Nodding quickly, Nundle said, “Very much so, please.”
Jak exchanged a quick look with Broedi. The stoicism was gone from the hillman’s face. For once, he seemed as surprised as any normal soul might be.
Peering back to the soldier, Jak asked, “Speak about what exactly, Sergeant Trell?”
Turning to Jak, Broedi rumbled, “And how is it you know each other?”
“Remember the soldiers I met on the road before I found you in the woods?” asked Jak. Nodding at the Red Sentinel, Jak said, “This is the sergeant I spoke with.” He looked back to Broedi. “It’s what I was trying to tell you in the fort. I recognized him.”
Broedi lifted his eyebrows.
“That seems quite a coincidence.”
Nodding, Jak agreed wholeheartedly, “An impossible one, I’d say.”
Sergeant Trell turned to stare at the looming ruins.
“Speaking of the fort, should I worry about those…whatever they were?”
Nundle shook his head vigorously, saying, “Not at all. They’re confined within the walls. They guard. They will not sally forth.”
“Are you sure?” asked the sergeant.
Broedi, his intense gaze resting on Nundle, rumbled, “The tomble is correct, Sergeant. The Imperial soldiers will not trouble us out here. We are safe from them.”
Sergeant Trell met Broedi’s eyes and, after a moment, nodded.
“Good to know. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to see to my men.” He glanced about the grasslands. “We’ll set camp here and, after that, I’d like to trade tales.” He peered between Broedi and Jak. “What say you?”
Jak looked to Broedi. The hillman was glaring at the soldier, clearly unhappy with the situation.
“Broedi?”
Without taking his eyes from the sergeant, Broedi rumbled, “Yes, uori?”
Nodding to Sergeant Trell, Jak said, “He treated me fairly on the road.” Looking to the soldiers, he added, “And they helped us in the fort. I say we listen. Besides, Nik and Kenders are passed out. We’re not going anywhere for a while.”
After a long moment of quiet, Broedi rumbled, “Agreed.”
Sergeant Trell nodded once. “Good.” Glancing at Jak, he gave a wondering shake of his head, a tiny smile on his face. “Nice to see you again, Jak.”
“You as well, Sergeant.”
With that, the soldier turned and strode back to his men, calling out orders for camp to be set. The soldiers leapt to obey. Even those who had been injured joined in, seemingly unaffected by their ordeal.
Broedi looked at Jak and rumbled, “I’m going to check on your kaveli and iskoa.” He glanced at the tomble before looking back to Jak. “Say nothing, uori.”
As Broedi moved off, Jak studied the soldiers, looking for the corporal and the nobleman’s son but spotting neither. It took a few moments, but Jak realized the group before him was about half the size of the detachment he had visited along the Southern Road. The Sentinels hurried about, putting the camp together, continuously glancing over at Jak and the others with expressions of wonder affixed to their faces.
“They’re probably trying to make sense what’s happening.”
Looking down, Jak found tomble beside him, staring up. “You can add me to that list.” It was beyond implausible that he had come across the same group of soldiers weeks ago. The tomble’s presence made things even stranger.
Nundle continued to peer at Jak, the look upon the tomble’s face one of straining to see something that was invisible. The staring made Jak uncomfortable. After a few moments, he pointed to his brother and sister.
“Well, then…I’m going to go check on them.”
The tomble nodded. “Of course. Go, go.” Nundle smiled wide.
Jak gave the tomble one last curious look before spinning around and walking back to where his siblings lie. He felt the little man’s eyes staring at his back as he strode away.
Broedi was standing over Nikalys and Kenders, his arms crossed across his chest, and glaring at the soldiers. Besides Sabine and Helene sitting on the ground, they were alone. As Jak approached, he looked to Broedi.
“What now?”
“We talk,” rumbled Broedi, his eyes never leaving the men busily setting up camp in the moonlight.
Stopping beside the hillman, he faced the soldiers, too.
“What do you suppose the tomble’s story is?”
“I hope to find out.”
Hesitant to say too much in front of Sabine and Helene, Jak paused before saying, “He seems to know quite a lot about…things.” He felt Sabine’s glare but ignored it.
