Leonidas smiled. Nice to find someone reasonable in all this mess.
Leonidas watched as Shade strapped the fire-controlling boy into an iron chair frame. He appeared to be the oldest of the bards they’d captured and, Leonidas assumed, the most likely to have the information he needed. They had brought all three prisoners to Domina’s cabin on the flying ship. It had been converted into a combination portable alchemy lab and torture chamber. She’d overseen the process herself and appeared quite proud of the result. Every sort of easy-to-move tool of information extraction was present, from razor-sharp blades to iron pokers to thumbscrews. The only item they lacked was a glowing brazier, a necessary precaution given the young man’s gift.
Shade tightened the last strap just as the bard groaned and started to rouse himself. His companions had been drugged and were hanging from shackles bolted to the wall. Domina busied herself at the workbench as she prepared the compulsion potion. It was a nasty concoction that compelled both speech and honesty. It would also turn the boy’s brain to pudding in about half an hour. Since Leonidas only had one question, that would be fine.
“Sure you don’t want me to handle the questioning, Boss?” Shade made an effort to speak quietly so Domina wouldn’t hear. “A little slice-and-dice action will get the kid talking. No need to use that stuff she’s cooking up.”
“Sorry, Shade,” Leonidas said. “While I have complete confidence in your ability to make him talk, the potion is necessary to confirm the truth of what he says. Every moment allows Ariel to get further away. We haven’t time to chase down any bad leads.”
Shade sighed. “I get it, Boss. Guess I’m getting soft in my old age.”
What Shade proposed was hardly soft, but Leonidas understood what he meant. Sometimes Domina’s proclivities sickened him a fraction as well. Still, she was far too useful to discard.
Speaking of which, she held her vial of truth potion up to a glowing crystal to check its color and nodded. “I’m ready,” she announced.
“Go ahead,” Leonidas said.
Domina smiled her mad smile and hurried over to the now-conscious bard. She pointed and clenched her fist. A glow formed around his mouth and his jaws were forced open. She poured the potion directly down his throat.
The bard’s screams were mercifully short. When he fell silent his head hung slack.
“He is ready to be questioned,” Domina said.
Leonidas stepped in front of him. “Where is the dragon singer?”
“I do not know.”
That wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Not that it mattered. The potion compelled honest answers. If he didn’t know then he didn’t know.
“Where did your leader send her?”
“South, to the capital.”
Now that was useful. “Shade, go up on deck and tell Jax to turn us south. Ariel has half a day’s lead on us at least. We’ll be setting out after her at first light.”
“Will do, Boss.”
Shade left the lab and Leonidas turned back to the drugged bard. “How many are with her?”
“Three.”
“What are their powers?”
“Snake tamer, earth master, empath.”
Not much offense to protect someone so important. Leonidas scratched his chin. “How did you know we were coming?”
“I do not know.” A trickle of foam ran out the corner of the boy’s mouth.
“You have about a minute left, Leonidas,” Domina said.
He nodded but had asked all his questions. It should be a simple matter to intercept the girl and her party in the morning.
A spasm ran through the bound bard and black tar ran out of his ears. He expired seconds later.
“What do you want to do with the other prisoners?” Domina asked.
He had a pretty good idea what she wanted to do with them. “They might be useful at some point, assuming whoever’s in charge of the bards values their lives. Feel free to extract anything useful from the corpse. I’m going to retire. Tomorrow should be an exciting day.”
“There they are.”
Callie looked where Tonia pointed. Four horses were trotting along a dirt road below them.
“Take us down,” Callie said. Flying in the wind spirits’ grasp was both exhilarating and terrifying. Having firm ground under her feet would be welcome.
The riders were already reining in. Someone must have spotted them.
Since she planned their route, it was a simple matter for Callie, Tonia, and Tamsin to track down Ariel and her guardians. It didn’t hurt that Tonia asked the wind spirits to carry them. She debated taking to the air given that their opponents had flying ships, but once they’d put some distance between them and the forest, she deemed the risk worth it. On foot they never would have caught up with the group.
They landed beside the horses and Callie felt the pressure of the spirits’ presence vanish.
Lucy looked the part of a warrior woman, with her short bow, quiver of arrows, and stained blue leather vest. She dismounted and asked, “What happened at the college?”
“We lost twenty before retreating. The group had to split up in the forest, so I have no idea how the others escaped. Everyone that made it out will head to the capital and the emergency meeting place. Their fates are out of my control. How are you guys holding up?”
“Good, given how little time we had to prepare. We’ve seen no sign of danger since we rode out. Ariel’s been a real trooper, haven’t you, kiddo?”
The little girl looked incredibly small on the back of her horse. Her hummingbird dragons rested on each shoulder. One of them glared at Lucy, but the other seemed indifferent. Looked like they held a grudge.
“This is all my fault,” Ariel said. “I’m sorry.”
Callie patted her foot. “This isn’t your fault at all. You can’t help that you were born with these abilities any more than the rest of us can. And you can’t control the fact that others want to use those abilities for their own greedy ends. We’ll find a way to deal with them and keep you safe.”
“And we’ll make them pay for the bards they’ve killed,” Tonia added.
