We traveled through the night, exhausted but determined. Early the next morning, we passed through another village. This place appeared much the same as the last, but the silence of human voices was more like a hush, as if those voices waited, breath held expectantly ahead. And there was something for us to find. In the center of this somewhat larger village, five women were staked to the ground, spread-eagle and naked in the bloody grass. Four had obviously been dead several days, and the second to last seemed dead only hours. Selas nudged her with a booted toe. Like the others, her thighs were covered with dried blood, her face badly slashed, some slashes deep. Unlike the others, her lips were cracked for want of water and her eyes were closed. After a glance to confirm Dera yet slept, I knelt beside the still body. I could see that she had once been lovely, far more so than even Dame Lorenn had been. With sadness, I leaned down to brush some of her dark, blood encrusted hair off her face, then sat up in shock. As I had leaned down, I had heard a low, rasping breath.
"She's alive!" I barked out. Selas crouched beside me.
"Not for long," he said, biting the inside of his lip in his usual sour manner. "It would be mercy to end it for her." He put his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"We'll take her with us," I said sharply. The old man stared into my face with his storm-cloud blue eyes. I knew he thought I was receiving another other-worldly message, and I let him think that. I could not leave her behind, alone, when she had suffered alone for days. No more. If she died, let her die in our company. I let the strength of my resolve harden my eyes. Selas stared at me a moment longer, then looked away. While he unbound her bruised and bloody limbs, I rubbed some grease on her lips and dripped water into her dry mouth. It took some coaxing by way of rubbing her throat, but she soon swallowed reflexively. I grabbed the healing supplies out of the cart and bandaged her up between her legs, then wrapped her in a long woolen shirt and a blanket from Judge Tally's manor. Selas lifted her into the cart with some help from me. She lay silent and still beside the groggily awakening child. There was no time to wash her. Already I knew our delay brought danger closer to us.
Dera had to eat breakfast while the cart was in motion, but this did not bother the child, who had a naturally cheerful demeanor. Our unlikely, armored knight believed the backwards scouts must be close behind. We had seen no sign of them, but I knew Selas was right. They couldn't be far. We had no effective way to conceal our passage. With another passenger, we were moving slower than before.
Dera carefully tended her unmoving companion, giving her small drops of water every now and then. She washed the woman's face and combed some of the blood out of her hair. When she was done, she ate some flatbread and dried fruit with more enthusiasm than I had hoped for. So what if she had suffered terrible and life-altering injuries, I thought with a reluctant grin. She still had her appetite.
We stopped briefly for a noon meal. Selas showed me the basics of my crossbow, and I took a few shots at some trees lurking suspiciously nearby. He didn't say aloud what I was sure he was thinking: I had better get used to this weapon quickly, because I would soon need it. I felt as if someone's eyes were about to fall on us, and there was no crack or hollow to hide in.
"We might as well wait here," I said. "You know as well as I do the backwards scouts are just behind us. They'll catch us today whether we prepare or not."
Selas muttered something under his breath at the sky. "How much time do we have?" he snapped.
I shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. I'm new at secret mind powers."
He rummaged around in the cart for a while, heedless of the unmoving woman. "How many?"
"More than two, less than five. Maybe three."
He snorted. "Better'n nothing."
I braided Dera's hair gently into two slim, blonde braids, to calm me more than to groom her. She was inexpertly braiding sections of the sleeping woman's still blood-grimed hair and telling me in awed tones about three very large frogs she had once seen, all sitting together on a stone behind her house. I couldn't help glancing toward the western end of the good sized, oval clearing the cart was now parked in, exactly in the middle. Our grouchy protector had placed it there so the backwards scouts would have to come out into the open to inspect it. Selas was carefully hidden, armed with his wide-blade sword. There was not a sound aside from Dera's chatter, but my heart was beating loud enough for Selas to surely hear it, forty feet away.
He apparently felt no need to fidget, and I realized I'd never seen him do so. Every movement of his was accounted for. Where other people might absently straighten their clothes or hair, scuff their feet or chew a lip, he had no movements in the absence of his attention. I wished for his fortitude.
I whispered to the child, "Lay down and be still now. We have work to do. Keep your head below the side of the wagon. Be brave." She nodded solemnly and obeyed, squishing herself close to her larger companion. I would have preferred to hide her as well, but the old man recommended against moving either of the wounded. He had told me in a steady voice with absolute confidence, "None will harm them while I live." I nodded and he added, "And if you and I are dead, it may as well be quick for them." Shuddering, I acknowledged the truth of his awful words.
As quickly and quietly as I could, I moved to the edge of the clearing opposite Selas and squatted behind some carefully selected bushes. From here I could watch the wagon without being seen. At least, that was our hope. The crossbow was ready, the dagger rested at my hip in an old but serviceable scabbard Selas had among his effects. My spirit was near hysteria but as close to ready as it could be. I knew it was a matter of moments before the backwards scouts burst through the edge of the clearing and possibly ended our flight, and not by capture. I tried to keep my muscles loose although the trembling made them want to tighten.
