Memory Hunted

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Memory Hunted Page 7

by Christopher Kincaid


  Kit crossed her arms and frowned. Finally her arms dropped, and she sighed. "You are right. Yuzu—" Kit leapt forward and threw Timothy aside. He stumbled into a wide oak tree and twisted around.

  A shape appeared from the trees.

  Tell raised his palms. His eyebrows disappeared underneath his bandana. "W….wait…"

  Yuzu peaked around him. "Don’t, Sis. He came to help."

  Kit held her knife in her fist. Tell’s wide eyes latched onto it.

  Her ears! Timothy tackled her.

  "Get off. What are you—"

  He tugged her hood over her ears.

  Kit smashed her forehead into his nose. "Are you an idiot? What if I’d stabbed you?" She sheathed the knife. "Do you want me that badly?"

  Yuzu sighed and looked down on them with her hands on her hips. "They are like this all the time."

  Tell fidgeted. "D-Daeric has your trail. We should—"

  "Why should we trust you?" Kit pushed Timothy aside and scrambled to her feet.

  Timothy let out a breath. It looks like Tell didn’t notice Kit’s ears. Maybe Yuzu has him too flustered.

  Yuzu grabbed Tell’s arm. "He came to help me. Right?" The boy blushed. She smiled up at him.

  Timothy rolled his eyes. Poor guy is going to have to learn how to handle women better.

  Tell bobbed his head. "I—I don’t want anything to happen to you, Yuzy."

  Kit pursed her lips and curled her nose. She shook her head and glanced away.

  "They are my family, but—but they are wrong. You didn’t do anything so I—I decided to help you get away. I—"

  "Do you know where to go?" Yuzu asked. "You are right, Sis. Men do like to talk."

  Tell nodded. "Belafonte is—is—"

  "I won’t make the same mistake again. I am done with this." Kit’s voice grew louder.

  "Kit. Don’t." Timothy rubbed his forehead.

  Tell paled. "I hear them. I don’t understand how—" Worry edged his whisper.

  Timothy swallowed. "Do you hear anything, Kit?"

  Her hood rustled. "No, and I would if they were there. He will lead us into a trap." She reached for her knife.

  "Perhaps you should listen more closely."

  Timothy whirled. Daeric stepped into the falling snow. He held his stoat boar spear.

  "I—I didn’t bring him, Yuzu. I wouldn’t do that to you," Tell said.

  Timothy tensed.

  Daeric’s hands tightened on his spear. "I tried to be nice. I gave you a choice." He shook his head and walked toward them. "I am not that type of man. But you refuse to see reason."

  "You’re right." Kit bared her fangs. "I should have killed you back at that inn."

  Timothy fumbled for his belt knife. Must it always come down to fighting? I can’t fight.

  Suddenly, Daeric twirled his spear in a arc. The iron point whistled, and the flat side smashed into the side of Timothy’s head. His knife flew from his hand and disappeared into the snow. Black pain engulfed his senses, and he collapsed onto the snow. .His ears buzzed from the hit. Slowly, the buzzing became the sound of curses and yelling. He flipped onto his back and tested his jaw.

  A few feet away, Daeric advanced on Kit. His twirling spear forced Kit backward one step at a time toward until her back was pinned against a tree. She deflected his thrusts with her belt knife.

  "Stop this, Daeric," Tell shouted and waved his long hunting knife. "You don’t have to do this."

  Daeric’s spear stopped with its butt end angled at Tell. "Jan won’t be happy to hear you helped them escape. I was going to recommend you be Accepted, but I can’t trust you enough now."

  "What you are doing is wrong," Tell said.

  Daeric shrugged. "From where I stand, you are wrong." He shook his head. "I just don’t see how you could betray your own blood, Tell. I am disappointed in you."

  Tell wilted under Daeric’s words. "But it’s not right. Kit doesn’t want to be with you, and those soldiers didn’t do anything."

  "You will understand when you are older. Last warning. Stand aside."

  Yuzu walked up beside Tell, holding a thick branch in both hands. "I won’t let you talk to him that way. Tell is right."

  Timothy grabbed a nearby bough and stood.

  Daeric sighed theatrically. "I tried to reason. Now I have to play the stern uncle."

