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Duty Bound

Page 20

by Lindsay Buroker


  Jev shifted so he could look through the eyepiece.

  “Interesting.” Lornysh touched the side.

  Jev noticed the spyglass itself didn’t move—he didn’t think it had moved when he tried to adjust it either—but Lornysh kept touching the spot, so he assumed the image at the other end was changing.

  “Your army barracks. A popular market. I believe that is the watch headquarters building. Your Fire Order Temple. Someone has been observing your city.”

  “Tildar?”

  Lornysh hesitated before saying, “Perhaps.”

  He didn’t sound convinced. Jev remembered his comment about trolls and orcs having warlocks that specialized in animal magic. What about in making sight-enhancing artifacts?

  “Jev.” Lornysh leaned away from the spyglass and waved for him to look.

  Warily, Jev leaned in. The view had shifted from the city to the ocean, to a great steamship with two bronze smokestacks, each the size of small buildings. The ship itself was massive, the crewmen working on the deck appearing like ants in comparison. Bearded ants.

  “Is that the dwarven ship?” Jev asked, awed by all the metal on the vessel.

  Bronze and iron gleamed in the sunlight all over the ship. Was there a single wooden spar?

  The steamboats that paddled up and down the Jade River were made mostly from wood. Jev had seen a couple of ocean-going steamships being built in the shipyard in the harbor, but they still had wooden masts and cloth sails, the craft not relying entirely on steam. He didn’t see evidence of either on the dwarven vessel.

  “Yes.”

  “Any way to tell how far out it is?” Jev couldn’t see anything but water around the ship, deep blue water. He touched the spyglass, but it shifted back to the view of the dome.

  “Not far is my guess. I haven’t heard of an artifact like this augmenting sight for more than twenty miles.”

  Jev hadn’t heard of an artifact like this at all. He shook his head and turned for the ladder. “We better find this Tildar if he’s out here. I have questions for him.”

  Such as why a man who had a townhouse in Korvann had to come out here to spy on the city. And why this special spyglass had been set to watch for the approach of that ship.

  “I don’t think he was the one up here,” Lornysh said, an odd note in his tone.

  Jev paused, a hand on the tree trunk. Lornysh held up something small, matted, bloody, and dark gray.

  “What is that?” Did Jev want to know?

  “A rat’s head.”

  “Uh, what happened to the rest of it?”

  “Judging by the teeth marks, it was eaten.”

  “As some bird’s snack?” Jev looked up, though the oak’s leaves blocked the sky directly above. He hadn’t heard any eagles or falcons screeching, but he was sure they were around.

  “I think by someone sitting and watching through the spyglass,” Lornysh said. “Ogres don’t usually stoop to eating rodentia, nor would one have been able to climb that ladder, but orcs and trolls are lighter weight and will eat almost anything that moves.”

  Including humans, if the stories were true.

  Jev had occasionally seen and interacted with orcs and trolls in Taziira—the elves claimed the territory around their woodland cities, but they had never striven to keep the entire continent free of other races—but he’d never sat down for meals with them. Nor had he ever wanted to. He didn’t like the idea of them sitting out here and munching on a snack while spying on his city, not one bit.

  Zenia slogged through the swamp, her wet dress sticking to her body and mud trying to suck her soggy boots off her feet. Her thighs chafed, and the skin of her palms was wrinkled from pushing aside damp foliage that wanted to slap her in the face. There hadn’t been a trail for what seemed like hours, and she hadn’t the faintest idea where they were in relation to the river and the path back out.

  She didn’t complain out loud and did her best to stoically tell herself she was doing her duty, that her misery was for the good of the kingdom, but she couldn’t help but look forward to escaping this sodden adventure and visiting the steamy bathroom in the castle.

  She didn’t think Jev, Rhi, or Lornysh, who was leading them to who knew where, could be as uncomfortable as she, since they’d had the wisdom to stay on land instead of burning the bridge they stood on, but nobody was talking much, so maybe they were. Nobody’s boots or trousers were dry anymore.

  Lornysh stopped abruptly, his head turning to the side.

