What?! It was incredulous enough to hear Sadikaye giving him orders, but the fact he wanted them to spare such a dangerous foe seemed ludicrous.
“Trust me,” he pressed. “So long as my magic is influencing them, no one will come to harm.”
Magic has limits, Sadikaye, Jaspur reminded. And it takes a lot of it to force these creatures to act against their will.
“Trust me,” he insisted again.
Jaspur narrowed his eyes skeptically, but he didn’t have time to argue. The leading rider was nearly upon him. Deley was first to act, leaping off of Jaspur’s back to tackle the bewildered soldier. They tumbled to the ground, rolling in a fierce struggle until the half-elf managed to plunge her dagger into the soldier’s back.
Grunting, Deley slung the soldier off of her just as another came charging in her direction. Jaspur didn’t give the rider a chance to strike, though. Rearing, he kicked the soldier in the side of his head. The foe dropped like heavy sack to lie still and unmoving, while his mount cantered over to the other riderless night mare impatiently waiting for the foray to end.
Deley used a nearby stump to remount upon Jaspur’s back. Looking to Sadikaye, she said, “Can you lure the rest of them to the river below? The last thing we need is for one of them to slip past us into camp.”
Sadikaye looked to Jaspur who gave a distinct nod. The boy then stared intently at the river, his jaw clenched as he conveyed his will.
The remaining ten mares turned in unison and galloped recklessly back down the slope. To their riders’ dismay, they completely bypassed the enemy standing around them, and instead made for the river at breakneck speed.
Sadikaye and Jaspur pursued, albeit at a more cautious pace. At one point, Kalitska was forced to jump over one of her kin, who had stumbled and rolled over her rider before sliding several feet down the slope. Jaspur trampled the already broken soldier as he passed for good measure, then swerved around Kalitska as he cut a diagonal path toward the shallow river. If he was quick enough, he could cut the mares off.
It was a good plan. However, Deley found herself with second thoughts when she caught movement in the trees. Glancing up, she gasped and yanked on Jaspur’s mane, urging him away from the water.
What are you— Jaspur started to ask, but quickly found his answer as several arrows shot out of the trees above. He slowed his gait, splashing into the shallow waters just out of range of the airborne barrage.
Before him, Velagran soldiers fell like autumn leaves, each one with a single arrow protruding from a vital organ. All were struck down with one shot each, the precision guaranteeing they wouldn’t rise again.
The mares now free of their riders looked to Sadikaye. He motioned up the hill, a silent command delivered to them in unison. Reluctantly, they cantered away to join their kin as the mysterious archers dropped down from the trees.
Deley dismounted and hailed their unexpected allies. Transforming back into his two-legged form, the rogue turned to Sadikaye. “Go tend to those night mares before the re’shahna put them down,” he instructed. “I will handle this.”
With a nod, the boy turned Kalitska and galloped away. Jaspur then joined his apprentice’s side, his expression stern. They looked to be scouts from Whitewood, an elven kingdom whose border their camp was practically sitting on.
Deley was the first to speak as she recognized a member of their party. “Renavere?”
“Lady Deley…” the leader of the group greeted. He was tall, with light brown hair and thin lips that tried not to curve into a smirk. “It seems you continue to keep odd company.”
“Friends of yours?” The rogue asked as he mentally reminded himself to play nice with their unexpected guests.
“My name is Renavere.”
“Yes, I heard,” the rogue replied. “And I assume from Deley’s recognition that you are from Whitewood?”
“Indeed, and you are dangerously close to our border. What is your name, and why do you lure Shadow’s filth towards our kingdom?”
“Please accept my apology for that. We mean Whitewood no harm. My name is Jaspur Clovenhoof. I am one of many horse folk who have chosen to oppose Shadow’s rule, which is why they pursued us. We are here in passing as we try to decipher where to go next.”
“I see… And about that form you took, Master Clovenhoof. Pray tell, what was it? Beyond that, what are you?” Elves were fearful of unicorns, and rightfully so for the magical equines rivaled the strength of their greatest wizards. “I think it is apparent my scouts and I have stumbled upon more than just ordinary refugees.”