They didn't burst into the clearing, they slid into it. Three black-dressed, black painted men noiselessly entered our ambush with no obvious thought of danger. Their weapons were drawn as they saw the wagon, but not yet raised, and they spread out, one to each side, one in the center. The middle one was bald and stocky. The other two had long hair, unbound, one taller and one shorter than the center man.
Selas almost flew as he came for them, leaping over his concealing bush and puncturing the tall scout before they had even turned to face him. The shorter man moved to engage him, a short, flat blade flashing in the dappled light. The center man began to run for the wagon, raising a heavy axe as he came.
I raised the crossbow. Steadied it. Aimed. Shot.
Missed.
Pure cold terror shot through me. I jumped up. He reached the wagon, lifted his axe above his head. My hand flung out, dagger ready.
And the dagger shot from my hand so swiftly I could not see it, burying itself in the black painted throat of my enemy. So slowly it seemed it could be some cruel joke, he fell backwards, disappeared behind the wagon. Belatedly the donkey bleated out in fear, stamping its feet.
Selas was beside me, spattered with blood. With the world spinning, I fell to my knees. I stared at my empty hand, feeling again how the dagger had warmed and shot out with no more help than my urgency.
"Never saw your mother do that," he said. He helped me out of the bush. I glanced around, saw the last backwards scout convulsing on the ground, his skull crushed by a horrible, open wound on the side of his head. Stumbling, I made it to the side of the wagon. The pain in my head was back and I tried to calm it by pressing my hand to my forehead.
Dera lay half buried beneath the comatose woman. She was white with fear, her eyes painful to look upon. "It's all right," I said. "It's over. You were very brave. We're leaving now." I felt Selas place my dagger, sticky with blood, into my hand. We cleaned and gathered up all the weapons, even the backwards scouts', me hurriedly, Selas more casually.
"We'll want them if we leave them," he had explained in his hard voice, glaring at me as if daring me to disagree. I, of course, had agreed. There's nothing more useful than something you've left
behind. We stowed the extra weapons beneath the wagon seat.
At least with the scouts dead, we felt safe enough to stop for the night. Around midnight, we set up camp under a grand old fire pine, at least two hundred feet tall. There were few enough fire pines in Dragon's Tooth, and these few were revered. It was considered a blessing to camp beneath one and a curse to harm one, the elders said each fire pine was specially protected by a powerful guardian spirit. For myself, I felt a strong, welcoming presence. Whether it was a guardian spirit or the watchful eye of the Goddess, I couldn't say. After a short prayer, I checked to make sure the two sleeping passengers were secure, then settled myself on the ground beneath the wagon next to an already sleeping Selas. I was tired enough to sleep through his snoring and muttering likely mean things in his sleep.
The morning was bitterly cold, far colder than yesterday was. I was unwilling to come out of my bedroll for a few long moments. What finally got me up was hearing Dera ask Selas for help getting to a bush. The old man would not be very gentle with the little girl. He wouldn't be consciously mean, I hoped, but he did not like children and they mostly did not like him either. Dera didn't have much of a choice. Not only was she simply a kind and sweet-natured child, but she now had only two grown people to care for her. It was up to me to give her the tenderness she needed. I dragged myself out from under the wagon to go assist her, much to Selas' obvious relief.
As we finished up our morning needs, I heard Selas call me. "Your corpse is awake," he yelled. I hoisted Dera up and carried her back to the wagon. He was right. The wounded young woman was awake, at least her eyes were open. I quickly brewed her up some of the swamp tea in our supplies, made with some broth for extra nourishment, and by the smell it would taste awful. I gave her careful sips, supporting her with an arm beneath her shoulders until she pulled away, halfway through the cup. She gave a couple of retches but kept it down. Her eyes closed. Our first interaction with her was over without a word from her. It could well have been that she was too tired and too pained to speak. I changed her bandage and noted some fresh blood, perhaps the jarring of the cart had reopened her wounds.
Dera covered her up snugly as it began to snow, and I piled extra blankets on both of them. It was far to early to snow, but there was no one to take my complaints. Selas rigged the tent up on top of the wagon with bowed sticks to provide shelter for the two passengers, then we were off. Tired, sore, but still walking.
The snow remained light as the hills became higher and steeper. The trees were getting thicker, but we found ourselves on a narrow track, one that had been worn smooth by many feet. The donkey was having little trouble finding its footing, but it seemed to object to the snow, snorting whenever a snowflake hit it in the eye or mouth. Selas said nothing. I could feel his grumpiness, but I could also tell he was familiar with this role - protector, soldier; and he was enjoying it in his own bitter way. For myself, I was used to the cold, and I'd never before had a fur-lined cloak to ward it off with. I was no stranger to physical work, either, but the steep hills were making my legs ache and I kept having to duck out of fear of a tree limb hitting me in the face. They never did, there was plenty of room, but I wasn't accustomed to how close and thick they were. I could count the trees near Berowalt on one hand. Most of the buildings in Berowalt had been wood, and the elders said those buildings were the reason we had so few trees now.
