by Ashley Capes
“I know one,” Luis said.
“Yes?”
“There’s a path east of here, where the land is cracked and no grains will grow. You must know it.”
Never nodded slowly. “I do.” The Broken Plains were dangerous, especially without a guide – nowhere the Vadiya would want to venture since there were no resources within, no people to conquer.
“Well I don’t know it,” Tsolde hissed.
“A long series of gorges and splits in the very earth,” Luis said. “Legend holds that it was once a fertile place but it’s dry and empty now. Some of the paths are dangerous, but if we can reach it, it would allow us to stay out of sight for a good deal of the journey,” he said. “We’d be within two days of the city when we left it.”
“Then let’s go there,” Tsolde said.
“It’s not without its own dangers,” Never warned. “Bandits least among them – there’s treacherous footing, cruel beasts, the ghosts of the criminals once cast into its depths by the city – if you believe the rumours.”
Raised voices broke the hush, one clear above the rest – Vadiya organising a search party. Never straightened. “They’re looking for us, keep moving.”
Never increased his pace, using the grain as a guide, his birch hand trailing them, tripping only occasionally on uneven ground between the rows. The voices soon faded; they’d chosen a different direction. For now. Moonlight broke momentarily from the clouds, the fields finally opening to a road that stretched north to south, not west as he wanted, but it would have to do.
“Let’s put some distance between us and Ficcepa before we find a camp,” he said.
Several times during their march he’d paused to strain his ears in the dark, unsure of whether pursuit was closing in, unsure if he’d caught muffled hoof beats but always the sound faded and he had to move on. The moon had climbed higher, clouds driven away courtesy of the newly risen wind by the time they found a copse of trees. It climbed up and around a dry riverbed, and while it bore no cave or true shelter, the trunks and an outcropping of rock – a huge slab, really – were better than nothing.
They carried food and water in their packs, but making a fire was too great a risk. Food was a problem for the morrow. Never could only keep his head upright long enough to sweep some rocks from the ground and organise a watch – Luis, who seemed most alert after taking another draught of chila powder, was given first shift. So far, no sounds of pursuit. It seemed they were safe enough.
Arranging his cloak for a pillow, Never lay beside Tsolde, who was muttering about the cold earth, and closed his eyes with a sigh. He slowed his breathing, focusing on the simple pattern and trying his best to ignore the way the earth seemed to dig into his shoulder and hips despite the bedroll. At least his wings weren’t bothered, a small mercy.
Stone clacked against stone.
He sat upright – only to be blinded by a blue glow filling the camp. “What?”
“Never, stay calm.” A woman’s voice spoke softly. “No quick movements – you either, Luis.”
Never raised a hand, squinting until his eyes adjusted to the light.
Elina stood beside one of the trees, an arrow drawn, her hands steady. Her face was awfully pale and her expression wary. A hood concealed her hair and her cloak was torn in several places. An old bandage wrapped her thigh, dried blood staining her pant leg. Not the first time she’d pointed an arrow at him.
“I feel like we’ve been here before,” he said. “I’m glad to see that you’re alive.”
“You’re coming with me,” she said, trying to sound stern but weariness betrayed her; her voice broke.
Never glanced to Tsolde, who frowned beside him, then to Luis, who stood with his spear held ready. The man’s expression was torn between a resolve that seemed to suggest he would defend Never and reluctance to hurt their old companion.
“Elina, you don’t owe him anything,” Never said.
Her eyes flashed. “Do you think so? How easy it must be to live without ties.”
“There are downsides.”
“Tell me all about them on our way back to the palace.” The arrow dipped and she brought it back level with his chest, frowning as she did.
“No. You’re exhausted. You need to rest and I have a brother to chase down.”
Elina stared at him.
“Think it through,” he urged her. “You have to capture and bind me, Luis and Tsolde. Then you have to kill them or force us all to march back across the plains and over a mountain. You have to stay awake the whole time, because we will escape if you fall asleep, for Snow must be stopped, no matter the petty concerns of one King. More, you have to bypass thousands of Vadiya with three hostile hostages. Think you can manage all of that by yourself?”
“Why are you so sure I’m alone?”
“Because you would have called them by now had any of your men survived.” He paused. “I’m sorry, Elina.”
She swallowed. “I cannot break my oaths.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to.”
Elina’s grip on her bow tightened. “One of us must yield. It is the only way to avoid bloodshed.”
“There is another way,” a new voice announced.
A figure loomed from the shadows behind Elina – an impassive expression on an unshaven face.
Vantinio.
Chapter 13.
“My knife will be swifter than any move you make,” Vantinio said.
Tears glistened in Elina’s eyes. Her despair crossed the camp, settling onto Never’s shoulders. She’d come so close to her goal, or so she must have believed. Never stood, moving slowly, keeping his hands raised. Vantinio watched, apparently content to see what would happen next. “Unless you wish for us to be found by the Vadiya,” Never said, “I think we should continue this conversation in the dark.”
Vantinio grinned now. “So you can slip away again, I take it? Give me a little credit, will you?”
“Then what do you want?” Never asked.
Vantinio’s grin faded. “Escape from the creatures which now possess Sirgeto and Mondesa, and which threaten to swallow the entire company.”
