“Yes, my lord.”
“Not a word from the old man. Just confirm that he did business with my brother and bring him to me. Now, what can you tell me about the girl?”
“She’s an orphan. Always on the move. Does business with some of the fences on the lower levels of the city.”
“No family?” Leonosis asked. “No one she cares about?”
“Unfortunately no, and no other friends who were anything more than acquaintances. So far, we haven’t found anyone who knew her plans.”
“Damn,” said Leonosis. “Keep digging. Someone somewhere must have known what she was up to. I want to know why she left the city.”
“We’ll find out, my liege.”
Leonosis spun to the group of soldiers. His face grew dark with rage. His hand shot out in a savage blow that caught one of them unaware. The man stumbled back and Leonosis saw the others brace themselves. None would dare raise a hand against the Earl, not even to defend themselves. And even though Leonosis wasn’t yet the Earl of Avondale, he filled that roll in almost every capacity. His father, Earl Aegus had relinquished more and more of his duties since the King had left Avondale. He was rarely seen outside of his private chambers and never without a goblet of wine in his hand. Gossip around the castle was that the Earl mourned his traitorous son, Tiberius, but Leonosis knew better. Their father was simply old and lazy. He would soon drink himself to death and Leonosis would take his rightful place as the Earl of Avondale, or perhaps even more.
“Why haven’t you done more?” he growled at the soldiers. “I’m not paying you to loaf.”
“My lord,” said one of the burly warriors. “We’re questioning everyone who has stood watch on the gates and walls. No one has seen or heard anything about the girl leaving the city.”
“Well, we didn’t imagine it,” Leonosis said. “You’re wasting your time questioning everyone. Obviously she fled the city in secret. Otherwise, there would be people talking about it all over the city. When could she have possibly left that no one would have seen her and four horses?”
The soldiers looked clueless. They may have been ruthless killers, but they weren’t highly intelligent.
“During the banishment, you fools,” Leonosis shouted. “Everyone was at the Northern Gate; it was the perfect time to flee through the Southern Gate unnoticed. Find out who was serving on duty during the ceremony. That shouldn’t be too hard, even for idiots like you.”
The soldiers were blushing with shame or anger, Leonosis couldn’t tell and didn’t really care. He much preferred to be feared than to be loved.
“Shall I keep a few of you here for my torturer to practice on while the others find out who is responsible?” Leonosis threatened.
“No, my lord,” the men said in unison.
“Then get me the names of those men before sundown, or I’ll fill these cells with your families so you can watch them die.”
The soldiers cast sideways glances before nodding and hurrying from the room. Leonosis was tired of incompetence. He wanted answers, and he wanted them immediately.
Chapter 12
Rafe
Their spears were being kept in the large wagon normally reserved for the tribal chief and his treasures. Tiberius had given away all the treasures except for their horses, their personal supplies, and their weapons. Rafe was carrying his rapier, but he felt better once he hoisted the long wooden spears. Each spear was armed with a long metal tip, shaped like a leaf and honed to a razor’s edge.
Rafe tucked the weapons under his arm and went to where Quntah was saddling his horse. Normally, when Rafe faced the huge monsters from the blighted lands, he was high on the walls of Avondale, looking down at where the creatures lumbered up the steep slopes of the mountain. He had always felt a thrill when racing to face the creatures on the wall, even though the city’s defenses always turned the monsters back before they reached the city walls. Still, being called on to defend his city, standing shoulder to shoulder with his fellow soldiers, it had been one of the highlights of his young life. Now, he felt that same thrill, only this time it was tinged with fear.
The horses seemed nervous. They could sense the beast approaching and wanted nothing more than to gallop away to safety, even if they couldn’t see anything in the gloomy night. Rafe set his bundle of spears on the ground and began saddling Tiberius’ horse. Soon he could feel the ground shaking as the creature moved closer to the tribe. He heard the nervous voices of the sleepy tribal folk. The Hoskali were not unlike most people—some were warriors, but most were simple people untrained for battle. The Rogu would defend the tribe against enemies, be they man or beast. And if the Rogu failed, then the tribe would be defenseless. Rafe swore to himself that he would not let that happen.