Dera dozed off often, which was good because rest was direly important to the healing process. Her companion woke several times, starting with fear, then looking around, catching my eyes as I walked behind the cart, and slowly relaxing back into sleep. Whatever mental powers I had acquired, I tried to use them on the young woman. I thought of soothing her and easing her pain with my strongest, most intense thoughts. I had to stop when this brought back my headache and seemed to have no effect on my patient. Apparently healing with only my mind was not one of my abilities.
I hadn't really expected it to be my gift, there had been no True Healers in the world for at least two centuries. The elders said too many people had misused the gift, and it had disappeared. Kings and lords had imprisoned True Healers for their own use; some people had held a Healer in a trance, charging outrageous amounts for treatment; and some of the Healers themselves had misused their gift, allowing people they didn't like to suffer and die, using their gift to accrue power for themselves, and in a couple of cases, using their gifts to actually hurt people or perform depraved experiments on their helpless patients. Eventually, no more True Healers were born, the old ones all died out, even those who had extended their own lives at the cost of other lives. Not that a True Healer would have been much help in the slaughter we had seen, but perhaps Dera's leg could have been saved and our young woman made more comfortable.
We passed a small, burnt out keep. There were no signs of human remains. Most had probably been dragged off by wild things, and whatever was left was covered by the snow. The keep had been surrounded by thick pikes standing in the ground, but this had been ineffective. I noticed that the strong, charred door into the keep appeared to be wholly intact. Selas brought the donkey to a halt and moved closer to investigate. He pushed on the door, it didn't budge. It hadn't even burned through, unlike the pikes. I could see huge gaps where the pikes had been burned down almost to the ground by some intense and centered flame.
"They've got a mage," he said tersely. My mouth dropped open. He glared at me. "Those holes were caused by inferno spells. They didn't even need to go in. The spell would have set the whole place afire. It would have been a simple thing to sit outside the walls and listen until the screams stopped. They probably held the main gate closed, but they didn't need to. The spell would have ended the battle in moments. Any with the sense to run out through one of these holes would have been slaughtered as soon as they cleared the wall."
"There are no mages of any real power anywhere in the Northlands. Where did they find one?" My shock was obvious. There were those who knew plain and homely spells, like my mother's spell for untangling her daughter's hair, but I'd never heard of anything like this outside of legendary tales. There was no one known who could single-handedly cause damage by magical means at this level anywhere in Dragon's Tooth, Vansheen or the Harborlands, at least until now.
"Doesn't matter, does it." His voice was sharply matter-of-fact, his face tensed and bitter.
"You've seen this before." I stared at him. He leaned back on his heels and returned my stare. He showed no discomfort at the intensity of my gaze. He didn't even blink. Frustrated, I walked past him and set my hand on the door.
The force of feeling in the door threw me back on to the ground. Images flooded through me; the army waiting in silence, the terrible cries from within the keep. People burned where they stood, only a few mercifully and immediately turned to a statue of black ash, the rest burned hideously slow. Several whole families lived here, never to be known again. I screamed without thought. When I pulled myself away from the images, I heard Dera crying. Selas leaned over and jerked me ungently to my feet.
"Didn't get any wisdom with those powers, did you," he snapped. He looked ready to spit. I stumbled over to the wagon, untying the back of the tent.
"I'm all right, Dera," I said, wiping the tears off my face. "We're safe." She tried to stop crying. Her companion, awake again, carefully reached out and pulled Dera against her. She looked to be making those comforting noises most mothers make when their children suffer, but no sound was coming from her throat. Dera's sobs subsided. I retied the tent.
Selas turned away and got the donkey moving again.
The hills grew steeper. The snow let up some. This was where the mountains, Queen Redh's Mountains, began. I could see them through the breaks in the trees. On a clear day, I could see the mountains from Judge Tally's fields in Berowalt. Up close, they were much more impressive. Beautiful, imposing, silent. They held more colors than were visible from Berowalt, where they showed only a greying purple. The snow here was already thick on th
e ground. I knew my journey was almost over - Dragon's Tooth ended at the boundary made by these mountains. The first village had to be close.
Legends told us that Queen Redh was one of Galiena's first children, those beings who walked the lands and the seas as well before the time of the humans. Redh was a mighty and terrible ruler with the power to change the shape of the very landscape she walked upon. When one of her holdings rebelled against her capricious cruelty, she had damned them to be ever separated from their brothers and any contact with the outside world. She had called up the mountains and banished all her enemies to what was now known as Dragon's Tooth, a fang-shaped peninsula barred from the mainland by mountains that in the time of Queen Redh were said to have been impassible, even by magical means. Over the countless millennia that passed between the time of Queen Redh, the eventual unknown end of her kind and the coming of the humans, the mountains had been worn away by time and nature to become what we saw now before us as we looked up. Still mostly wild, still dangerous and imposingly tall, but no longer completely impassible.
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