  Zenia, worried another batch of crocodiles might attack, touched her dragon tear and willed it to let her know what creatures were around them. She was almost overwhelmed by the sensation of tremendous life on all sides. The dragon tear made her aware of each insect, reptile, rodent, and bird and where they were in relation to her.

  “You all right?” Jev touched her shoulder.

  Had she gasped? She must have.

  “Yes. Give me a second.”

  Zenia tried to lessen the intensity of the mental map of life she was receiving. The dragon tear understood and complied, and she was able to sort through it. There weren’t any crocodiles or large predators around. Huh. What had made Lornysh pause?

  “Just figuring out what my dragon tear can do,” she added since Jev was looking at her with concern. She flicked her fingers to wave away the moment.

  His concern didn’t go away. If anything, his brow furrowed deeper. He’d been staying close since they left the island. What had he thought of the fire she—her dragon tear—had created?

  “Now, where are we going?” Rhi mumbled.

  Lornysh had turned off in the direction he’d been looking.

  “I didn’t know where we were going before.” Jev lowered his hand from Zenia’s shoulder.

  “You didn’t either?” Zenia joked, hoping to distract him from his concerns. “Aren’t you and I supposed to be the wise captains leading the troops?”

  “Wisdom is required for this job? Targyon got the wrong people then.”

  She wanted to object but wasn’t sure she could. At her old job, she’d felt wise, or at least experienced. She was still adjusting to her new job.

  “Just what a junior agent wants to hear about her employers,” Rhi said.

  “Technically, the king is your employer,” Jev said. “We’re just the taskmasters cracking the whip at your backside.”

  “Can someone crack a whip at that elf’s backside?” Rhi pointed after Lornysh, who didn’t seem to care if they followed or not.

  “I would,” Jev said, “but it’s narrow and bony. Not much of a target.”

  Lornysh’s pointed ears turned back toward him, as if he’d heard that comment, but all he said was, “Come, Jev. You’ll want to see this.”

  “Another magical artifact?” Jev slogged after his friend.

  “Among other things.”

  Rhi looked at Zenia. “He didn’t say we’d want to see it. Does that mean we can stay here?”

  “Maybe, but here isn’t that appealing of a place.” Zenia looked toward a snake dangling from a branch. It wasn’t as big and threatening as the one that had attacked earlier, but she didn’t want to take a rest stop under its perch.

  “True. This is making me long for a blanket under an umbrella at the beach.”

  “I’ve got a small umbrella in my pack.” Zenia had added it after that rainstorm they’d run through at Nhole Castle.

  “I don’t think that alone is going to give this place the correct ambiance.”

  “I have a blanket too.” She didn’t mention that the contents of her pack were likely as wet as the rest of her.

  “Oh good. We can drape it over that mossy log with the toadstools growing all over it and oozing brown pus. Then it’ll be just like we’re at the beach.”

  Not wanting a close view of the pus-oozing toadstools, Zenia hurried to catch up to Jev.

  Rhi came after her, grumbling about beaches and waiters from the waterfront taverns bringing food trays around. The grou
p did have food and fresh water with them, but Zenia’s hands were so dirty—all of her was dirty—that she hadn’t wanted to pull out anything to eat. That bacteria that had killed Targyon’s cousins was on her mind as they traveled through the brackish water, and she didn’t want to risk getting anything here in her mouth.

  Up ahead, Lornysh paused at the edge of a wide pool surrounded by densely growing mangroves. He looked back and held a finger to his lips, then crouched down behind a clump of raised roots.

  Zenia hoped there wasn’t another crocodile-infested island in the middle of the pool.

  Jev also crouched as he moved the last few feet to join Lornysh in looking across the water. Though Zenia couldn’t see anything except trees yet, she emulated the men, staying low and stepping carefully as she approached. Neither of them was speaking. Just looking.

  Zenia glimpsed firelight on the other side of the pool along with grimy canvas sheets strung between the trees. No, those were tents. They had found someone’s encampment. A large encampment. There had to be ten or twelve tents, each large enough to hold several people.

  Or maybe not people. Not human people.

