‘For a time it enjoyed the wealth and status of being a favoured ally of the king’s,’ I replied, ‘but, ultimately, it gained nothing.’
‘Why did they support Telby, which wasn’t even a Kriite nation?’ she asked.
‘We believe all nations were once Kriite, if you look back far enough,’ I answered. ‘My father had always encouraged the Jarians to support King Aabyn, who was a friend of his. As King Aabyn’s territory expanded, Telby became the most powerful realm in all of Chryne, and the tyranny of its ruler was revealed. Aabyn’s heart had never been in tune with the will of Krii, no matter what my father thought—he desired nothing but revenge, riches and glory.
‘His greed brought much suffering to the less fortunate, and even some of the noble families fell on hard times. King Aabyn made plenty of enemies for himself, so it was not surprising he fell to his death on a climbing expedition in the Kiayr Ranges.
‘When his spoiled younger brother, Flale, took over, a number of regents revolted. The Jarians were again called to help in two senseless battles. Poor warfare on the new king’s part led to most of them being killed.’
‘My eyes are being opened to this human world of yours,’ Rekala told me. ‘Though I’m not so sure I want to know any more. So many lives, so much suffering.’
‘Telby itself has known peace for most of my life,’ I replied, ‘but I imagine King Flale will want to expand his kingdom once again, when his armies are strong enough. And this time I bet he’ll do it without the help of Jaria.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Because we are weak, now,’ I replied. ‘Before the Telbion Realm Wars, years before I was born, our people numbered in the thousands. Now we barely have enough to manage the herds and crops.’
‘Is there no hope?’ Rekala asked, with such innocence and concern it pained me.
‘We can still recover. There are probably a few thousand Rada spread through the lands who left Lyth or Jaria, or were born somewhere else entirely.’
I buckled the saddlebags onto the saddle and grabbed a bit of Rekala’s mane so I could jump on. Something caught my eye to the south—two men came out of a stone building. I frowned at them, but continued to climb up onto Rekala’s back.
One of the men approached us. Rekala’s head came up and her body went rigid beneath me.
I patted her shoulder. ‘Easy.’
‘Hail, traveller. Could I offer you a round of ale?’ the man asked.
He looked tall and stocky in his baggy, dark green trousers, cream-coloured doublet and brown leather jerkin. The offer was tempting, but there was something suspicious about him, and I had already decided to get back to Jaria as soon as possible.
I pointed to the sky, ‘The day-star is going down, friend, and I have a ways to go.’
‘And where are you going?’ the other man asked. ‘You only just arrived.’
‘They’ve been watching us.’
‘I’m sorry I didn’t detect them,’ Rekala apologised. To her, all the humans in Tez were a threat, but she didn’t yet have the experience to recognise suspicious behaviour. As soon as we returned to Jaria I would ask Uola to teach her how to change form and scout for trouble in a town.
‘There’s nowhere you can reach before the day-star sets ‘sides Tasset and it’s that way,’ the man added.
He pointed across town where I had just come from. He was a large fellow with hairy arms and a thick, sharply-wedged beard. I looked more closely at the closest one’s hands and neck, trying to see what jewellery he was wearing and where his allegiances may lie, but his collar was high and he was wearing gloves.
‘Camping in the wilderness isn’t safe for ordinary travellers,’ he said menacingly.
If they’d been watching us, then they knew I was a Rada. I felt a strange mixture of elation and dread.
He walked forward, but Rekala sidled away from him. She snorted and rose up slightly on her back legs.
‘Steady girl,’ I whispered.
‘Should we run?’ she replied in my mind. ‘They don’t smell like any other humans I’ve met.’
‘Who are you?’ I asked the man boldly. Surely they were not common thieves. The only valuables I had were my mother’s pendant, the Holy Scroll and a bundle of oily fish.
‘I’m Arak,’ said the hairy one, in an accent that sounded familiar. ‘I just want to talk wit’ you.’
He came closer, but Rekala shimmied away again.
‘What do you want with me?’ If they knew I was Rada, why pick a fight?
