Before proceeding after Kaila, Kreg hobbled to a straight sapling. He said a silent prayer of apology to the steel and drew his sword. Hacking with the sword, he cut a staff about as long as he was tall and stripped it of its branches. With that to lean on, he moved a bit more easily.
One hundred yards. Just one hundred yards. He had never been so tired in his life but in the end he reached the site where the cat-form kinmar had attacked him.
Kaila's pack lay shredded on the ground. Clothing and gear scattered across the trail. Kreg spotted Kaila's tinderbox where it had fallen. He scooped it up and tucked it into his tunic above his belt.
The scattered gear included a pair of low-cut boots. With a quick glance, Kreg determined that they were Kaila’s. Too small. They would never fit him. So, with a bare right foot it would be.
Keeping his right leg straight, Kreg knelt to examine the ground. Tracks crisscrossed over the dirt, a cloven hoof here, a paw there, something very like a hand over there. One set of tracks drew his attention. Where the others crossed each other over and over again, this one laid overtop of everything else. Kreg knew this track. An irregular heel pad, four oval toes, and dimples from claws at the end of the toes. Dog or wolf, only this track stretched as large as Kreg's outspread hand. Alternating right and left prints--just two, not four. Kreg pressed his own left foot next to one of the prints. His print was about the same depth.
A wolf, the size of a man, that walked on two legs. Kinmar, wolf-form. Kreg looked at the tracks. The wolf tracks were undisturbed. Nothing had stepped on its prints afterward. So, a kinmar that had come after the others. And? The tracks dotted the dirt down the trail, the same way the other kinmar had gone. The same way that Kaila had gone.
#
Kaila raced through the forest, driving her horse relentlessly. She had to find, she had to catch, that squirrel-form before it could report back to the others.
Ahead of her, a branch shook. She reined her horse in that direction and spurred it to greater speed. As they raced between the trees, Kaila bent low, her body close to the horse's neck. Her bow was held low at her left side, arrow already on string. Branches tore at her as she passed. She paid them no heed except to lean slightly to the left, using her body to shield the bow lest a branch catch it and tear it from her hand.
Ahead, a flash of gray. She sat upright, drew and let fly. She did not see if she had struck. She leaned back close to the horse's neck and, with her right hand, slid another arrow from her quiver. Slipping her arm between her body and the horse, she brought the arrow to the bow on the left side and fitted it to the string, then used the forefinger of her left hand to hold it in place.
Another shaking branch, this one above a wall of foliage marking the edge of a clearing. Kaila leaned tight into the horse's neck, gripped tight into its mane with her right hand, and spurred it at the wall of vegetation.
On reaching the wall, the horse reared and kicked through it. There. Halfway across the clearing, the kinmar dashed for the opposite side.
Kaila shifted her weight back in the saddle. The horse's gait smoothed as it changed to a more relaxed pace allowing itself to slow. Kaila drew and let fly. Before the arrow struck, she drew another arrow and fitted it to string. The first arrow struck the kinmar in the back. The kinmar stumbled. Kaila let fly the second arrow, then dropped the bow and drew her sword.
The kinmar sank to one knee. Kaila spurred her horse forward. She came alongside the kinmar. She swept out with her sword, catching the kinmar in the neck. The sword bit deep, catching for a moment on bone before the horse's gallop took her past and pulled the sword from the kinmar's body.
Kaila reined in the horse, letting it slow to a trot, then to a walk, then to a stop. She gasped in deep, shuddering breaths mirrored by the horse. Got him. She'd gotten him.
A low growl sounded to Kaila's left. She looked. A cat-form kinmar, one arm hanging limply at its side, crept out of the brush. Kaila raised her sword. The breaking of branches drew her attention to the right. A long long-faced rat kinmar, a deer-form kinmar and a small horse or donkey-form, all armed with short, wooden bows, emerged from the underbrush. Kaila backed her horse. Above, another squirrel kinmar stuck its head out of the foliage. Then, in the middle, a new kinmar emerged. Fully seven feet tall, it stood on cloven hooves. Enormous horns spread from its long-snouted head. Bull form. It held an eight-foot spear in its three fingered hands.