  Zenia stopped and stared when she glimpsed a tall, gangly figure with white hair and blue-gray skin. He was heading into the camp and issued a few hisses and clucks. Was that a language? Or a sign of indigestion?

  She remembered seeing a couple of trolls in cages at the waterfront when she had been young, but she had never witnessed one walking free with sheathed knives, axes, and pistols thrust though loops in a multi-pocketed vest that was the only thing the troll wore on its upper body. A black garment similar to a skirt or maybe a kilt hung down to its knees.

  Jev reached out and pulled her down beside him where the roots would hide them. Zenia realized she’d been gawking—and crouching out in the open. If they were spotted by the trolls, trolls who likely did not want to be discovered by Korvann’s inhabitants, they could end up chased through the swamp for miles. And killed, she added grimly to herself. Judging by the number of tents, her little team was sorely outnumbered.

  Rhi hunkered down beside her, careful not to knock her bo against the roots. Her expression was grim, too, and she likely wasn’t thinking of beaches any longer.

  “There’s a cabin behind the tents,” Jev breathed, his voice barely audible.

  Zenia leaned closer, her shoulder brushing his, to hear him. Lornysh nodded from his other side, his ears not having trouble hearing whispers. It took a moment for Zenia to pick out the cabin since it was the same drab gray-brown as the rest of the swamp, and moss carpeted its log walls. Maybe it had been a hunting cabin for the Nholes once. Zenia knew zyndar went on safaris in exotic lands to hunt ferocious predators. She didn’t know about five miles up the river from the city to tangle with crocodiles.

  Lornysh tapped Jev’s shoulder and pointed back the way they had come. Their group carefully backtracked until they could no longer see the pool or the tents.

  “A scouting party,” Lornysh said, watching their surroundings as he spoke. “A large one. It’s hard to tell how long they’ve been here, but the tents sagged, as if they’ve been up in the damp weather for many days.”

  Jev stroked his beard. “We’ll have to go back to town and get help to deal with them. If Krox is around, he can round up some experienced soldiers.”

  “I believe there are twenty or thirty trolls in camp right now. We can deal with them.”

  “We?” Jev pointed at his chest, then Lornysh’s. He didn’t include Zenia and Rhi.

  Rhi’s eyes narrowed.

  Since “deal with them,” likely meant kill them, Zenia didn’t object to being left out. Even though those trolls had come to spy on Korvann, if not lead an attack on it, she would have a hard time sneaking up on them and shooting to kill. That had never been her duty as an inquisitor. She questioned people and arrested them, leaving the execution of justice to the city’s headsmen.

  “It will be dark soon,” Lornysh said. “It’ll be easier to sneak up on them and strike without others noticing and raising an alarm.”

  Jev grimaced. Zenia didn’t know if it was because he disliked the idea of playing the role of assassin or if he was skeptical they could kill that many by themselves. Zenia would be.

  “Aren’t you still injured?” Jev waved to his friend’s abdomen.

  “Nothing that will impede me. As you saw with the crocodiles.”

  “Maybe we could capture one to question first,” Zenia said.

  “Troll isn’t a language I speak,” Jev said.

  Lornysh didn’t comment. Did he understand their language? Maybe he did but didn’t want to question them. Did elves have a vendetta against trolls? Or maybe he did personally.

  “I think I could grasp some of their thoughts without understanding the language.” Zenia touched her dragon tear.

  “I assure you, you already know why they’re here,” Lornysh said.

  “It would be useful to learn about their plans,” Jev said. “How many are here and how many more are coming. And if our dwarven friends are out in this swamp somewhere. Admittedly, it’s hard to imagine that a pack of trolls sneaked into the city to kidnap Grindmor. They’re distinctive.”

  “If we can capture one, I won’t object, but it may be easier to pick them off from afar.” Lornysh removed his bow from his back. “Before they realize we’re out here and raise an alarm.”

  “When have you ever chosen the easy way, my friend?” Jev smiled, though he looked worried.

  Zenia didn’t like the idea of Jev and Lornysh going in to fight the trolls alone. “It wouldn’t take that long to go back to town and gather reinforcements. Better to have equal or better numbers than theirs, right?”