“Quite right, my friend. But before we speak any further, I would like to know your intentions.”
“Currently, we are seeking information. Anyone who brings trouble so close to Whitewood’s borders catches our interest, Master Clovenhoof. Thus far, we have identified your camp’s location and an estimate of its numbers. Our concern now is who exactly you are and whether or not your actions will further threaten Whitewood’s safety.”
Jaspur folded his arms against his chest. “We could be allies, if it pleases your king. At the very least, it seems we have a common enemy,” the rogue remarked as he motioned to the bodies now soiling the river.
Renavere offered a tense nod. “I admit, Whitewood is not particularly fond of horse folk. However, that disdain shifted to pity when Shadow Silverhorn took the throne. We can never support a tyrant like that. His insatiable desire for power has made him many enemies. Our king would see him dead had we the means to accomplish it.”
Jaspur looked at Deley. The half-elf smiled and winked.
“You saw a glimpse of what my friend here can do,” she said. “And it’s true, we are more than just refugees.”
“Oh?” Renavere’s tone utterly lacked surprise.
“Exactly how interested is your king when it comes to the idea of eliminating Shadow Silverhorn?” Jaspur asked.
Renavere’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “Interested enough to hear what you have to say.”
* * * * *
Sadikaye cantered up the incline just in time, for several re’shahna now circled the angry night mares. The only thing that stayed the warriors hands was the odd behavior of the Abysmal creatures. For all of their stomping hooves and shrill whinnies, the mares did not try to fight or flee. Tobiano appeared at the forefront with bow in hand, his furrowed brow trying to comprehend what sorcery was at work here. It made the re’shahna wary long enough for Sadikaye to intervene.
“Back away, please,” he called as he came upon them all. “I’ll explain everything, but don’t harm the mares. I beg you.”
Upon his bidding, most of the re’shahna took a step back, leaving Tobiano as the sole remaining warrior still staring down the huddled creatures. Sadikaye slowed Kalitska to a stop before dismounting, his irises still donning the faint glow of magic.
Tobiano slowly turned his gaze upon the young prince, his scrutiny clear. Noting the boy’s eyes, he quickly deduced why the mares were so docile, but the revelation didn’t soften his scowl. As he shrugged his bow onto his shoulder, Tobiano addressed the boy in a firm tone.
“Tell me what is going on here. Spare not a single detail, Sadikaye.”
A flicker of doubt crept into the boy’s heart, but it disappeared when he glanced at Kalitska. The contrast between her form and her kin was stark. It drove home the impact of Shadow’s curse and reminded him that the rahee were not the only victims here. While night mares were carnivorous predators, they did not deserve this kind of suffering. No creature did.
“Tobiano, you remember Kalitska—the night mare my mother freed, and who in turn helped us free her.”
“Aye, what of her?”
Sadikaye motioned to the sleek, black mare that had served as his mount. She was not the same as Tobiano had remembered. No longer was this an emaciated creature made of skin, bones, and scar tissue. Cloven hooves that were once cracked and bleeding were now shiny and whole, her fetlocks licked with fiery feathering that d
anced in place. Behind her haunches, a lion-like tale swatted a bug, singeing its wings and sending it spiraling to the ground. Sharp teeth poked through her lips, emphasizing her carnivorous nature, yet she was undeniably beautiful.
Tobiano squinted in disbelief. It had only been a few days since they had seen Kalitska, making her transformation even more incredulous. “What sort of magic did this?”
“It’s the absence of magic, actually,” Sadikaye corrected. “What you see now is Kalitska in her natural state, which returned to her after my mother released Shadow’s curse. We were wrong in thinking these animals are demons, Tobiano. They are predators, certainly, but they aren’t evil. Their emaciated form is a side effect of Shadow’s binding.”
Tobiano squinted at Sadikaye as if he was trying to assess whether or not he had lost his good sense. “The re’shahna are no strangers to night mares. Whatever Kalitska has told you, beware her intent. Her kind preyed upon us in the lower tunnels of the old city long before Shadow’s hand came into play.”