“They are ready, Great One,” said Quntah.
Rafe sprang up into the saddle of the horse he’d named Mars. It wasn’t a warhorse, but Rafe felt better facing whatever approached them in the darkness now that he was mounted. Quntah handed up the spears.
“Thank you, Quntah,” he said. “Make sure that Tiberius gets mounted.”
“I will, I will,” the small Hoskali groom said. “I will await the stories of your great victory.”
“Sounds good to me,” Rafe said, then he kicked the horse into a fast canter.
The horse was nervous and would have preferred to be riding away from the danger, Rafe guessed, but he knew that physical action would calm the horse down. It was difficult to see in the camp. There were very few fires still burning at that late hour. Unlike wood fires, the dung did not lend itself to makeshift torches. When Rafe reached the edge of the camp, there was nothing but total darkness ahead of him. He reined in his horse and waited. It only took a moment before the Rogu began to cluster around him.
When Tiberius arrived, he was riding Shadow. He was also carrying a makeshift torch made from a Tamaka rib bone. The flame was kindled on a layer of thick rawhide that had been dipped in rendered animal fat. Te’sumee was passing out a dozen more of the torches, while several other members of the Rogu carried large woven baskets filled with dried Tamaka dung.
“What’s the plan?” Rafe asked.
“They’re going to walk out and start a fire,” Tiberius said, waving his sputtering torch at the Rogu. “Maybe the creature is afraid of fire.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Rafe said.
“You and I are riding out to have a look at what we’re dealing with.”
“I knew you’d come up with some crazy scheme,” Rafe said, only halfway joking. “You want me dead, don’t you?”
“We have horses,” Tiberius said seriously. “It’s logical.”
Rafe bent low in the saddle and took an unlit torch from Te’sumee. He had the butt of all three spears on his left thigh, their points rising high above his head into the dark night.
“This isn’t the most promising start.”
“Can you hang on to all of that and ride at the same time?” Tiberius asked.
“Sure, but let’s just hope you’re plan works. I can hang on to this stuff and ride, but not fight.”
“We’re just going to scout, not engage.”
“Famous last words,” Rafe said, then he touched his torch to Ti’s until the greasy rawhide caught fire. “Let’s go.”
They rode at a fast canter. The light from their torches cast a flickering yellow circle of light around them. Rafe felt an impending sense of doom as they rode. He strained his eyes to see in the darkness. It was difficult to keep moving forward. All his training screamed that he was riding into an ambush. Scouting was usually done at a distance and from a position of safety. It did no good for the scouts to get killed before they could report back what they had discovered about the enemy. But on the open plain, there was no place to hide, and in their present circumstances, they simply didn’t have time to do anything other than ride forward blindly.
Soon, they heard a deep, guttural growling.
“You hear that?” Tiberius asked, his face
pale with fright.
“Yes,” Rafe said, hoping he didn’t look as terrified as his friend. “How sure are you that this is the right thing to do?”
“I’m not sure at all,” Tiberius said. “But maybe the fire will scare the creature away.”
“You mean the fire of our torches?” Rafe asked incredulously.
He had to hold the curved rib bone torch at an angle so that the burning grease didn’t drip down on his hand or his horse. The torches were weak. Rafe saw the ingenuity that Tiberius had used to create them when the Hoskali tribe had no traditional torches, but he doubted they would be enough to scare away one of the huge creatures from the blighted lands.
“They might,” Tiberius said, shrugging his shoulders.
The horses slowed and neither man tried to speed them up. They strained, trying to see the huge creature they could hear but not see in the darkness.
“Why don’t you use some magic?” Rafe asked. “Can’t you cast a spell and send this thing off in a different direction?”
“No,” Tiberius said. “It doesn’t work that way.”
“You made lighting strike when we were fighting Moswanee and his gargantuan thug.”
“Yes, and I couldn’t control it. We’re lucky we didn’t all die that night.”