Never met the man’s unwavering gaze. The mercenary did not appear to bear any guile... which was no guarantee. Vantinio was difficult to read. He had not released Elina either, who now wore a deep frown.
“How can we trust you?” Tsolde asked.
“Because I fear I will only be safe with your unusual friend,” Vantinio said. “And surely you can believe that a mercenary would switch alliances when the benefit was great enough?”
Luis narrowed his eyes. “So they might switch again and again.”
“True. But the benefit is great now.” His voice softened, an undercurrent of discomfort clear. “It is not just my life that I fear for, Luis, but my very spirit. The blades would take the whole of me; I have seen it in the eyes of my Captain.”
“You could have two dozen men beyond,” Never said.
“Or horses enough for you all to outrun both the Vadiya and Sirgeto, who search for you still.”
If true, doubtless that was the sound Never had heard. He folded his arms. “Let her go.”
“Very well.” Vantinio stepped away and Elina stumbled forward. Her eyes glazed over as she collapsed, bow clattering when it hit the hard dirt.
Never ran to her side, crouching to give her cheek a gentle slap. “Elina?” No response. She was breathing, but up close, the exhaustion was clearer. A bruise had faded near her temple and her lips were cracked too. Another wound on her upper arm had been bound not long ago, blood just beginning to seep through.
He lifted her and called for Tsolde to conceal the light, which she did by wrapping it in her cloak. She left a slither of the light exposed in order to shine it on Elina, whom Never laid across the space where he’d planned to sleep. “She’s beyond exhaustion. She might not survive the night or she might recover with rest – I can’t be sure.” Adrenaline surged through his veins; his weariness was ba
nished. “Luis keep watch. Tsolde, water,” he said, then pointed to Vantinio. “Are those horses nearby?”
“Near enough.”
“Bring them – we need real shelter.”
Vantinio nodded and slipped away.
Tsolde provided a flask, which Never used to dribble water across Elina’s cracked lips. He poured a little more and she swallowed reflexively. He stopped. Too much would be dangerous.
“Do we trust Vantinio?” Luis asked from where he stood nearby, facing the darkness.
“For a time,” Never said.
“We’ll have to rearrange our watch,” Tsolde observed.
“True. But I think we can rely on Vantinio to help us stay clear of Sirgeto at the least – those horses will be quite the boon.”
Elina did not seem to improve but nor did she get worse and when Vantinio returned with several horses in tow, Never lifted her into a saddle and climbed behind her, taking the reins and resting her head against his chest.
“She had this weary nag,” Vantinio said, gesturing to the horse bearing a Hanik-fashioned saddle. “Tsolde, why don’t you take her, seeing as you’re the lightest.”
Luis climbed onto another horse and then they were filing from the copse and returning to the road. Little but starlight guided them but at least they were moving. The night wore on and Elina did not stir save to shiver in her exhausted slumber. He kept her close, wrapping his cloak around them both and eventually the shivering eased but she did not wake.
Elina was likely to cause trouble... but that was no different to before. On the other hand, she was dependable, a great archer and a member of the Order of Clera; there was a chance she’d held back knowledge that would help him in his quest too.
But beneath all of his reasoning was something simple; she was alive and he was glad.
Dawn bloomed in steel, the new light revealing several mist-shrouded homes set back from the road. Some bore the glow of lights in a single room, others had smoke drifting from the chimney but no-one was willing to offer them shelter. The few who even answered their doors were quick to slam them shut, expressions fearful.
“We don’t want that kind of attention,” an older farmer had said. “They’ll kill us all if you’re found.”
Hard to blame them, yet Never found himself ready to kick a door open at the next house – but he did not have to. The windows were broken, the door ajar. Empty rooms, a bare kitchen; not dissimilar to the farmhouse he’d left Tsolde and Luis in before finding his wings. How long ago that seemed now, yet the winter was not even half gone.
“This will have to do,” Never announced from where he knelt beside the cot he’d dragged into the kitchen for Elina. “We need sleep.”
“I can take the first watch,” Vantinio said as he returned from concealing the horses in the tiny stable.
“We’ll share it,” Never said, glancing at Luis and Tsolde.
The mercenary grinned. “Still you doubt me.”
“Give me ten years,” Never replied.
“Then share with me first,” Vantinio said, leaving the room, floorboards creaking.
“I’ll wake one of you in a few hours,” Never told the others as he followed Vantinio.
Outside, light was spreading across the damp fields, catching in the collected dew. It sparkled through the morning mist and it ought to have been beautiful but there was little joy to the sight. A cold elegance; prelude to a funeral perhaps.
Never leant against the home’s outer wall. Vantinio stood nearby, hands busy with a pouch where he’d concealed himself behind the branches of a juniper growing in the yard. It offered the man a clear view of the road in either direction.
“What is that?” Never asked.
“Dried batena, crushed to a powder,” Vantinio said, placing a small pile onto his tongue. He swallowed and gave a shiver. “Keeps me alert, keeps me focused.”
“Dangerous in that form though,” Never said. Too much in a short space tended to cause convulsions and paralysis, black-outs or death.