Broedi rumbled, “He does, does he not? Both who I am and—” He stopped, glanced askance at Sabine, then back to the soldiers. “We will see what all he knows.”
“That’s it,” said Sabine, her tone firm. “I want answers. Now.”
Looking over to her, Jak said, “Sabine, I’m just not sure if—”
Sabine cut him off, saying, “I would have to be blind, deaf, and brainless to not know there is something odd going on. Kenders is a mage. Whatever it is that Nikalys does is plainly not natural.” Her eyes locked onto Broedi. “Not to mention the giant man who can turn into a cat and a bear.”
Facing her, Jak said, “Sabine, it’s not—”
“I’m not done! What are you all running from?” Pointing at the soldiers, she asked, “Them? Because if so, then it seems rather strange they helped you when they found you!”
Jak said, “Actually, I’m not sure why—”
“They ride right in, swords drawn and save us all from getting sliced by spirit soldiers. Bless the gods! Listen to me! ‘Spirit soldiers!’ If I had not seen it, I would never believe it!”
Jak did not respond for two reasons. The first was that he had no idea what to tell her, and the second being he expected she would interrupt him again the moment he opened his mouth. Broedi’s gaze had never left the soldiers throughout her brief interrogation.
When neither of them replied, her eyes, cold and steady, darted between them both.
“Are you running from the Cabal?”
Broedi finally looked away from the Red Sentinels, his gaze shooting to her.
“What did you say?”
Nodding as if Broedi had just confirmed something for her, she said, “Kenders slipped up and almost told me, but said she couldn’t unless you—” she pointed at Broedi “—said it was fine. I was content to let you have your little secret.” She looked to the soldiers and the fort. Only, it seems that it’s not so little.” Staring back to Broedi and Jak, she demanded, “I deserve to know what I’ve gotten me and my sister into!”
When she finished, she sat motionless, her steady-eyed gaze boring into Jak and Broedi. Now that she was quiet, Jak heard a couple of quiet sobs. Helene had begun to cry again. Sabine noticed as well. Her eyes softened as she dropped her head and pulled her sister tighter. “Hey, it’s all right, Helene. Shhh. Everything is fine. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” After a few moments of consolation, Sabine’s glare returned to Jak and Broedi. In a softer tone than before, yet no less intense, she said, “Tell me. Now.”
Jak admired Sabine’s tenacity. She simply wanted to protect her sister, her only remaining family. The same thing Jak wanted. He respected that. Looking to Broedi, he said, “I think we should tell her. She has a right to know.”
Sabine shot him a grateful look, while the hillman remained quiet and pensive. After a long moment, Broedi finally nodded and rumbled, “I will share everything. But I have one condition, uora.”
“And what is that?”
“Once you know the truth, you must stay with us. You cannot leave unless I say you can.”
Not sure that he liked the sound of that, Jak asked, “What are you saying? They’re captives?”
“Name it what you will,” rumbled Broedi, staring at him. “If they know the truth, they remain with us. Too much is at stake.” He peered down at Sabine. “I would, however, prefer that your compan
y be voluntary.”
Jak wanted to argue with Broedi, but a glance down at his unconscious brother and sister shoved away his reservations. Broedi was right. Too much was at stake.
Sabine took only a moment to consider before nodding her head.
“Agreed. Even with the madness that follows you, you remain the sweetest of the sour.”
Helene shifted in Sabine’s lap, stared up to her sister’s face, and asked, “Are we staying, Sabine?” Her cheeks glistened in the light of the soldier’s torches.
Sabine offered a tiny, reassuring smile while patting her sister’s back.
“Yes, dear. We are.”
Helene rested her head back on Sabine’s shoulder and said, “Good.” She yawned. “I’m tired.”
Sighing, Sabine stood from the grass and eyed Broedi and Jak.
“I’m going to get Helene to sleep. When I come back, we are talking, yes?”
Broedi rumbled, “If you so desire.”
With a satisfied nod, Sabine strode off, away from the chaos of the camp. As Jak caught the first few quiet notes of Happy Times at the Fair, he looked over to Broedi.
