“Good. Because we need to…” Jerdren frowned, turned.
“Where’s Kadymus? He’s the one who wanted to search this room!”
M’Baddah leaned against the doorway, Flerys holding him upright. The outlander reeked of things long dead, and his armor was black-splashed.
“The thief? He ran past me, a little while ago. I heard him say something about gold, a statue of a golden beast. One of the guards got between us about then, and I lost sight of him.”
“How long has he been gone?” Jerdren asked.
“Saw him go,” Flerys told her. “Just when Eddis went in here. Little sneak went out past the long doth.”
“He’s lost, if that is so,” Panev said. When Jerdren moved to go after the youth, the priest caught his sleeve. “Search for him, if you will, but there are still undead here. Perhaps this death has released such slaves and unmade them, but I cannot tell, for I am worn.” He turned abruptly and left the chamber.
Jerdren shook his head, then turned away, joining Hebold as the man searched through a deep coffer. Two of the Keep men crowded in to help, but after a few moments, they gave up.
“Too many hiding places here,” Jerdren said. “Panev’s right. This place doesn’t feel any safer, even with that one dead. Let’s go.”
Panev, the cut on his face healing at what Eddis thought to be unnerving speed, stepped aside as Mead splattered oil around the chamber and tossed in a guttering torch. Flames exploded, licked at the dead priest, and roared up from the bedding as the elf mage shoved the door closed.
It was quiet here once again: no guards, and no sign of Kadymus, though Eddis wondered if there were fewer stones on the great throne. Any thief who’d try to cut-purse a swordswoman in a village tavern isn’t bright enough to leave cursed gems alone.
* * *
Sun gleamed pale in the west. They rested a few moments, then set out for level ground.
“Stay alert,” Jerdren warned as he waited for the last ones to join them—Blorys, Panev, and Hebold. The priest looked less grim than he had in a long while, but the supposed hero was muttering to himself, eyes flickering from his two-handed sword to Jerdren, Eddis, the priest, and back again. Blor met Eddis’ eyes and smiled. She smiled back.
Hebold abruptly sheathed his sword and drew a long-bladed dagger, turning it in his hands as he strode down the shelf. He hauled Blorys off balance, fingers gripping his hair, the knife pressed against the young man’s throat.
“Hebold, what’re you doing?” Jerdren said, bewildered. “That’s my brother! Don’t—!”
“Brother!” Hebold spat. “I saw you both drooling over the rubies I pried from that throne. You want ’em, don’t you?”
“I don’t—!” Blorys managed, then fell silent as the blade moved slightly.
“I know you all took things in that cave, gold and gems! You hid ’em from me when I wasn’t looking!” Hebold shouted. “I’ll have all of it now, every last single penny! Or this man dies, and he won’t go easy!”
Eddis took a step toward them. Hebold grinned at her mirthlessly, and the tip of his knife broke skin. Blood seeped down Blorys’ throat.
“Don’t hurt him,” she said, her throat tight and dry. “He’s no threat to you, Hebold.”
“He may not be. But you—!” His eyes gleamed and he licked his lips. “One more order from you—one more word!—and you’re dead, woman! But I’ll kill him, no matter what!”
Eddis gazed into Blorys’ eyes, then met Hebold’s mad glare squarely. “Why kill him? I’m the one you hate—aren’t I? You’d like to cut my throat, but you won’t. Because you’re afraid. Aren’t you?”
“Eddis, no!” Blorys croaked.
Hebold’s arm slacked a little, and he looked confused, angry, nervous all at once. The men around her seemed frozen, except for Jerdren. She could sense him moving cautiously up alongside her. Hebold gave him a mad glare, and he stopped. Behind the barbarian, Eddis realized something was moving. Flerys, spear in hand, edged up a slow, cautious step at a time.
If Hebold knew she was there… He’d never get the chance, Eddis thought in sudden fury.
“You want orders, you barbarian bastard? I’ll give you orders!” she snarled. “Drop that blade and turn him loose, or I’ll gut you where you stand!”
Hebold stared, astonished, eyes shifting from her to Jerdren and back again. He bellowed in surprise as the girl’s spear bit into the back of his knee, and he spun around to slap her down, but Flerys had let go the shaft and fled into M’Baddah’s arms. Blorys surged against the man’s grip and half-spun out of it. Hebold came back around, dagger swinging. The point sank into Blorys’ shoulder. He sagged as the barbarian laughed and threw a second blade at Eddis, but she’d dropped flat.
Behind her, Jerdren choked and went down. Hebold staggered back, his wounded leg collapsing under him. M’Baddah, Willow, and M’Whan finished him off.
“Oh, gods.” Eddis scrambled to her feet and ran to Blorys. There was blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, but his eyes were clear. “Blor—gods, don’t move, Blor! Panev can—”
She turned. The priest was bent over Jerdren, who lay flat and still two paces away. She touched Blorys’ face gently.
“Wait, just wait. Promise me!”
