by T R Kerby
Thera burst into Murdoc's room and froze in her tracks.
Murdoc yanked her cloak around her naked body, but not before Thera saw the spider web of scars marring her flesh. "Don't you ever knock?"
"Deru's missing."
Murdoc clutched the cloak close. "Stop gawking and find him. And Thera, don't mistake my tolerance for affinity. If you try to take the children, I'll kill you myself."
Thera's mouth fell open, but she clamped it shut again and ran outside. "Deru!" She trotted into the woods and stopped to listen and watch. The guards' shouts rang back to her as they searched. No flash of his red head. No squeals of delight as he played hide and seek. Brannon's sly glance replayed itself in her mind. What had they done? Did they understand the risk they took? Thera would bet Brannon did even if the other children did not.
"Deru!" She was farther from the guards now. Their calls faded into distance. Something stirred on her right and she spun toward it. Deru sprinted away from her down a thread of trail.
"Deru! Stop!" She ran after him. Suddenly an Order scout stepped into the trail, snatched Deru into his arms, covered his mouth, and vanished like an apparition. Thera staggered to a halt. The watchers were so close. Did Murdoc know?
A second scout raised his head and beckoned Thera to him. If she went, no one would remain to protect Neva and Brannon. Murdoc would know Thera abandoned them. That she ran like the frightened child Murdoc believed her to be. No, her duty was to the children. She would not abandon them for her own safety. She backed away.
The scout's gestures grew more emphatic. Voices rose nearby and the watcher sank into the undergrowth. Thera retraced her way to put distance between herself and the scouts who would protect Deru. He'd be safe in Bronwyn's tent by dinner.
Thera crashed into Murdoc's chest as the woman emerged from behind a thick pine. Murdoc spun her around and clamped her elbow across Thera's throat. Forest spun in dizzy circles one direction, while she whirled in the other. Her knees faltered, but Murdoc tugged her to her feet and loosened her hold.
Murdoc dragged her to the cavern, shoved her to the floor, and drew her blade. "You orchestrated this."
"I didn't!" Thera rubbed at her throat.
"You lie. I almost believed you. Almost trusted you. What an idiot I've been."
Thera squished herself against the stone wall and rolled into a ball, cringing away from Murdoc's rage. Would Murdoc actually kill her? Probably.
Brannon scooted around Murdoc and stood protectively in front of Thera. "I did it. It was me. Kill me instead."
"Go to your room, Bran," Thera said.
"No. This is my fault."
"Murdoc won't hurt me. I promise."
He raised his head and addressed Murdoc. "Don't punish her. Punish me."
Murdoc glared at the cavern's ceiling, then at Brannon. "Go to your room. I won't hurt her." She sheathed her sword.
Brannon ducked past her and ran.
"Neva and Zila are sleeping," Murdoc said to Thera. "Join them and don't come out until I tell you to."
Thera scrambled to her feet. "I —"
Murdoc raised her hand. "Don't."
Thera went to Murdoc's room and sat on the trunk. The girls slept side by side. One on the brink of death. One just starting life. Their chests rose and fell in unison. What would happen if Zila died tonight? Would Murdoc lose her self-control? How could a person endure whatever gave her those scars and keep their humanity intact? Maybe they couldn't. Murdoc might kill them in their sleep and never experience a single pang of regret. What if she came for the children? Thera needed a way to protect them, but what chance would she have against an accomplished fighter like Murdoc? Her training was good, but she lacked experience.
And she lacked nerve.
She stretched out next to Neva and stared at the ceiling, illuminated by the glow of a single candle. Courage is a choice, but how did she make that choice when fear crushed her? She must figure it out, and soon.
The odor of Zila's inevitable death hung on the air like a threat.
Chapter 20
Randir stared into the cavern for several minutes after Tegedir disappeared into it. He wasn't quite ready to face Aric. He couldn't trust himself to remain composed after what his Commander revealed. His famous temper tickled at his psyche. Though he'd learned years ago to control it, Aric had a way of dragging it to the surface and poking it with a stick.