“I guess your secret isn’t much of a secret anymore, is it?”
With his gaze on Sabine and a slight frown on his face, Broedi rumbled quietly, “Do not worry, uori. I have others.”
Chapter 51: Story
Broedi watched the soldiers closely as they set up camp.
Other than the fact that the Red Sentinels were well over a week’s journey into the Southlands, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. They moved about the prairie, staking horses and erecting tents, their actions efficient and focused. Considering what they had just been through, Broedi thought the soldiers were handling themselves well.
Tuning his full attention back to the bearded sergeant, he watched as the man moved about the camp. The soldier was seeking out each of the previously injured men, ensuring they were fine. It was obvious he cared for his men. Broedi approved.
Each Sentinel waved the sergeant away, insisting he was fine. From the way they hurried about the camp, they definitely looked it.
With a slow, frustrated shake of his head, Broedi peered down at Kenders. She had been extremely lucky.
The energy it took to summon and control Strands of Life was much greater than other types of Strands, although none knew why. When a Life mage aided someone, the accepted approach was to allow Weave to help the person’s body heal itself. A small Life Weave and a full day’s rest could do the same thing that an enormous amount of Life energy could do all at once.
What Kenders had done was beyond astounding. The tomble had been correct in his assessment: it should have been impossible. Broedi doubted that even Eliza could have accomplished what her daughter had. Kenders was strong with the Strands. Stronger than he could have imagined.
Yet, despite her prodigious capabilities, her understanding of the Strands was in its infancy. He hoped there would be sufficient time to let her grow and learn. For, as of this moment, she was unprepared for what was surely coming. They all were.
He reached up to scratch his chin as he stared at her, wondering how to handle what seemed to be the next challenge with the young girl. Nikalys and Jak had alluded to Kenders’ impetuous nature—and Broedi had seen flashes of it—but impulsivity paired with her gift made for a sour mixture. A weary sigh slipped from his lips. Dropping his head, he rubbed his eyes. He was tired. Very tired.
Eliza and Aryn’s children would be sleeping for a long time, Kenders perhaps more than a day after her foolishness. The truth was he had no idea how long it would take her to recover, but he knew it would be a while. And that meant he would need to deal with the new problem facing him now.
Lowering his hand, Broedi blinked a few times and peered back to the soldiers. His gaze fell upon the Borderlander whom they had found inside of the ancient fort. The young man was standing off to the side by himself, wearing a perplexed expression. He had a ragged look to him and the old injuries on his face spoke to confrontations prior to the one in the fort. He was staring at the soldiers, seemingly caught between trying to decide if he should stay in place or run off into the night.
Tilting his head in Jak’s direction, Broedi rumbled, “Uori?”
Jak still stood beside him, quiet, lost in his own thoughts. He looked up at Broedi.
“Yes?”
Nodding to where the stranger stood by himself, Broedi said, “I would like you to speak with the Borderlander. Find out who he is and why he was in the fort, please. His presence here is unusual.”
“More unusual than fifty Red Sentinels, a tomble, and a Tracker?”
A slight smile crossed Broedi’s face.
“Perhaps not, but it is close.”
Nodding, Jak said, “I need to thank him, anyway. He saved Kenders. Twice.” He strode away, aiming for where the Borderlander stood looking lost and very alone.
Broedi turned his gaze onto the other mismatched man in the camp, the gray-clad Tracker and found the Constable already staring back at him. He held Broedi’s gaze for a long moment, glaring without flinching, before shifting to peer at Nikalys and Kenders. With a tiny shudder, the man turned and hurried away quickly, into the hubbub of the soldier’s camp. Broedi’s eyes followed the man until he disappeared among the picketed horses. Thonda’s Strand twitched. Something about the man made Broedi very uneasy.
Frowning, Broedi looked back to the tomble and found him conferring with the sergeant some distance away. He tried to hear what they said, but the din of the camp drowned out their conversation. Instead, he simply watched the pair, observing. The tomble repeatedly glanced over at him with nervous eyes, clearly aware that Broedi was scrutinizing them. After the fifth time looking over, the tomble nodded to Broedi while saying something to the sergeant. The man turned, said something in response to the tomble, and the two began to move in his direction.