He made a grab for my foot. Rekala reared up, lashing out with her hooves. In the scuffle, neither of us noticed the second man approach from behind. He pulled me off backwards. I thudded to the ground, winded. Rekala wheeled on him, screaming with anger. The scream quickly became a roar as she resumed her natural form. The saddle and packs fell to the ground with a clunk.
The man glanced at Arak before drawing his sword. A magical hum issued from the blade, but this was no Tolite-kin. Only Kriites could have one of those. Green Zeika flames appeared along the edge of the blade. Rekala coiled and sprung like a catapult. I sensed fire brushing her belly and jumped to my feet in fear, but she knocked the sword from the Zeika’s hand and drove him to the ground.
I stood up slowly, glaring at Arak.
‘Back away or your comrade dies.’
‘You are young,’ he laughed. ‘In our world, the weak perish and the strong live f’ever.’
Rekala wrestled with the fallen Zeika, pushing her teeth closer to his throat.
‘Shall I slay him?’
‘Nay, Rada. I do not want a human death on your conscience unless there’s simply no other way.’
During his struggles with my icetiger, the man’s neck charm had come free of a concealing pouch. It showed a single triangle outside a circular Xeldfet symbol. I knew enough about Zeikas to recognise the triangles as initiation points. One initiation point meant he was a Warder, capable of casting wards, including wave-wards and spirit circles. Luckily, his hands were pinned at his sides, beneath Rekala’s bulk.
‘He is struggling. What do you want me to do?’
She was close enough that a knife pulled from a sheath could do her serious damage.
‘Don’t let him get his hands out. Bite him, if necessary, but try not to make a kill.’
‘Very well, if you insist,’ she grumbled.
‘I’ve heard it is foolish to underestimate a beastman,’ Arak crooned, ‘but you are so fresh, you do not have the skill to defeat me.’
He pulled a huge broadsword from a sheath at his back. The steel was red hot, steaming even in the warm air of late afternoon. A stinging drop of sweat slid into my eye. It was never too late to run, but Rekala was still struggling with the fallen Warder.
I picked up my fishing spear from where it had fallen, with the saddle. Arak laughed and charged at me with the hissing broadsword. I dived out of the way, swiping the back of his leg with the spear. His clothing was tough enough to protect him from the barbed point.
He struck at me low and high. I jabbed for his stomach and neck, blocked an uppercut, and jumped back. The point of his broadsword missed my head by a fraction as I ducked and thrust the point of my spear into his boot—the hard iron cap deflecting the clumsy shot.
Arak hammered at me with wide, powerful strokes—his motions were not precisely controlled, but there was little that could stop that steaming hot blade. The sword arced toward me and I threw my upper body back to avoid it. It cut through the ground, passing through rock and dirt with ease, and I barely managed to move my leg in time.
A red split appeared on my thigh, remarkably painful for so small a scratch. I had heard Zeika weapons could be strengthened by sorcery, somewhat like bonded Kriite weapons. The ruby-steel withdrew from the ground in one swift movement, and Arak came at me again.
Our fight brought us closer to Rekala and the Warder. He swung his body around as I passed, causing me to trip backwards. I held the spear helpless
ly before me, but it snapped in two under Arak’s heavy blows. The heat of his sword caressed my throat.
I morphed into wolf form and darted away from the deadly weapon. The fur along my spine bristled as I turned to face him. He seemed surprised, but his sword did not waver.
It was so soon to be using another form in combat. Having only just learned how to transform, I wasn’t sure if I could fight with tooth and claw. Nobody had expected me to encounter Zeikas on this trip. What were they doing here—weren’t they still banished from Telby? I looked from Arak to Rekala and the Warder.
‘They must die.’ Rekala roared in outrage. Hearing her ferocity, even Arak paused in fear.
‘We run,’ I decided.
‘No.’ the icetiger snarled.
Rekala closed her teeth over the prone Zeika’s shoulder, and he screamed in pain.
‘Stop, Rada-kin. Let him go. We flee!’
With his blood on her lips, it took a supreme effort for her not to feed.
‘As you command, Talon.’
She slowly lifted her weight, letting him scramble away, following after.