Several of the re’shahna shifted nervously, their body language echoing Tobiano’s doubts.
Kalitska’s voice, wizened and raspy, entered Tobiano and Sadikaye’s minds. The fox and the stag mean you no harm, yet your people hunt them every day. Will you villainize a predator just because you are not used to being prey?
The young prince winced. Although she had a point, calling the re’shahna “prey” was not exactly earning Tobiano’s trust.
“Kalitska promised that if we lift the curse upon her kin, they would help us get rid of Shadow,” Sadikaye explained. “It would be a temporary alliance. They want revenge for the enslavement he forced them into and we want him off the throne, so it works out for us both.
“Afterward, they would return to their tunnels and caves, with no desire to resurface or interfere in our affairs. I know it’s not exactly a long-term alliance, but we can use their help, and they could really use ours. My mother is the only one Kalitska knows of who can break their curse.”
Tobiano considered Sadikaye’s words. It was not an ideal alliance, but they weren’t exactly in a position to be picky. “Are you certain we can trust Kalitska’s word? One does not have to be a demon to lie, young Sadikaye.”
Before the mare could respond, Sadikaye rose to her defense. “She will not betray us.”
“You harbor no doubts about this?”
“None.”
Kalitska whickered, flattered by the boy’s defense, but Tobiano still squirmed at the idea. He didn’t like allying with night mares any more than he liked their alliance with the tchaka, but these were desperate times.
“If I say yes, they are your responsibility,” Tobiano spoke slowly, pressing upon Sadikaye the weight of his decision. “Should a single ally’s life be lost to these mares, their blood will be upon your hands. Is that a risk you are willing to take, Sadikaye?”
The boy tensed. He trusted Kalitska. While he wouldn’t go so far as to call her a friend, Sadikaye had been inside her mind long enough to understand her intent. This was a mutually beneficial arrangement, and she would let nothing jeopardize her retribution against Shadow. Not even her own kin.
“Yes,” he replied. “Look, I’m not blind to how foolish this idea sounds. Our people will not want to ally with the night mares, but if we let them move under Kalitska’s direction, they will independently work in our favor on the battlefield. With weapons clashing all around, our allies won’t have time to argue the source of their good fortune.”
After a long bout of silence, Tobiano nodded. “Fine. Corral the night mares in the tchaka’s camp until Melah can treat them. Make sure you keep a constant vigil over them. Once all twelve are rid of the curse, we can consider applying them to our strategy.”
Sadikaye’s heart leapt inside his chest. This was his first real contribution to the rebellion since saving his mother, and it was a substantial one at that. “You won’t regret this. I promise.”
“I am counting on you to keep that promise,” Tobiano warned.
Sadikaye nodded as he remounted Kalitska. Tobiano then dismissed the re’shahna, leaving the boy with a dozen night mares still straining against his will.
A dull headache started to form as the magical strain Jaspur warned him about began to set in. “Let us get your kin to the other side of ridge, then,” he said to Kalitska. “No time to waste.”
* * * * *
Tobiano walked away from Sadikaye, hoping he had made the right choice. He preferred more time to mull it over, but today would not bring such luxuries. Another surprise had shown itself in the form of five elven scouts. Jaspur was already there, engaging them as he likely tried to gauge whether they were friend or foe.
However, the rogue was not in a position to make executive decisions. With Patchi well beyond the brink of exhaustion, that weighty responsibility fell upon Tobiano, and he could not let this opportunity go to waste.
Donning a stoic demeanor, Tobiano approached the elven company. He noted one was speaking directly to the rogue. Likely the ringleader, and yet Tobiano could sense his trepidation. The subtle way he leaned on his back heel—as if to put distance between himself and the rogue—gave it away.
“Ho, Jaspur,” he called before slipping into his people’s native tongue. “Who is this?”
Picking up on his companion’s discretion, the rogue easily transitioned into the same language. “Scouts from Whitewood.”
The elves did their best to appear patient and unbothered, but Tobiano could feel their stares upon him. They were curious; guarded; uncertain.