Before Rafe could say more, their horses both slid to a stop and tried to turn away. Rafe and Tiberius fought to control the horses, who were neighing in terror. Rafe guessed the smell of the creature was terrifying them. Suddenly, the growl turned into a roar. It took all of Rafe’s self-control not to drop his weapons and cover his ears. He was having enough trouble as it was with the spears and the torch, while holding the reins of his horse. If he hadn’t been trained not to drop his weapons, he’d have thrown them to the ground and cowered. On the walls of Avondale he’d heard the roars of various monsters, their savage cries rolled up the mountainside in a deafening crescendo. But on the empty plain, in the darkness, the roar shook Rafe’s entire body and reverberated through the horse and into the very ground.
The horses reared and then raced away. The horses had been farm animals in Avondale, not trained warhorses. They were neither fast nor fierce, but they were strong enough. Rafe struggled to stay in the saddle. The spears jostled against his bouncing thigh, and he finally dropped the sputtering torch so he could take hold of the saddle horn.
“Did you see it?” Tiberius shouted from beside Rafe as their horses galloped back toward the camp.
“No. You?”
“No,” Tiberius said. “But it’s big.”
“Of course it’s big,” Rafe shouted back. “What were you expecting?”
They managed to rein their horses in as they rode into the group of Rogu warriors. Rafe quickly dismounted. He would have preferred to face the creature on horseback, but he couldn’t trust his horse not to run away when the creature was close. Not that Rafe could blame Mars. Rafe wasn’t afraid of facing any man in combat. He was a confident warrior, but fighting a huge monster was nothing like fighting another person or even facing an opposing army.
“What now?” he said to Tiberius, who was still on his own skittish horse.
“Light the fires,” Tiberius ordered the Rogu as he handed Te’sumee his torch. “Have you ever fought a creature like this?”
“No, Tiswanee. We do not battle the larger beasts. We run.”
“We don’t have time to run,” Rafe said. “We’ll lose the camp and most of our supplies, not to mention many of the Hoskali in the process.”
“Is there any chance that this creature just wants the water?” Tiberius asked. “Could we march out and leave the camp?”
“The Draccon’s are not natural creatures,” Te’sumee said. “They are Kuja-born murderous creatures. It will pursue us.”
“So we have no choice,” Rafe said.
“We’ll stay,” Tiberius said. “Te’sumee, take half of your men and lead the tribe away.”
“I will stand with you, Tiswanee,” the tribal warrior said.
“No,” Rafe said. “Tiberius is right. Your people will need your strength if we fail.”
“Leave everything,” Tiberius ordered. “There is very little time.”
The light from the fires was beginning to illuminate the plain and Rafe could see that Te’sumee was torn. He knew the danger that the group faced who stayed behind, but he was not the type of man accustomed to fleeing. He was a proud man, but also an intelligent one. He knew his tribe would need him.
“If we don’t survive,” Tiberius continued. “You will be the new Swanee. Make sure our people are safe.”
“As you wish,” Te’sumee said, bowing. “But my heart will stay with you and give you strength, Tiswanee.”
The Rogu acted instantly on Te’sumee’s orders. Those with torches spread out in a long line; the rest ran back toward the camp. Tiberius looked at Rafe and for a short moment they took courage in the familiarity of one another. They had always been close friends, even sharing their hopes and fears as children. Rafe knew that if he was going to die, he wanted it to be fighting beside his friend. Tiberius wasn’t a warrior though, and Rafe hoped that his dearest friend would survive.
“You going to stay on that horse?” Rafe asked.
“Probably not,” Tiberius said, starting to climb down.
“No,” Rafe said. “You should stay mounted, just in case.”
“I’m not running away,” Tiberius said.
“We don’t even know what we’re fighting here,” Rafe argued. “Besides, you aren’t going to take a spear beside me, we both know that.”
“He’s right.”
The voice was tense, but familiar. Both men turned and looked to see Lexi and Olyva on horseback approaching out of the darkness.”