While she was chasing him, Arak advanced on me, still in my wolf form, with the sword. I ran three yards away from him, turned and rushed him, changing direction at the last moment. Always keeping the sword within sight, I ducked and dashed in circles around the panting Zeika. He swiped at me time and time again, and I avoided him, sometimes narrowly, sometimes by a wide margin.
Rekala joined me, a few minutes later, barrelling into the Zeika with all the power of her natural form. With claws outstretched, she pushed Arak away from me, simultaneously avoiding the sword. Arak fell heavily, punctured through his armour, breathless and stunned.
I stumbled back into my natural form, and Rekala became a horse again. I lifted the saddle off the dusty ground and fastened it, and the saddlebags, on again. I climbed weakly onto Rekala’s back, the transformation having taken its toll. When I was settled, she pivoted on her hind legs and launched into a canter. Her hooves clattered on the hard-packed road and thumped on the dirt path into the forest.
I briefly considered returning to Tez and seeking aid from the Town Watch, but I did not know who to trust. Even with other Rada in town, it seemed wiser to vanish into the woods as only a Rada could.
Once we were surrounded by trees Rekala slowed to a trot and left the forest track. We decided to travel in wolf form, walking on dry riverbeds and leaf-litter to mask our trail.
‘Where there’s one or two Zeikas, you can be sure there will soon be more,’ I said.
That old adage had suddenly gained significance for me. I wondered if it was just a coincidence that Zeikas were back in Telby just when I received a Rada-kin. Coincidence or providence?
Rekala picked her way gingerly through the foliage, being careful not to break any branches.
‘What do you think they wanted with me?’ I asked my tiger-kin.
‘From what you’ve told me, Zeikas don’t need a reason to kill Kriites,’ she replied.
I frowned. ‘They weren’t trying to kill me.’
She chortled mentally, ‘You’re probably right. Otherwise you would not have escaped.’
I gave her an indignant kick. She bucked in response, throwing me forward onto her wither.
‘Stop it,’ I said wearily.
‘It isn’t only me who’s tired, is it?’ she replied, suddenly serious. ‘I’ll keep watch tonight.’
Rekala’s understanding emotions filled my mind. She didn’t really think I’d made any bad judgements, and she had more respect for my fighting ability than she let on. We both knew I lacked experience—and a good weapon. That was obvious from the way I’d fought against Arak, but there was some basic skill there, and my fitness was at its peak.
‘That one you were fighting was much older than you,’ Rekala stated.
‘Actually, more than you know,’ I replied. ‘He looked about thirty years old, but that’s around about the time most Zeikas stop ageing.’
Rekala struggled to comprehend. ‘Now that I understand the concept of ageing, you are telling me there are some who do not age?’
‘They seem to think they can live forever,’ I replied, ‘but even Zeikas aren’t immortal. They only postpone the inevitable through sorcery.’
We trotted and loped through the forest until I could barely maintain wolf form. Rekala stopped in a tiny grove sheltered by a large tree on one side and tumble of rocks on the other. The grass was soft and green, fed by a small spring at the base of the rocks. I resumed human form carefully bringing all the gear back out of the waves with me.
Without complaining about her own fatigue, Rekala slipped into the forest to scout for Zeika followers. I spread my blanket roll on the ground and rested my head on the still-packed hide shelter.
Hours later, Rekala settled beside me. Her warmth and familiar smell brought a smile to my lips. There was a carnivorous tang to her breath as she chuffed beside my ear. I could just make out her still form in the darkness, a heaving mass of stripes and speckles. She appeared to be completely at rest, but her senses were alert. She would remain watchful for a few hours and allow me some needed sleep.
Chapter Five—Anzaii
I awoke to a harmony of bird calls. The mists of dawn were thinning, but the light remained poor. Rekala was hunting deer nearby and was not having much success.
I opened my mouth to yawn when I heard a whisper of movement above me. Strong hands hauled me up and shoved me against a tree, face first. The man grabbed my wrists, twisting them up until it hurt. A mountain barbarian?
The man spat on the ground, gripping my wrists tighter. ‘Stop struggling, boy.’
He didn’t have the poor speech of the barbarian mountain tribes. It was the same accent as the men from yesterday. I was just as surprised they’d taken the trouble to find me as the fact that they’d been able to.