"Twins save me," Kaila whispered. She raised the sword facing the bull-form, then jerked on the reins, spinning the horse around. She spurred it to a full gallop back the way she had come.
Behind her, the lowing of the bull-form told her that the kinmar pursued.
#
Kreg stared at the trail, then looked up and to the woods to either side. He knew he was far behind Kaila. If he followed the trail, he would only fall further behind. He felt for the Knightbond. Had enough of his control returned? He felt it. Fragile. Oh, so fragile. He reached for the power. He could feel Shillond, in far Merona. He felt Keven, back at the palace in Norveth. And he felt Kaila--he turned--that way.
He leaned on the staff for a few seconds in thought. The trail would almost certainly run through easier terrain than cutting directly cross country, but it would also almost certainly wind. The question was which was quicker, the straighter path or the easier?
He decided he had no choice. Even with all the support he could draw from the Knightbond, he could not maintain the pace Kaila would be setting on horseback. If he could not find a quicker path, he could never catch up. So straight it was. He ducked under a bramble bush and into the woods.
From time to time, he crossed the trail as it wove through the woods. Each time he stooped to examine the tracks left. There was the print of a shod horse. Kaila. the oversize prints of other animals on top of that. And lastly, always lastly, the wolf.
At the third crossing Kreg stood and stared down at the tracks. Something was wrong. The horse’s tracks were missing but that did not bother him. The kinmar could easily have trampled those tracks into oblivion. His own tracking skill did not extend to determining if he were gaining or not.
The wolf. The wolf’s tracks were missing. Had the wolf overtaken the other kinmar, passed them perhaps, so their tracks trampled it into dust or had he diverted, taken another trail? Kreg did not know.
Kreg felt for the power of the Knightbond again. There was Kaila. Closer, a lot closer. That did not make any sense. Had Kaila eluded the kinmar and was now coming back to retrieve Kreg? Kreg did not think she could have, not so soon, but nothing else made sense.
Kreg sensed movement to his left. He pivoted, reaching for his sword. A gray-brown blur sped from under a bush and struck Kreg knocking him to the ground. The staff flew from Kreg’s left hand, his right pressed against his chest, pinned by the weight on top of him. The magical binding on his broken ribs stretched under the pressure but held. Kreg felt teeth dimpling the flesh of his throat. He did not think the binding was going to matter. The pressure increased on his throat. Kreg jammed his left hand between his collar and the creature above him and pushed, trying to lever the beast away. The effort was futile.
A moment later, the teeth on his throat disappeared. A harsh voice, spoke, “Tell me, human, can you tell me why I should not kill you now? Your blood would taste sweet indeed.”
Kreg looked up. A wolf-face loomed above him, inches from his own. Kreg felt a hand not his own tugging at the sword in his scabbard, tugging and pulling it free.
“Well?” the kinmar said, “Is there any reason not to kill you?”
A smile played at Kreg’s lips. “Can’t think of a one.”
A short, sharp burst of laughter escaped from the Kinmar’s lips. “No? Well, perhaps your honesty is one.” The kinmar shifted back, relieving the pressure on Kreg’s chest. It tossed Kreg’s sword to the side, too far for Kreg to reach quickly. “So what am I to do with you?”
Kreg sat up. The kinmar backed further away, just out of arm’s re
ach. “I think that’s my line,” Kreg said.
The kinmar laughed again. “You think so? I have been watching. You can barely walk. What can you ‘do’ with me?”
Kreg smiled and called on the Knightbond. He still could not hold much power but he did not need much. He flicked his fingers in the gesture Shillond had taught him and focused power through his hand. Fire licked out from his fingertips.
The kinmar growled and backed. “Magic. I should have killed you.”
Kreg clenched his fist, shutting off the handfire spell before his control could fade and allow the fire to burn him. “I presume you didn’t because you wanted to talk,” Kreg said. “So let’s talk.”
#
Kaila's horse stumbled. Sweat slicked its hide as Kaila reached down to stroke its neck. "Stay strong, boy," she said. "You have done well."