“Yes, yes we will. Okay?” Callie offered Ariel a smile that felt strained.
“Okay,” the little girl said.
“Good. Mind if I ride with you?”
Ariel scooted forward and Callie swung up behind her. She looked to Tonia who said, “I’ll stay airborne. If necessary, I might be able to buy us a little time.”
“Be careful.”
When Tamsin had swung up behind Lucy, Callie flicked the reins and they were off.
Chapter 15
It felt to Moz like he’d been walking forever, though in fact it had only been a few days. He reached the outskirts of a little town called Nowhere just as the sun appeared on the horizon. On the right-hand side of the road, a narrow dirt path led away from the town and into the nearby forest.
Moz pushed his way past pine limbs and ducked branches as he worked his way deeper into the trees. Her hut was around here somewhere. Moz had built it for her after all, so he should know. Mariel had been in her fifties when he helped her relocate so she should still be alive. If she wasn’t, he didn’t know how he was going to deal with his stalker.
An especially dense cedar hedge had grown across the path. Clearly, she didn’t have many visitors. Moz forced his way through. Maybe the spicy cedar smell would cover the fact that he hadn’t had a bath in a couple weeks.
When he at last made it through he found himself facing the little hut he’d built out of fallen trees and scrap lumber all those years ago. She’d made a few alterations, the most obvious being a chimney that jutted out of the thatch roof. A variety of fetishes, mostly bundles of herbs shaped like dolls, hung from the door and wall around it. The gods alone knew what sort of curses they held. Moz had no intention of getting closer uninvited.
“Mariel! It’s Moz. Are you home?” After half a minute passed with no answer he tried again. “Are you still alive?”
T
he door swung inward and, in the opening, stood a woman with long silver hair dressed in a white robe. The wrinkles had multiplied since he last visited, but otherwise she looked healthy.
“Gods’ blood! Can’t an old woman sleep in peace? Who taught you manners? You don’t just show up unannounced at this hour of the morning.”
“Nice to see you too, Mariel. Can I come in? I’ve got a problem and I’m hoping you can help.”
“Finally going to call in your marker, huh? Well, come ahead. I was hoping I’d get to pay you back before one of us dropped dead.”
Moz grinned and walked over to the hut. It was nice to see she hadn’t changed. When he ducked under the doorframe, she kissed his cheek. “It is good to see you. I don’t exactly get a lot of company out here.”
“No kidding. Someone from the village ought to trim your path. Any company you do have is apt to poke out an eye on the branches.”
“The trees know enough to get out of my way when I go into town. I haven’t had anyone come out to this palace you built me since your last visit. Take a load off and tell me what’s happened to get you back in uniform.”
Inside, the hut was warm from the fire burning in an old potbellied stove. The only places to sit were a ragged leather chair and a hard, wooden bench. He took the bench. Mariel put a pot of water on the stove and dropped into the chair across from him.
Moz told her everything that had happened since he met Ariel, ending with the assassination attempt at the border fort. When he finished, he said, “The bastard seems to be able to appear whenever he wants, at least at night. In the daylight I can’t find hide nor hair of him. I’ve been traveling at night and sleeping during the day, so he doesn’t cut my throat in my sleep.”
Mariel chewed on the tip of her white hair as she mulled over what he’d told her. Moz had no fear of the wizard betraying him. After what the Kingdom of Carttoom did to her, she wouldn’t even consider talking to them.
“Sounds like a shadowalker,” she said at last.
If that revelation was supposed to reduce his confusion, it failed miserably. “A what?”
“A shadowalker. They’re a sort of demon that can only function in the dark. Nasty things. I killed a couple of them back in the old days. They don’t have much of a physical form. In fact, they look like a black blanket twisting in the wind. But if they sink their claws into you, they can suck the life right out of your bones.”
“The guy I fought felt solid enough. The steel of his blade did anyway. I seriously doubt he was a demon.”
“No, but his cloak might be.”
The teapot whistled and she paused to pour them both cups. Moz tried not to wince at the bitter taste.
“A skilled wizard could bind a demon to the cloak and so allow the wearer to use its powers. Nothing else fits what you described.”
“Okay, assuming you’re right, how do I deal with him?”
“Simple. I’ll kill the demon and you kill the assassin.”
It did sound simple when she said it, but somehow Moz doubted the reality would live up to her theory.
Chapter 16
Brigid trembled in the predawn light as she and the others crouched in a clump of aspen across from a farm of modest size. And it wasn’t from the cold. According to Yaz, this was the farm that bought her mother. They’d been picking up a villager here and there as the group worked its way north, sending them back whenever they reached ten willing to go. A group that size was big enough not to look like an easy target and small enough to avoid suspicion at the border.
At least that was the theory. No one knew yet whether their people had made the dangerous crossing safely or not. Everyone assumed they had, since anything else just made for extra worrying and they were in no position to change things.
So far, their small group had avoided Carttoom’s patrols which kept the killing to a minimum. At the last three farms, they’d snuck the slaves out after dark with no one the wiser. By the time morning came they were miles away. They’d heard stories of slavecatchers, bounty hunters that specialized in runaway slaves, but hadn’t run into them.