“What are you doing here?” Tiberius asked incredulously. “You should be with the tribe. Te’sumee is leading them away from the camp.”
“I know, but we started this together,” Lexi said. “I’m not leaving you again.”
“Fine, but stay back,” Tiberius said. “I’ll stay with you. Rafe, don’t do anything stupid.”
“Never,” said Rafe, but in his mind he was already determined to die if necessary to save his friends.
He looked at Olyva, whose face was a mask of terror. She was hunched over the saddle, her long hair casting shadows on her face.
“Take care of Olyva,” Rafe said to Lexi.
She nodded and Rafe turned back to face the darkness. He stabbed the spears into the ground beside him and checked his rapier. The long sword was sharp and slid easily back and forth in his scabbard. He loved his sword. It was a precision weapon and he was unmatched in his skill with it, but in that moment he wished it was a big clumsy broadsword, or even a battle axe. He couldn’t imagine that he wouldn’t be better suited with a weapon made for hacking and chopping when he faced the huge monster that was coming toward them.
“Fall back,” Rafe told Tiberius. “Stay behind the fire.”
“No,” his friend said. “We’re better side by side.”
“Alright, well then, take one of these,” Rafe said, handing Tiberius one of the spears. “You killed a Graypee with one like this, didn’t you?”
Tiberius nodded just as the beast roared again. They turned toward the darkness and the monster finally came into view.
Chapter 13
Tiberius
Tiberius ran through the list of spells he knew in his mind. He discarded the healing spells. He might need those later, but at this moment what he needed was a weapon.
Fire, Far Sight, Find North, he said each spell in his mind. He could feel the magic all around him. It was like swimming in a rough sea. He felt the magic pushing and pulling him as he let himself sink deeper into his newfound sense of magic. Find Water, Calm Minds, Cloaking Spell, Shielding Spell, Summon Wind, Sleep Spell… He considered the Cloaking Spell, but didn’t feel that invisibility would help all that much. The most useful spell seemed to be the Shielding Spell, but he remembered us
ing the spell in the Tuscogee when he’d fought Moswanee. The spell had literally been like holding a physical shield between himself and his opponent. The physical force of the attack was carried straight through the magic and into Tiberius. It might be useful against a human foe or even a smaller animal, but the huge creature lumbering toward them now wouldn’t even notice it. And there was a very real chance that the spell could kill Tiberius.
The creature emerged from the darkness like a nightmare rising from his dreams. The beast had a huge head with a dome of thick bone on top. Its cheeks hung in layered folds with thick blobs of mucus between them. The mouth seemed small, although Tiberius was certain the creature could easily stuff Ti’s whole body into it. Pointed teeth stuck out through the thin lips, as if the mouth couldn’t contain them. As the creature moved forward, Tiberius could see its body. The beast had a massive chest and long powerful forelegs. The back sloped down to a surprisingly small hindquarters. The beast’s rear legs looked almost painfully weak.
“We need to focus on attacking the rear,” Rafe said.
“Agreed,” Tiberius said. “How?”
“Have the Rogu spread out on either side. I’ll stay here and keep the beast distracted.”
“Be careful,” Tiberius said.
Then he tucked the spear under his arm and wheeled the horse, kicking it into a gallop. He raced toward the tribal warriors. They had clubs and small knives, but Tiberius guessed that even if he had bigger weapons to give them that they wouldn’t know what to do with them.
“Move away from the fire,” he shouted as he rode. “Leave your torches. Attack the beast from the rear.”
The Rogu were fearless fighters. They rammed their bone torches into the soft turf, then sprinted into the darkness. Tiberius turned his horse and raced toward the other side of the line of warriors, repeating his orders over and over as he rode. He felt a thrill of pride seeing the Rogu racing into battle at his command. He had imagined being an Earl like his father, often pretending to order his loyal war band into battle against imaginary armies. As children, he and Rafe had fought mock battles, and occasionally rogue beasts from the blighted lands. As he grew older, he sometimes looked back at those memories with fondness, but never had he imagined that they might actually come true.
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