She looked over her shoulder, twisted around to look over the other shoulder, then up at the trees. She saw no one, no kinmar.
"Rest now, my steed." She slipped off the horse's back and held its reins slack. The horse, shuddering with short fast breaths, bent its neck to nip at a few scattered blades of grass that peeked up through the forest litter.
Kaila led the horse at a slow walk down the gentle slope. The sound of running water reached her ears. At the bottom of the shallow ravine a tiny rivulet gurgled. Kaila stooped to scoop up water in her palm to drink. Beside her, the horse bent down and stuck his muzzle into the water.
"We have eluded them for the nonce," Kaila said. She unlashed the small sack that held the last of her provisions from the saddle. Only a hand-sized piece of bread and a small wedge of cheese remained. These she nibbled as she led the horse slowly along the ravine. "Hast run a magnificent race," she told the horse. "An' we survive this day, you shall have oats and apples every day, and all the mares you might wish."
In the distance, a tree shook. Kaila stuffed the last of the bread in her mouth, stooped to scoop up one last handful of water, and mounted the horse. Another tree, closer. Kaila mounted the horse and kneed it forward. "Your pardon, noble one, but I have need of your legs once more." The horse took two irregular steps, then broke into a trot.
An arrow flew from the left, buzzing by Kaila's ear. She reined the horse to the right and kicked its flank. The horse managed a ragged canter. They reached the top of the ravine. Kaila turned to the left. A high-pitched voice shouted from that direction. Rat-form maybe, Kaila thought, one of the kinmar armed with bows. She veered to the right again.
They were herding her, Kaila thought. Short of riding straight into their arrows, she could do nothing to prevent it.
#
The kinmar stared at Kreg. Kreg stared back.
“Your kind made us what we are,” the kinmar said.
“Humans?”
“No.” the kinmar pointed at Kreg’s left hand. “Wizards.”
Kreg opened his mouth to tell the kinmar that the Knightbond was not that kind of magic, then changed his mind before he could speak. Instead, he said, “Do you have a name?”
The kinmar stared at Kreg for several seconds. “No one has ever asked me that.”
“Well, I’m asking now.”
“Pup,” the kinmar said. “You can call me, Pup.”
“Pup, then.” Kreg nodded.
The silence stretched for several seconds. “So,” Kreg said at last, “you say wizards made you. You remember how you were created, then?”
“I remember,” Pup said. “Not all of us do, but I do. You call us ‘kinmar’, ‘half men’, but we are not. We are not any part men. We are ourselves.”
“And you are slaughtering our people.” Kreg shifted his weight, preparing to dive for his sword.
“I spoke against that.” Pup held up a clawed hand. Four fingers, or rather three fingers and a thumb. A shorter digit, remnant of the dewclaw in its original animal form, set back on the wrist. “Do not try it, human.”
“Kreg,” Kreg said. “You gave me your name. Mine is Kreg.”
Pup nodded. “I do not like your kind, and would gladly feast on your bones. But you are many and we are few. If the others draw down your wrath we will all die.”
“Then help me,” Kreg said softly. “Help me stop those others from doing that. Show the other humans that not all kinmar are—“
“Help you? Wizards made us, but they made us by drawing demons to ride us. Do you know what it is like to be ridden by a demon? To be changed into a form not your own? To be able to see and feel but have no control of a body that is no longer your own?” Pup’s eyes narrowed. He growled and leaned closer to Kreg.
Kreg slid backward a few inches. He gathered power from the Knightbond and readied it. A handfire, perhaps, one that would flare hotter than he had shown before. A fire to burn the kinmar and drive it back long enough to reach his sword.
“I do not remember much from before, but I remember that I was happy. Food every day, all I could eat. Romps with other pups. Scratches behind...it does not matter. Wizards, humans, changed me and my life has been misery since.”
“So what, then?” Kreg clenched his fist, ready with the handfire.
“I do not—“ Pup stopped and lifted his muzzle in the air. Kreg felt a breath of wind from the north, the direction he had been traveling.
“The others draw near,” Pup said. “Perhaps we shall talk again. If you live.” He turned and bounded into the woods.