“True,” Vantinio said.
Never raised an eyebrow. “See anything on the road?”
“Nothing.”
“So what happened to Sirgeto and Mondesa?” Never asked after a moment of silence.
Vantinio sighed. “Those bloody swords you found. At first they were just weapons – powerful weapons. Made Captain and Mondesa faster, stronger. Gave them better reflexes. They were unstoppable in a fight – and those blue blades cut through Steelhawk armour like it was made of nothing stronger than mud. We were winning and everyone was happy.”
“It didn’t last.”
“No, Pacela, it didn’t.” Vantinio took another mouthful of powder before tying the string on the pouch and returning it to his belt. “After a while they started competing whenever we came across Vadiya, tallying their kills. They became secretive about the swords too, no-one else was allowed to touch ‘em. I’d see them holding the blades, eye closed, lips moving. Sometimes, when I spoke to either, I thought I caught a glimpse of blue, flashing in their eyes – usually when we argued about chasing down survivors. I felt we should let them free, to spread word – and fear – of our coming.”
“But Sirgeto wanted to kill each and every one.”
“Right.”
“When did they start sharing thoughts?”
Vantinio nodded. “You heard that too? First time it’d happened was yesterday. And the first time I saw the blue light in some of the other men.”
Never frowned. “Other men?”
“A few of the ex-Imperial. Lads who’ve been with us the longest.” He spat. “Like I said, I had to get out before those cursed swords took me too.”
Perhaps the swords were a bigger danger than he first reckoned.
But Snow was more of a threat. If the swords remained a problem once Snow was stopped, then Never could worry about them then. If he stopped Snow. In the meantime, Sirgeto and Mondesa would slow the Vadiya at least. Pacela let it stay at that.
The rest of the watch passed with few words. When Never traded places with Luis, Vantinio appeared just as alert as when he started. In the quiet of the kitchen, with only soft breathing from Tsolde and Elina, he arranged himself on the borrowed blankets and sighed.
Finally.
Sweet sleep awaited.
“I’m still taking you back as soon as my strength returns.”
Never groaned. “Elina, go back to sleep. Rest.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I’m more than happy to argue with you some more – but only after I’ve slept, do you understand?”
But she didn’t answer.
“Elina?”
Still nothing. He rose onto one arm – her chest rose and fell, she breathed yet.
Good. She’d either lapsed back into unconsciousness or sleep, giving her body more much-needed rest. At least she was alive. Never stretched out a kink in his neck and lay back once more.
Chapter 14.
It was late afternoon when they set out again, hooves clapping on the hard-packed ground. The sun was once more obscured by dark clouds that threatened rain but didn’t seem to ever fall. Twice they took quieter trails to avoid large troop movements; Vadiya heading north, but according to Luis, the stretch of Marlosa known as the Broken Plains lay less than a day away.
Not a place Never was keen to revisit. He’d skirted its edges once, chasing down another fruitless rumour of buried secrets. This time a horn that was said to roll back the mists of the Black Sea. Aside from old bones, both animal and human, he’d found nothing. Twice he’d nearly fallen into a black hole, bottomless as far as he was concerned, and an especially nasty bark lizard had nearly taken out his eye.
Still, Luis seemed confident. “I can guide us through. I’ve travelled most parts. It is near my old home,” he explained.
Vantinio had not argued and neither the seemingly cooperative Elina nor Tsolde knew the land, so they had little to add. An
d no-one wanted to risk running into more Vadiya. Since leaving the abandoned home, Elina and Tsolde spoke often where they now rode together. They usually conversed in Hanik and Never caught little of what they discussed.
Thankfully, he didn’t seem to be the topic.
But Elina had again expressed her determination to take him back to Hanik once she was able. Never had no trouble convincing her to wait until they were in less danger before discussing it again. Of course, he had no intention of going with her. But what to do about her persistence?
He’d already told her; Snow came before the concerns of King Jenisan.
Night seemed to rush in around them before Never grew hungry, yet everyone else was ready to eat. They stopped and made a shielded fire in a clearing within the grain, where Elina ate his share of the dried fruit and hard bread. Like Luis before her, her appetite returned with her strength. Or perhaps it was the other way around?
Once more he shared the early watch with Vantinio.
“Still think I need someone to hold my hand through the watch, Never?”
“For now.”
The mercenary chuckled. “So, will you tell me what happened back in Ficcepa?”
“No.”
“Come now, I know about your curse already – or thought I did. I didn’t think what you did back there was possible.”
“It is.”
He shrugged but his expression remained even. “Then tell me why? You put your escape at risk.”
“You protected us, isn’t that enough?”
Vantinio gave a short nod and asked no more questions, and when Elina replaced him, Never couldn’t hold back a sigh.
She raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t said anything yet.”
“And nor do you need to,” he replied, heading for his bedroll.
She caught his arm and when he faced her, he found her expression to be one of weariness where he’d expected hardness. “I am doing what I believe I must, Never. Are you so different?”
He offered no answer.
“Surely you can see that he rules your every decision.”
Never held her gaze. “Maybe so, but I will change that, Elina. When next my brother and I meet, only one shall walk away.”