“What do you make of them so far?”
An ambitious smile twitched at the corner of Jaspur’s mouth. “Word is their king fancies the idea of a realm without Shadow.”
“Any mention of an alliance?”
“The seed is planted.”
Tobiano nodded once before turning to the elf. Switching back to the common tongue, he spoke carefully, ensuring he enunciated the words correctly. “You speak for Whitewood?”
“I report to the king,” the elf replied. “My name is Renavere. We were sent here to identify the source of the campfires rising up over the mountains. You are near Whitewood’s borders, and thus we wanted to ascertain whether you were friend or foe. From what I gather, it seems we share a common desire.”
“Do tell.”
“King Mekkai is no fool. He can foresee the trouble that will come upon Whitewood should we let Shadow continue to follow his ambitions. However, even if we could eliminate him, there is the slight problem of an empty throne. We do not have the means to control the horse folk’s kingdom, nor do they have a king to guide it. We would be trading danger for chaos.”
“The rahee have an heir who can take up the crown,” Tobiano replied.
Whispers rose up behind Renavere, whose lips pursed together in a skeptical frown. “What do you mean?”
“The people do not yet know, but there lives a Connor Prince.”
“Jaycent?”
“Nay,” Tobiano shook his head. “Jaycent is dead.”
“Then who?” a voice rose up from one scout behind Renavere’s shoulder.
Tobiano glanced at Jaspur, who nodded grimly. “His son.”
“What?” Renavere nearly choked on the word as it left his mouth.
Deley, too, had to hide her surprise. No one had told her anything about an heir to the throne. She looked up at Jaspur, but the rogue shook his head ever so slightly, reminding her that now was not the time for such questions.
“Tobiano’s telling the truth,” Jaspur confirmed. “His name is Sadikaye. We found him after rescuing his mother, Melah, from Shadow’s clutches.”
“Are you certain he is the prince’s son?” Renavere pressed.
“One look at him, sirrah, and you shall see the truth,” Tobiano replied. “Not only does the boy look like Jaycent, but he also wears the late prince’s kunah.”
“It’s a necklace every male wears to identify his clan and his lega
cy,” Deley explained, for she could tell by Renavere’s furrowed brow that he hadn’t understood the necklace’s significance. It took everything she had to play along as if none of this was news to her.
Renavere shook his head. “Can we really go by this evidence alone? With no clear claim to the throne, some may be tempted to pose as the late prince’s bastard son.”
“My mother could validate it,” Deley piped in again, drawing everyone’s attention. “She studies the rahee and re’shahna, along with their artifacts. She knows their history better than anyone. Have her Sadikaye. She can validate whether the kunah is authentic, as well as whether the boy’s story lines up with Jaycent’s history.”
Renavere turned his attention to Tobiano. He knew Deley’s mother, Elessara. Most elves did, as she was the palace’s royal historian. “Would you allow this? With Elessara’s validation, we can arrange an audience between Sadikaye and King Mekkai.”
Tobiano thought for a moment. Convincing Elessara would be no real hurdle. They had enough evidence to validate Sadikaye’s claim to the throne. However, the elves were an opportunistic people. Even with Shadow breathing down their necks, they wouldn’t offer their help for free. The horse folk would have to make an offer. Likely, a political arrangement that would benefit Whitewood in some manner.
If Sadikaye played his cards right, that wouldn’t be a bad thing. In fact, the two kingdoms were close enough geographically they could form a symbiotic relationship through trade and mutual protection. “Aye, but first we must move our camp. Now that Shadow’s scouts have caught wind of our location, we cannot linger here.”
“If you travel northwest beyond the triple falls, you will arrive at Moonridge,” Renavere said. “Elessara is currently studying there. Your people will be safe within its borders, but do not enter the city as a full company. We will want to keep your presence discreet for now.
“I will send a message ahead of you, notifying the queen of your arrival. Bring the lost prince and his closest advisors with him to the city, and I will have someone meet you at the gate in three days’ time.”
The Rogue Trilogy Page 87