He nodded, and his eyes sagged shut, but he was still breathing. Eddis’ legs gave way. She crawled over to Jerdren on her hands and knees, swallowed dread.
Bloody froth covered the man’s chin. Hebold’s dagger protruded from his belly, just below his short leather armor.
“All… right,” he whispered and tried to smile as she leaned over him. His eyes shifted, flicked over his fallen brother, then met Panev’s squarely. “Priest,” he said. “I remember what… you did for Willow. That… box of powder?” He swallowed, raised his voice a little. “I know you can heal us both. I’m… not as bad off as Blor, though. Take care of… of him first, will you?”
Eddis’ throat closed. “Jers!” Her voice wouldn’t rise above a whisper. “Gods, no, don’t do this!” His fingers gripped her hand, his eyes warning, and she fell silent.
“Do it, Priest,” Jerdren said, “before… one of us…dies…”
Panev gripped Jerdren’s fingers and signed a blessing over him.
“That’s right,” Jerdren whispered. “Go. Save him. I… can wait.”
Eddis’ eyes filled with tears. Jerdren clung to her fingers. “You can’t do this,” she choked out.
“Shhh.” His eyes flicked warningly toward his brother. She could see the priest sprinkling his powder around the knife, remembered the man’s words as he brought Willow back from near death. Panev could use this cure on one man only. Her tears spilled over and fell on Jerdren’s face. He laid his free hand gently against her cheek.
“Don’t cry, Eddis. You’re… my kind of warrior, remember?” He coughed and brought up a smile. “Tough, skilled. And so… so beautiful. Did I ever tell you that? So… gods’ blessed beautiful.” He swallowed, grimaced as pain knifed through him. “Take… care of him for me.”
She brushed her lips against his fingers as they slipped from her hand, as the breath eased out of him on a long, quiet sigh. Eddis closed his eyes, dashed tears aside with the back of her hand, and let M’Baddah help her up and hold her. Flerys clasped her close, tears plowing a muddy path down her face.
The priest staggered up. “The man will live. He will sleep for some hours, though. Those of you with the strength for it, carry him.” He made another sign of blessing over the still Jerdren. “And his brother. We will not leave such a hero behind.”
“What about ’im?” Flerys demanded, black eyes fixed on Hebold.
Eddis stroked the girl’s hair. Her eyes were hard.
“We leave him where he fell, child. He’s got everything he deserved.”
* * *
Ten days later, Eddis sat cross-legged and barefoot in the open doorway of the small, private sleeping room of the Keep’s inn, staring blankly at the paving stones, finger
s absently working through a long strand of dean hair. Even that seemed too much of an effort all at once, and her hands fell to her lap.
They’d been welcomed as heroes, and Jerdren had been given a hero’s funeral pyre. Not one of them could enter the tavern or walk into the open without folk cheering them or asking about their great adventures. The castellan had brought out the treasure they’d sent ahead, and with the rest they’d brought in, each of them was wealthier than they could have imagined, even after shares were set aside for the families of men who’d died out there.
“Adventures,” the swordswoman muttered. She felt old and used, too tired and disinterested to even rise from the floor, though her back was beginning to ache and one foot had gone to sleep. “Heroes,” she said bitterly. “We had luck and skill, and even then…”
Even then, they hadn’t finished the job—not the way she and Jerdren had planned. There were hobgoblins and goblins still alive, including their chiefs. Possibly these would scatter, now that the priest was dead and his temple and chapel burned. The minotaur might keep to his maze and be no threat to those who traveled the road. It didn’t matter, she thought. I won’t go back there again.
Just now, she wasn’t certain she’d go back out to guarding caravans. People here were friendly, but she didn’t feel like one of them. Nothing in the realm called her back there, and now M’Baddah was talking about returning to his homeland. M’Whan would go, of course. She wasn’t surprised when Flerys decided she wanted to go with them.
“She’s a good child, and I’ll miss her, but M’Baddah’s better for her than I would ever be.”
Eddis knew he’d stay if she decided to go back to the road. He’d welcome her if she chose to travel with him. It was too much effort to think about, at the moment.
One good thing had come out of all this: Flerys. It was hard to remember the wild, filthy creature who called itself Blot. Now the girl walked confidently about the Keep. She kept the golden earrings Jerdren had told her to take from the bugbear chieftain’s wife, wearing them on a chain around her neck since they were much too large for her ears.
“I’ll wear them and remember him that way,” she said.
Odd, Eddis thought. Other than that brief kindness, Jerdren had paid little heed to the child.
Blorys—she hadn’t seen him in days. Not since Jerdren’s funeral. I should find him, tell him… She couldn’t complete the thought. Tell him she was sorry his beloved brother had chosen to die, so he could live? Her throat tightened.
To her surprise, most of the Keep men had quietly returned to their companies, and those she saw seemed little changed by what had happened.
Willow and Mead had left hours earlier, stopping to talk to her on their way out. Willow had been sympathetic. Mead tried to talk her into sense. It didn’t matter.