She very much preferred doing this without violence. It wasn’t always possible, she accepted that, but still wasn’t as comfortable with the very necessary acts that had allowed them to get this far, freeing over half the villagers in the process. The one small piece of luck on their side was that ninety percent of Carttoom’s slaves were kept in the nation’s bread basket, doing the heavy labor that kept the kingdom fed.
Once they finished with the farms, only the dragonriders and sages remained to be rescued and they would certainly be the most difficult groups. The sages were sold to a bookbinder in Carttoom City and the dragonriders ended up being sold to an arena in the free cities far to the northwest. They had yet to encounter anyone with knowledge of where Yaz’s parents ended up.
Not knowing was eating at him, Brigid could see it on his face when he let his guard down, which wasn’t often. Since this adventure began with just the two of them on the road for an adventure, much of the gentleness that first drew her to him had been beaten out of Yaz. Not that he treated her or any of the others badly, if anything he went out of his way to make sure everyone had everything they needed.
No, the difference was in how he treated those he thought of as their enemies. He was quick to draw a blade and not afraid to use it. Brigid wasn’t quite as accepting, not yet at least. Maybe she was just leaning on Yaz’s strength, so she didn’t have to get her hands dirty.
She swallowed a sigh. Why did everything have to be so complicated?
“Hey.”
She nearly jumped out of her skin when Yaz spoke softly in her right ear. Brigid had been so caught up in her thoughts she didn’t even notice him approaching.
“Hey, what’s happening?” she asked.
“There’s no sign of movement or guards,” Yaz said. “From the looks of it, your mom might be the only slave. If that’s the case, she’s probably in the house to be used as domestic help. There’s no way we can sneak her out. You know what that means.”
Brigid hardened her mind and nodded. “I’m getting her out of there, one way or another.”
Yaz nodded. “That’s what I wanted to hear. You, me, and Silas will go in while the rest make sure no one escapes. Okay?”
She nodded with more conviction than she felt. A few seconds later the group was hurrying across a fallow field toward a white, two-story farmhouse. It looked freshly whitewashed and a pair of chairs sat on the porch with a table between them. A place that was holding her mother captive shouldn’t look so pleasant. In other circumstances she could imagine spending an afternoon on the porch sipping tea and chatting with whoever lived here. Today, everyone was going to die.
Yaz pointed left and right and the six villagers with them spread to watch the other exits. Brigid followed him up the steps to the front door. He tried the handle gently and shook his head.
Silas motioned him aside, placed a hand on the door, and a burst of lightning blew it to splinters. Yaz had a dagger in each hand as he lunged through the opening. Brigid was a step behind, her staff at the ready.
The entryway was empty save for a trio of cloaks hanging on pegs just inside the door. One of them was sized for a child. She clenched her jaw and put it out of her mind. They’d deal with the kid when they had to.
A small homey living room came next, also empty of people. Yaz continued on to the kitchen but returned a moment later shaking his head.
Where could her mother be? Upstairs probably.
They slowly climbed a narrow set of steps. If someone attacked them, there was no way to dodge with the wall on one side and a railing on the other. Lucky for them, they reached the top without incident.
Three doors awaited them, all shut. Yaz went to the leftmost door and pushed it open. The morning light showed a small bed and dresser. The kid’s room then, but no kid.
Behind the center door was a simple cot. In the wall, a heavy iron screw had
been put in place and a six-foot length of chain dangled from it. Brigid stared at the miserable little room. Her eyes were locked on the chain. This was where her mother slept every night. Chained to the wall like an animal.
Fury burned away all her doubts. Anyone capable of doing this to her mother deserved no pity.
Yaz moved on to the third door. Before he reached for it he looked to Brigid and Silas. If anyone was here, this was where they’d be. The wizard nodded and Brigid followed suit.
He pushed the final door open. The entire family was there. The mother and daughter huddled together on a large bed. The father stood in front of them, a knife held to Brigid’s mother’s throat. She had a bandage wrapped around her arm and looked a little thin, but otherwise seemed unharmed.
“Stop right there,” the father said. “The soldiers warned us about you people. This slave’s the one you want, right? Take another step and I’ll kill her.”
“Mom?” Brigid said.
Her mother looked deep into her eyes but didn’t speak.
“How do you see this ending?” Yaz asked.
“What?” The father clearly had no clue what was going to happen next. That didn’t bode well for her mother.
“I said.” Yaz spoke slowly as if to someone with a mental disorder. “What happens next?”
“You leave and this slave lives.”
“Then what?” Yaz asked. “Are you planning to hold that knife to her throat for the rest of your life? This woman is my friend’s mother. If anything happens to her, you’re going to watch your family die screaming before I bury you alive to suffocate in the dark.”
Brigid swallowed a lump in her throat at Yaz’s threat. He made it in the calmest, most matter-of-fact tone, like he was discussing the weather. That tone somehow made it ten times worse. By the cold look in his eyes she had no doubt he meant every word.
“We did nothing wrong!” the father screamed over his whimpering daughter.
“Neither did my mother!” Brigid shouted back. “Let her go and we’ll be on our way.”
The Slave War Page 8