Aric was a fine scout and a solid man in a fight, but a leader? Hardly. Why would Aric take the reins of Badger Company if Tegedir failed to return? Aric was Second to Valta, a strong and well-loved Captain. Aric's prickly personality and volatile behavior should have relegated him to a lower place on the list.
Was he jealous because he outranked Aric, yet Aric stood to be assigned his own Company? Jealousy was an unbecoming trait and had no place in his world. He sighed and turned around.
Aric and Trinn stared at him. Aric's lip curved and Randir crushed the urge to slap it. "What is this about?" Randir asked.
"If Tegedir doesn't return, I take over Badger." Aric sat on a rock and trimmed his fingernails with his dagger. He would force Randir to extract every filament of information the hard way.
"You sound as if you hope it happens."
"Never. And you offend me with the insinuation. I'd trade my life for his every time."
"So?"
"So what?" He sliced off another sliver of nail.
"Can we not play this game?"
Aric's dagger paused and he looked up. "Game? No part of this is a game."
"Oh for Alimarae's sake," Trinn said. "Stop it, Aric."
"This is the kind of behavior that makes it difficult for me to understand why Tegedir would chose you, of all people," Randir said.
"There's more to Aric than you know," Trinn said. "I was there when he put himself between Tegedir and fifteen swords. I saw him bleed and I saw him fall and he'd do it again."
"Now you're defending him?" His own mate. This got better and better. Randir needed space and some air that didn't have Aric breathing it.
"What's the matter?" Aric asked. "Didn't expect to have your mate and your Commander give me the nod in one afternoon, huh, Traitorson?"
Trinn rounded on him. "If you value my friendship, you will never utter that vile accusation again."
He blinked and went back to this fingernails. "Valta is pregnant."
"What?" Trinn and Randir voiced as one.
"Pregnant."
Trinn's fists plunked onto her hips and she lowered both eyebrows at Aric. "Is it yours?"
"Is it... No!... I never... It's not mine!"
"You once mentioned how much you'd like to see her without her armor."
"Well, yeah. Who wouldn't? But I haven't!"
Randir enjoyed watching Aric squirm under Trinn's scrutiny, his smug confidence shredded to ribbons, but the conversation had veered off track. "Can we get back to why you're next to command Badger?"
"Valta wants to raise her child without fear of ending on a sword point. I'm Second, not only to her, but to Tegedir, who is Captain of Badger Company if she's unable. It's a convoluted chain of command, given Tegedir is Commander of the Order as a whole. Badger Company is its own entity, not beholden to the Order proper."
"Lalaith's personal guard." Randir sank onto a rock across from Aric.
"And now, by her command, Brannon and Neva's. Also by her command, the twins supersede her in priority." Aric sheathed his dagger. "Tegedir handpicked us. Every single one."
"Why you?"
"Is it impossible for you to believe I might be good at it?"
"Yes."
"Why is that?" Aric stood on the rock and scanned the distance.
The one answer Randir could summon sounded childish and weak. Because I don't like you. But he did trust Tegedir with his life. If his Commander respected Aric enough to entrust his children to him, then Randir needed to man up and find some common ground. Talk about a test of leadership skill. "I suggest a compromise. You think I'm a
born traitor. I think you're a born ass. We both respect Tegedir, so I'm willing to trust his judgment if you are. Deal?"
Aric hopped off the rock. "Done." He clasped Randir's forearm and gathered his gear. "We need to move. There's a patrol in the woods and we're exposed."
They scrambled uphill and ducked behind three boulders the size of wagons. A fourth chunk of granite had toppled against the first three and formed a stone tent. Randir peered through an opening at the trees below. Trinn rested her chin on his shoulder.
"Have they seen our tracks?" she whispered.
He shook his head. It didn't appear they had. They gave the dead trees a wide berth and continued along the base of the mountain, headed northwest. They receded from view, hidden by the dense forest.
Randir exhaled and dropped to the floor. A rock jabbed into his thigh. He wiggled into a more tolerable position and closed his eyes. Their concealed shelter wasn't perfect, but it was secure. Unless the patrol crossed their tracks, then a search up the slope might ensue.