#
Kaila slid off the horse. She had lost track of her direction. Only evading the kinmar mattered and in that she had succeeded for a time. She looked up at the trees. No more motion than the wind. She wondered how long she had before the squirrel-form, with its ability to move swiftly among the treetops, would find her again. If not the squirrel form, then a sharp-nosed kinmar to follow her scent.
Even freed of her weight, the horse stumbled as Kaila led it down the slope. Kaila’s ears strained to catch the sound of running water. She had one more idea. No longer did she worry about leading the kinmar away from Kreg. Now she must evade them long enough--long enough to strike at them at a time and place of her choosing, to become the hunter rather than the hunted.
The sound of water reached her ears. Kaila urged the horse onward with firm but gentle pressure on the reins. The horse shook its head before it followed her. Kaila kept the pace slow. She did not doubt the kinmar would find her soon, but if her plan was to work she needed the horse as rested as she could manage.
The sound of water grew louder. Kaila breathed a sign of relief. The last stream had been too small, far too small, for her plan. The ravine steepened. Kaila turned to walk at an angle down the slope, picking her footing carefully. The horse snorted. He pulled back against the reins, but Kaila maintained firm pressure as she continued. Despite his obvious displeasure, the horse followed her.
A shallow brook splashed down the bottom of the ravine. At the brook edge, Kaila paused to let the horse drink. When the horse attempted to lie down in the water, Kaila pulled him up short with a sharp tug on the reins. The horse responded docilely to her control. Kaila led the horse into the water and downstream.
Concern that the kinmar would find her at any moment urged Kaila to rush, but she kept the pace steady and slow with periodic stops to allow the horse to drink or to nibble at browse at the edge of the stream. She reached a point where the left hand bank was low, a mud bank on the inside of a curve in the stream. She stopped and turned to the horse. Again, the horse tried to roll in the water and again, Kaila forestalled him.
Kaila stood at the side of the horse and undid the girth strap of the saddle. She pushed the saddle and it fell into the stream. She led the now unsaddled horse to the edge of the mud bank. The horse stood, looking at her. She caressed its neck and said a silent prayer of thanks for the stablemaster at Norveth who had chosen this beast for her. She drew her sword and released the reins.
The horse stood as if not yet aware that it had been released. Kaila stepped to the side, careful of her footing in the water. S
he delivered a hearty smack to the rump of the horse with the flat of her sword.
The horse bolted. Kaila watched as it scrambled up the mud bank and on into the woods.
Freed at last from the weight not just of rider but of saddle, the horse vanished among the trees. Kaila watched a moment more then turned to the saddle. Her shoulders ached in anticipation. She picked up the saddle and slung it over her shoulder. Water dripped down her back as she began to trudge downstream.
Some time later, Kaila found a hollow where the stream had undercut the bank. The stream had deepened as others had joined it. She shoved the saddle into the hollow.
Freed of her own burden, bearing no more than her clothes, her mail and her belted sword, Kaila paused. She reached for the Knightbond, feeling for the others through its web. Her eyes snapped wide. How could Kreg be so close? All of her efforts had been to lead the kinmar away from him.
The kinmar had been herding her back toward where she had first met them. And Kreg? Kreg had been following, no doubt using the Knightbond where she had been too preoccupied with her race against the kinmar to do so.
He was so very near and all of her effort, all of it, had been for nothing.
#
Pup disappeared into the brush. Kreg looked back in the direction that Pup had indicated the other kinmar were coming, the direction in which he could feel Kaila's presence. Closer. Why was she coming back this way?
If she were following the kinmar, or the kinmar following her, that would explain Pup's reaction.
Kreg looked down at himself. He was a mess, patched together with magic. Magic held together his broken ribs. Magic held together the torn muscles in his thigh. Magic held back the pain from these injuries. And magic...Kreg probed at his connection to the Knightbond. Magic sustained him, holding back the exhaustion he would otherwise feel. Another way he had not known he could use the Knightbond.
Now Kreg knew why his control of the Knightbond eluded him. Simply keeping him walking expended most of the power he could draw.
The Kinmar (Knights of Aerioch) Page 3