Broedi waited.
When they reached where he stood guard over the Progeny, the sergeant spoke without preamble.
“Are you ready, Shapechanger?”
Broedi nodded.
“I am.”
“Good,” replied the soldier. “Should we speak here or…?” The sergeant trailed off and glanced at Sabine. The moment Helene had fallen asleep, the young woman had returned to sit beside Nikalys and Kenders. Helene was softly snoring in her lap.
“Here,” rumbled Broedi. As he lowered himself to the grass, he caught a quick, grateful look from Sabine but did not acknowledge it. He kept his gaze fixed firmly on the tomble and the soldier.
The sergeant sat opposite Broedi, the tomble on the soldier’s right, facing Sabine. Laid out between them were Nikalys and Kenders, asleep and oblivious. Broedi considered retrieving his pipe, but his bag was where the injured soldiers had been and he did not want to leave the children alone.
Once settled, the sergeant cleared his throat and asked, “Are we waiting for Jak and your other companion?”
Broedi supposed that, from their point of view, the Borderlander was a part of their group. After all, when the soldiers had arrived, the dark-skinned man and his horse had been standing with them.
Shaking her head, Sabine said, “No, the Border—”
Interrupting her, Broedi said, “They will join us shortly.” The tomble and sergeant already seemed to know quite a bit, there was no need to clarify what they did not. At least not until Broedi got more from them. Sabine stared at him with questions in her eyes, but he ignored her again.
With a resolute nod, the Red Sentinel sergeant said, “Fine. First, proper introductions. My name is Nathan Trell, Master Sergeant with the Red Sentinels out of Smithshill.” With a knowing glint in his eyes, he asked, “I believe you recently passed though there, yes?”
Broedi remained quiet while keeping his face clear of reaction.
After a few moments, Sergeant Trell pressed his lips together and turned to his companion. The tomble sat, gawking at Broedi. Realizing that everyone was waiting fo
r him to introduce himself, his eyes went wide
“Pardon me. I…ah…I am Nundle Babblebrook of the Thimbletoe Principal in the Five Boroughs. A former merchant out of Deepwell, a former student of the Strand Academies, and now…well, I don’t have much of a position with anyone anywhere.”
Considering what they knew about the attack on Yellow Mud, the mention of the Strand Academies made Broedi instantly suspicious. Managing to keep his tone even, he rumbled, “A former student of the Academies, you say?”
“Ah, yes. You see, I was studying there when I found this letter in Preceptor Myrr’s office. After that, I went to the docks to find a boat—”
Sergeant Trell cut in, saying, “Nundle? In order, please, else we’ll all be very confused.”
With an apologetic look, Nundle said, “You’re right, Nathan. Sorry.”
Nodding, the sergeant turned to Broedi, leaned forward a bit, and said, “You have our names now. Would you care to share yours?” When Broedi did not answer, he shifted his gaze to Sabine. “What about you, miss?”
Sabine looked up at Broedi with uncertainty, awaiting guidance from him. Seeing no harm in sharing the farm girls’ names, Broedi nodded.
Sabine eyed the sergeant and said without hesitation, “Sabine Moiléne.” Nodding to her sister, she added, “And this is Helene.”
Offering a polite smile of greeting, the sergeant said, “Your names betray you as Southlanders. Might I assume you two are from the farm by the river?”
Broedi’s eyes narrowed. They knew quite a bit.
After a long, quiet moment, Sabine nodded, muttering, “We are.”
“I see,” said Sergeant Trell quietly. With some hesitation, he asked, “And…and was it your husband you buried?” He glanced at Helene. “Her father?”
With a quick shake of her head, Sabine replied, “Gods, no. It was…” She paused, took a deep breath, and said. “It was our father. Helene is my sister.”
Expressions of deep compassion filled both strangers’ faces. The tomble leaned forward to murmur, “Oh, my. I’m…I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Progeny (The Children of the White Lions) Page 54