“If I hadn’t dropped when he threw that second knife, Jerdren would still be—” She swallowed hard, shook her head.
“Don’t think that.” Blorys’ voice.
She started, blotted her eyes and looked up, then away.
“Eddis…”
She shook her head again, and this time he dropped down next to her.
“Mead told me. I… gods, I should have come to see you before now. I didn’t know you thought…” His voice tightened. “It’s not your fault. How can you think that?”
“He’s dead, isn’t he?”
“He’s dead because he chose to let me live. If you’re placing blame, lay it on Hebold. Black hells, lay it on Jers for taking the man into that temple with us.” The man’s voice was suddenly tight. “You can’t just sit here, brooding on it. Jers would hate it.”
She frowned, puzzled.
“I saw how he looked at you, Eddis. I know how he felt, because I feel the—never mind.” He got to his feet, reached down and waited until she finally took his hand to let him pull her up. “I know my brother. Wherever he is now, he knows he died doing something heroic and tragic at the same time.” He managed a faint smile. His eyes shone with unshed tears. “I’d like him alive again, so I could strangle him just for that. But it won’t help anything, and it won’t change anything.”
“I—” She tried to smile at the awful joke, bit back a sob. “He was the most annoying, frustrating, crazy—! And I hate that he’s done this to you.”
“What?” Blorys asked quietly. “Left me? Left me in his debt? Stepped aside with a noble bow to leave the field to me? I’m angry with him right now, but that’s grief. He’d have been angry if our places had been changed that afternoon. There was no easy way out of this one, Eddis. No way out at all.”
She shook her head. “What do you mean, the field?”
“I know how he felt about you, Eddis. We both did. I still do. I know it’s hardly the time to talk about it. But, if you’ll listen to me for a little, an idea I had… Well, maybe we’ll have the time, later. To decide, anyway.”
He folded his arms, leaned against the wall.
“I’m done with the road and guarding caravans. Too many memories in that, and the gods know I don’t need the coin. I can’t go back to our home village. I’d be stifled in a fortnight. And you?”
He let the question hang. She shrugged.
“M’Baddah’s restless,” she said after a moment. “Wondering what’s happened to his homeland, thinking that if things are still bad for his people, he might be able to help shift the balance. M’Whan will go with his father, of course. And Flerys—”
“I thought the child was staying with you.”
She smiled faintly. “She sleeps here. Finally understands propriety, at least in a place like the Keep. But no, she’s bonded with M’Baddah, and he’s very fond of her. I’m… I’m glad for the child. She’ll be happy with him, and safe, I think.”
Silence, but a comfortable one. Eddis looked up to see Blorys watching her, his eyes warm. “You said you had a plan?”
He blinked. “Oh—oh, that. Yes. Panev is readying to journey on east, and he’s looking for an escort. I know,” he added with a small laugh as she shook her head. “No more guarding, I said, and I mean it. But this would be one way only, and for my own purposes. You know that the realm used to trade with the lands to the east.”
“Of course. Trading silks and other rare fabrics. It always sounded to me like the kind of fable that grows up when the truth has been lost.”
“Sounds it, but I spoke with Ferec yesterday. The old records from Macsen’s days show that silk and emeralds were traded here, and fine pottery. Maybe those people have fallen on hard times as well. If we went there, we’d know, wouldn’t we?”
Silence.
“Think of it. Not the wealth, we both have plenty of that. But new lands, new faces. Maybe a chance to begin trade for the Keep once again, now that the road’s fairly clear.”
He stood, gripped her shoulder gently. “I need to go see to the horses. Decide whether to sell Jerdren’s gelding or keep him as a pack animal.”
Silence.
“I won’t press you for an answer now, Eddis. Think about it, though. Please?”
She nodded.
“Don’t rush it. We have time.” He hesitated a brief moment, then turned and left.
Eddis gazed down at her hands. The room felt empty without him. Time. Jerdren thought he had all the time there was—until it was too late. She jumped to her feet, leaned out the doorway. Blor was already out of sight, then she saw him striding toward the smithy’s.
“Blorys! Blor!” Her voice echoed, and he turned around as she ran toward him. “I… you don’t need to wait. It’s all right.” The rest of the words wouldn’t come.
He took her hand in both his. “You’ll come with me? Friends? I won’t ask more.”
“No,” she said. “I know what I want.” Her face felt flushed. “Besides, you’re good at guarding my side.”
He smiled and leaned forward to kiss her. “Four horses, then,” he said. “Unless you think we can manage with one packhorse between us.”
&
nbsp; She smiled back. “Four. Just make sure that you don’t get me one named Feather!”
She turned and ran back to her room, her heart suddenly much lighter. East might be an error, or guarding that grim priest once again might be. It might be a serious mistake getting anywhere near those caves again, however briefly. But they’d come through all right. The two of them. Wherever they finally chose to go.
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Keep on the Borderlands Page 28