"We have the high ground. Relatively defensible if we're forced." Aric reclined against the rock next to him. "They could swarm us with numbers, but it would cost them."
Trinn strung her bow and placed her quiver at her feet. "I'll take first watch."
Chapter 21
Tegedir crawled forward, pushing the torch before him. His shoulders brushed the rough stone sides of the tunnel and his head barely cleared the ceiling. Even with the torches, the darkness seemed like a living thing eager to swallow them alive. Tons of rock pressed in on every side. He'd rather face a line of spears than this death chute.
Caeth followed at a short distance, his huffing loud in the tight space. Having the boy with him was no real comfort. Tegedir knew nothing about his fighting skill or motivations. Less than honorable he guessed, although he'd seen no evidence of it.
Cold ceased to be an issue. Sweat trickled down his ribs and dripped into his eyes. He mopped it away with the strip of cloak around his neck and continued crawling.
The tunnel shrank until he crouched like a stalking cat, then slithered on his belly. Would it become so tight they'd wedge like corks in a bottle? He dug into the sandy floor with his elbows and towed his body another two feet.
He squinted into the darkness. What scuttled on the edge of the light? He thrust the torch farther ahead. Something, faint as smoke, skittered away from the glow. "Do you see that, Caeth?"
Caeth crawled closer until his torch warmed Tegedir's feet. "Can't see nothing."
"Something moved up there."
"What could live down here?"
What indeed? The hair rose on the back of Tegedir's neck. There was no room to fight and he couldn't manage the torch and a weapon anyway. Whatever it was, he hoped it was harmless. "Can you see anything behind?"
Caeth wiggled and twisted. "Nothing. Dark as death."
The kid had a way with words.
Musty cave scent filled Tegedir's nose and moisture dripped from the rocks onto his hair. He inched forward again. The sputtering flame masked any other sound. The ghostly white form stayed just beyond the light.
Suddenly it surged toward him.
He thrust himself away and cracked his head on the unyielding rock.
"What is it?" Caeth wormed backward.
A writhing mass squirmed toward him in a wave of legs and plump bodies. They filled the tunnel from floor to ceiling, a moving wall of moon-white spiders.
They broke around the torch flame like a river and crawled up his arms. He swatted at them, leaving smudges of moisture from their crushed bodies, but there was no escape in the narrow space. They swarmed around his neck and tickled across his lips. He snorted to divert them from his nostrils.
Behind him, Caeth screeched and dropped the torch on Tegedir's brush boot. The dried leaves flared. Tegedir jerked away from the searing pain, slamming his knee into the stone wall. A high-pitched hiss issued from the cave spiders as they dodged this new threat.
Tegedir lurched away from his flaming boot. Control took steel nerves, but he managed to flip onto his back and use his other foot to kick sand and dirt - and spiders - across the burning boot. The spiders did the trick and extinguished the flame. He pinched his nose shut to keep them out and let the wave of arachnids swarm over him.
He pictured Lalaith's infectious smile and the way Neva pouted when she wanted something, Brannon's keen face as he solved some new puzzle. His body screamed for air and he released his nose long enough to inhale, the air ripe with smoke from scorched shrubbery and fried spiders. The crawling sensation ceased and the tunnel became silent.
"Caeth?"
"If there's more, kill me now," Caeth said.
"You set my foot on fire." Then he was laughing, the sound echoing in the tunnel. He laughed until tears streamed and some of the pent up stress went with them.
Caeth's face was buried in his hands, but his body convulsed with adrenaline fueled giggles. He raised his head. "That was the most disgusting thing I've ever experienced." His brown eyes glowed orange in the torch light.
"They were scared of the fire, so what made them willing to run this way?"
Caeth pointed past his head. "That."
Tegedir rolled to his stomach. A platter-sized scorpion the color of a deer crept toward them, pincers outstretched, stinger folded over its back. It waved its monstrous claws to and fro, seeking the meal that escaped.
"Kill that thing!" Caeth squirmed farther away.
The scorpion scurried forward, waited, scurried again. Her hideous cargo became visible as she came deeper into the ring of torchlight. Dozens of tiny scorplings clung to her back as their mother hunted.
