded.
“I am not sure taking his head will kill him,” Payton said, studying the headless body. “I should make sure he does not rise again.”
Tempest and Pepca turned their heads as Payton and Vinsant hacked the body into pieces.
“That should do it,” Payton said, wiping at the blood splattered on his face.
They set off for the camp at a quick pace. Tempest glanced at Pepca. The young woman was in shock, but she kept pace with them. There was no time to retrieve Julian; they could deal with his remains later. They needed to get back.
Approaching the camp, the small group could see it was overrun with warriors. Serban’s mercenaries, Tempest guessed. A thousand, perhaps two, and Payton and Vinsant rushed head long into the camp heedless of the danger.
“Pepca, I want you to wait here. It will be safer.” The princess nodded and squatted down behind a large stack of fire wood near the camp’s perimeter.
Tempest pushed the princess’s hair back and kissed her on the forehead. “I will be back for you, I promise.”
Pepca blinked back tears and cleared her throat. “Please be careful.”
“I will,” Tempest said as she dashed down to the battle.
* * *
The attack had been devastating. K’xarr drifted through the camp surveying the damage. He guessed nearly a thousand rebels lay dead and twice that number of Serban’s mercenaries. No one had begun clearing the bodies. It would take time for the so-called peasant army to wrap their minds around what had happened. The survivors sat in silence or roamed solemnly among the dead, looking for fallen comrades or family members. The truth was, if not for the Sons, Constantine’s forces would have been totally destroyed. K’xarr was proud; his men had fought fiercely, and with practiced discipline. All the hours he drilled them had paid off. It hadn’t hurt that Serban’s men weren’t expecting to be facing a company of ruthless killers either. His men had been prepared, and had bought time for the rebels to join the fight.
Kago advanced towards him, blood dripping from his sword’s blade. K’xarr had recognized the sword of power as soon as Kago had shown up with it. There was no mistaking Malice. He had seen Kian wield the sword many times when they fought to set the Phoenix Queen on her throne.
He had said nothing, wanting to see if his lieutenant would come to him on his own, but Kago shared nothing about how he had come into possession of the sword. The man’s reluctance didn’t surprise K’xarr. He had also kept quiet when questioned about Crimson Wave. Still, the sword’s appearance troubled him.
“How many?” K’xarr asked
“Forty-three of ours, I didn’t bother to count the rebels,” Kago said, shaking the blood from the strange blade and sliding it back into its scabbard. The two men stared at each other a moment. K’xarr had never been a subtle man. “I know where that blade comes from, Kago.”
“I was wondering when you would get around to mentioning it.” The half-Sidian warrior grinned. “It seems the Queen of Hell is as fond of me as she is of you.”
K’xarr took a deep breath and slowly released it, trying to ease his anger. The goddess had obvio
usly not been discreet with Kattan. “You made no promises, did you?” K’xarr asked.
“No.” Kago smiled “I left the promise making to her.”
K’xarr shook his head. There was nothing he could do. Besides, he had accepted the dark goddess’s gifts, so how could he reprimand Kago? The Mistress had something in mind when she bestowed the sword on Kago. Time would give him his answers. “See to the men and have them help with the dead. Find a place and burn the corpses, both sides.”
“I will see to it,” Kago said, turning on his heel.
Kago was as ambitious as he was. He would have to keep an eye on his callous lieutenant. K’xarr rubbed his eyes. He was tired. Kago could wait, he had bigger problems now. Constantine’s rebels had been all but slaughtered to the man. Maybe five hundred fighting men remained. The rebel leader told him he could summon more fighters in the spring, but these people had been his staunchest supporters. With their loss, he didn’t think they would stand a chance in battle against Serban’s army, no matter how many peasants Constantine could muster.
Their only hope now was Prince Dimitri. If Kian and Cromwell had managed to free the man, maybe they could make a fight of it. It was hard to count on those two, though. If the whim struck them, they would be off tending to a lost orphan or avenging an old woman or some other such nonsense. Kago could be treacherous at times, but at least he wasn’t unreliable. If the princess was right and her brother could draw off part of the Trimenian army, victory was still possible. That was if he could keep the rebel general out of it. Constantine had demonstrated inept command skills during the battle. If the man wasn’t such a bungler, the rebel losses wouldn’t have been so heavy.
On the other hand, the unforeseen attack had K’xarr in a much better place to bargain with the rebel leader. Constantine might not be so cocky now that two-thirds of his army was destroyed. He would speak with the man and see if he had changed his mind about who should command the rebel forces.
K’xarr had started for the rebel’s cabin when he saw the white-haired girl Kian had found walking with Vladimir. The shapechanger carried the ruined body of his friend Julian. The young man looked to have been torn apart. The princess walked along behind them, her eyes red and her right hand bandaged.
The Star Of Saree Page 29