  “It took us hours to travel out here. We may not have that much time.” Lornysh looked at Jev. “Remember, the dwarven ship is close.”

  Zenia was about to point out that they had taken a circuitous route to this point and hadn’t been pushing their horses on the ride out, but it was getting darker. Under the dense canopy, she couldn’t see the sun, but twilight couldn’t be that far off. Even if they found reinforcements, leading them back to this spot in the dark would be a challenge. And tomorrow might be too late.

  Jev lowered his hand and nodded, a decision made. “Let’s deal with them. Zenia, will you and Rhi stay here? If we can draw one away from the others, we’ll bring him for you to question.”

  “We can help fight,” Rhi said.

  “We’re going to kill them, not concuss them,” Lornysh said bluntly.

  “Stay here,” Jev told her more gently. “Zenia would be lonely without any company.”

  “Maybe she wants to fight too,” Rhi said mulishly.

  “Do you?” Jev raised his eyebrows toward Zenia.

  “I would have a hard time killing strangers,” Zenia admitted.

  “You annihilated strange crocodiles,” Rhi pointed out.

  Zenia grimaced, not wanting to be reminded of the incident since she’d also foolishly destroyed the bridge she’d been standing on.

  “We’ll be back as soon as possible,” Jev said. “Stay behind that log and out of trouble, eh?”

  Zenia eyed the log. It was the same one Rhi had pointed to earlier, moss and fungus blanketing it. It looked like she would indeed get a better view of the pus-oozing toadstools.

  15

  Jev let Lornysh take the lead, knowing his friend could see well in the dark and move silently, even through mud and water, but he was more than ready to fight. The fact that these trolls were here spying on the city from only a handful of miles away from Dharrow land made him furious. There could be no innocent explanation for this. He hoped the scouts hadn’t been roaming the countryside, stealing animals and attacking people they found out by themselves. What if some were even now skulking around on Dharrow land?

  His fingers tightened around his pistol grip. He held his short sword in his other hand.

  Just ahead of him, Lornysh paused and fired his b
ow twice. Then he burst into motion, running forward and slinging the bow over his back as he yanked out his sword.

  Jev couldn’t yet see what he’d fired at, but he ran after to help.

  Lornysh jumped over a dark figure sprawled in the mud, then sprang behind a tree. A grunt sounded, followed by a gasp of pain. Jev paused when he reached the figure, a dead troll with an arrow sticking out of each eye.

  As Jev stepped over the body, Lornysh pulled a second troll out from behind the tree. Though Lornysh wasn’t as tall as his blue-skinned adversary, he had no trouble keeping a dagger to the troll’s throat and a hand over his mouth. Long-fingered hands with yellow nails whipped up and grabbed Lornysh’s arm, trying to dislodge it, but his grip might as well have been made of steel.

  He pushed the troll ahead of him, and Jev stepped aside, realizing Lornysh wanted to get his prisoner out of hearing range from camp. A couple of times, the troll’s arms flexed, and he kicked behind him, but Lornysh evaded the attacks like a dancer, barely missing a step. He sank his dagger deeper, and his prisoner stopped struggling.

  “What questions do you have for him?” Lornysh asked when they were farther from the camp. He stopped and turned his prisoner to face Jev.

  “That was Zenia who wanted to chat with him.” Jev did have questions, but he doubted the troll would answer them without magical coercion. Or even understand them. “Do you speak his language?”

  “Enough of it.”

  “How many trolls are here scouting?” Jev asked. “And how many more are coming?”

  The troll glared at Jev with black eyes, the irises and pupils the same inky shade, and both equally filled with loathing. Blue lips curled, and the troll spat. Then he spoke.

  “This land was ours long ago, and it will be again. Your people are weak and even your own kind will betray you for power. Trolls are strong, and the entire world knows this and accepts it. Many wish to ally with us. Your kind will fall, and these marshes and mountains will be ours again.” He turned his gaze toward the trees and the muddy pools, perhaps seeing them better in the dark than Jev did. Though his lips remained curled, his dark eyes seemed loving as he gazed upon vines dangling from branches.

 

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