‘What do you want with me?’ I demanded.
I felt the touch of ice-fire on my wrist—he was attempting to ward me with a binding spell that would cut me off from the waves. Before the Zeika could finish the incantation, Rekala crashed through the trees, roaring ferociously.
I wrenched free from the distracted Zeika and twisted around. It was the Warder Zeika from yesterday, looking angrier and more dishevelled. He was unable to draw his sword with Rekala attacking. She kept him busy stumbling and leaping out of her way while I quickly buckled on my bow and arrows.
Rekala grasped the Zeika’s lower leg in her jaws and dragged him several feet. He made a grunting noise, somewhere between frustration and fear.
Rekala ran back to me, blurring quickly into horse form. We both knew our fastest getaway would be with me riding her—I was still too bleary-eyed from sleep to make a safe transformation. I grabbed a bit of mane with my free hand and jumped onto her back, abandoning my gear. She trotted past the Zeika with a haughty flick of her tail. His pants were torn in several places and he seemed unable to get to his feet.
Rekala sensed the approach of another horse before I could hear anything. Moments later, a chestnut warhorse thundered through the forest with Arak on its back.
‘Don’t they have anything better to do?’ Rekala grumbled.
We moved out into an open field and the morning mists were suddenly lit through with light, making the ground glow and sparkling dew drops fly off the yellow grasses. Arak and the warhorse emerged from the shadows of the forest behind us, catching up with alarming speed. I squeezed Rekala’s sides with my heels, even though she knew exactly what I was thinking.
A loud clattering came from our right where two horses and a war-carriage careened toward us over the plain. Standing spread-legged on the back were two Zeikas with silver crossbows. The caped driver was smiling with elation. As we crested a small rise, I could see a supply cart in the middle distance with more Zeikas on board. Others were standing around at some kind of camp site, eating breakfast. Some of them looked surprised to see us, but they quickly set down
their meals, gathered weapons and moved to intercept us.
‘This is really serious.’ I said, fighting down my panic. The last time I had seen this many Zeikas was a skirmish in the desert a year ago. I had witnessed six of Jaria’s warriors repel a force of twice their number.
Rekala spun to a halt, kicking up a spray of dew. The chestnut warhorse slammed into us, I hit the ground rolling, and pain blazed in my shoulder. Rekala resumed her natural form and ran at one group of horseback enemies.
Gasping for breath, I grabbed for the bow and quiver strapped to my back. It was half-crushed from the fall, making it difficult to get an arrow out. The first two arrows missed by a humiliating distance.
Zeikas surrounded me from all sides. They were closing in at the gallop.
Arak was trying to get back onto his horse, but he had injured one leg in the fall. I loosed a third arrow in his direction and was dismayed when it struck his horse in the flank. The animal squealed and bucked like a demon, swaying dangerously close to the oncoming cart.
Its flailing hooves struck one of the carthorses. The carthorse tripped and fell, bringing the entire thing to a sliding halt.
I took my chance to run, but three Zeika men were coming at me on foot while two others approached from the other side, swords at the ready. I closed my eyes and sought help from Sy-tré, who answered my call immediately. I shifted into my black wolf form, lusting momentarily at the dizzy sensation of weightlessness as the rules of the natural world were defied.
‘Fire!’ Rekala screamed. ‘Run!’
The Zeikas were channelling their magic towards us—with their palms up, green fire spewed forth in streams.
I turned and fled, panic gripping me as I bounded through the grass. I heard the thundering of hooves behind us. I stretched my four legs until they burned with agony, but the hot breath of the horse swelled behind me. Muscles strained and locked tight, I faltered to the right, and the horse’s hoof clipped the side of my head. White-hot stars exploded in my vision as I pitched over and lay still in the swaying grass, thrown back into my human form.
As the pain ebbed through my head, I could still feel the quiver of arrows on my back digging into my shoulder. I thought about reaching for the marble-hilted knife at my side, but the Zeikas were upon me too fast, pointing crossbows and polearms at me.
Talon (The Astor Chronicles Book 1) Page 6