Tegedir drew his dagger and the scorpion skittered to the far side of the tunnel against the rock. It eased along the edge, hesitating every few feet. He mashed himself against the opposing wall and left her a scant few inches of open trail. The scorpion and her brood hurried past.
"It's a mother trying to feed her young. She wants the spiders. Let her pass," he said.
Caeth tried to meld with solid stone. He took on the appearance of a twelve year old boy as he hid his head and stuck his face against the rock.
The scorpion rushed by and disappeared into the dark beyond.
"She's gone," Tegedir said.
"If we have to come back this way, knock me in the head and drag me. I'd rather get stuck on a pike than do this again."
Tegedir touched fingers to his throbbing head and they came away bloody. "Let's hope there's a different exit.”
They traveled another fifty feet before the air changed again. A humid current swept into the tunnel and swirled around Tegedir. The roof raised and the sides expanded until they stood and flicked errant spiders from their clothes.
Tegedir's burned foot stung, but he didn't expect it was serious. It would have to wait, regardless. He tested the aching knee. Bruised, not broken.
Two routes diverged from the medium sized room. "Which way?" Caeth asked.
Tegedir limped to each entrance and chose the warmest one. A dragon would want heat to hatch an egg. "Let's try this one."
The torches grew weaker, their fuel nearly exhausted. If they didn't find something else, they'd be lost in the dark. Retracing their path with no light wasn't in the least appealing.
Caeth tripped and caught himself on Tegedir's back. He let go and directed his torch at the floor. Something black and as thick as a sapling protruded from the sand. He squatted next to it and brushed it clean. A massive claw gleamed like obsidian.
It drew Tegedir. He couldn't tear his gaze from it. The slick surface bore no imperfections. He knelt beside Caeth and let his fingers trail its glossy length.
"They're real," Caeth whispered.
"At least they were."
"This claw could be shed. A live dragon could still be here." Caeth bubbled with boyish excitement.
"Maybe." Hope rose in Tegedir despite his efforts to restrain it. If there was a dragon, there could be an egg.
Perhaps he'd always believed it. Why else would he travel this far and risk the lives of his people?
Caeth lashed the claw to his pack and they continued. Bones appeared, first one or two, then dozens, littered across the floor. They were dragon dinner, not dragon.
Tegedir stopped when the torch revealed a human skeleton reclined against the rock wall. Tegedir's feet rooted in the sand. He licked his dry lips, swallowed, and blinked against the unexplained rush of tears. He'd lost count of the bodies he'd seen and the men he'd killed, but this one dry skeleton froze him on the spot and brought a surge of emotion he couldn't explain.
Caeth held his torch closer to the skeleton. The flame revealed a silver and blue medallion resting on the dusty breastplate. Caeth reached toward it.
"Don't!" Tegedir strode forward and shouldered Caeth aside.
Caeth recoiled. "Your eyes."
"We take nothing from this body." He knelt next to the remains and reverently lowered them the rest of the way on the ground. The armor was finely wrought and the sword an exquisite work of Koravelli craftsmanship. He crossed the arms across the chest with a soft clatter. He centered the medallion, an exact match to the one around his own neck, on the breastplate.
"That's a Drakuri symbol." Caeth crept forward and peered around Tegedir. "Seen it before."
Tegedir blew the dust from the vambraces to better reveal the carved leather. A dragon surrounded a circle divided into quadrants. "Where have you seen it?"
Caeth disappeared behind his hair. "In the texts Murdoc collected."
"I read them. I didn't see this."
"Maybe in some she didn't give you."
Tegedir studied Caeth. "And I thought we were getting along."
"I don't remember where exactly."
Tegedir exhaled. "Stop. I don't know why you're lying, but I suspect I'll find out." Though he wanted to linger with his dead kinsman, there wasn't time. Perhaps another day. He'd willingly brave the spiders and scorpions to sit here a while.
The bone trail continued and torches were now spaced evenly down the cavern walls. Tegedir took one from its holder and lit it. It flared to vibrant life and flooded the dark with light. Caeth followed with his own torch.