  He whirled the spear against his side to brace it and twisted, driving the butt in an arc toward Tell. Tell ducked under it at the last moment, and the spear slammed into Yuzu’s makeshift club with a resounding crack. The force of the impact shattered the thick branch and sent Yuzu crashing to the ground.

  Daeric planted his heel and allowed the momentum of the swing to turn his body. Kit lunged at him just as he finished his pivot. The sharp steel spearhead aimed straight at her.

  Timothy took a wobbly step toward Kit.

  Tell appeared and deflected the thrust downward with his knife. Kit slipped around him and sliced the air with her knife, forcing Daeric back a step.

  Daeric flipped the spear upward, catching Tell in the chin. Tell’s head jerked backward and he toppled to the ground.

  Timothy took a another wobbly step toward Kit and raised his stick. Daeric regarded him with slanted eyes. He shifted his hands on the spear shaft. Blackness edged Timothy’s vision, and his ears rang. But he kept moving toward. His hands sweated against the rough bark of his weapon. I have to help. I have—

  Daeric’s spear thrust forward, and Timothy’s vision burst into multicolored darkness.

  Chapter 4

  "Three men are dead because of that man." Balwar brushed a low-hanging limb out of his way. Rage seethed in his chest. That morning, they had come across the remains of the patrol Tredere sent against Balwar’s suggestion.

  "You need to take control of the camp." Dalton marched with his halberd on his shoulder. About thirty soldiers fanned into the forest around them. Balwar refused to be surprised.

  "Would his soldiers listen to me?"

  Dalton shrugged. "They will come around. You have the authority. Besides, the boys are afraid of you, Inquisitor." Some of the men nearby chuckled.

  Dalton certainly isn’t helping my mystique. But it is nice to be treated as a man instead of an Inquisitor. "I am not much of a leader."

  "And what are we doing out here? Tredere looked like he was going to bust you when we marched out with almost all the men." Dalton laughed.

  "I—"

  "What do you think, Andrew?" Dalton asked the man marching in front.

  "Tredere is a puffed-up coward. Don’t see him marching out here."

  "Mark?" Dalton asked.

  "He just sits like he’s at home. The sooner we get done, the better."

  Balwar fingered his crucifix. "And if men die on my order?"

  Dalton shrugged. "It’s in God’s hands, right?"

  "Sir, the scout," Mark said.

  A uniformed man rushed forward. Andrew and Mark stepped aside. The scout saluted. "There is a building ahead. There doesn’t appear to be anyone near."

  Dalton slapped Balwar’s back. "Not bad for a guess. What’s the order?"

  Balwar staggered. How did he ever make lieutenant? He hesitated.

  "I hear a ‘You have your orders, Lieutenant.’" Dalton smiled.

  "You have your orders, Lieutenant."

  Dalton turned and barked orders, calling each man by name. Being an Inquisitor is different from being a soldier, Balwar thought. Men bustled around him. I’d rather be chasing a witch than commanding men. After he and Guillermo had brought Tahd Valador to the Vatican, the Holy See had given them only a day to rest. Guillermo, at least, was heading home. Not even Spain was free from the Protestants. It would be better than out in the end of nowhere. But the fact the Holy See sent me out here shows how deeply the Pope is concerned about Luther—if they are even involved with what is going on out here.

  Moments later the scout returned again. "The building is surrounded."

  Dalton loo
ked at Balwar.

  Balwar gestured. "Let’s see our heretics."

  They followed the scout. What I wouldn’t give to be in a city again. Buildings are predictable. This is not. A strange building appeared from the forest. Snow and remnants of plants pushed the flat roof. Ivy knotted the stone and log walls. Rough glass—the type common to slums in Rome—emitted yellow light. A stable stood to one side. The stable and lodge looked more like hills than buildings.

  Dalton stroked his graying chin. "Boys will get hurt and maybe die in the next few minutes." He looked at Balwar.

  Balwar stiffened his shoulders. "Send them in." The last three words hung in the air. Charging into a building or taking down a heretic didn’t give Balwar pause. But ordering other men into danger is something else entirely.

  Dalton frowned. "I’ve always wanted to be a hero. Might as well give it another try." He shifted his halberd and raised his voice. "Let’s do this, boys." He marched forward.

  The men descended on the building. They smashed windows and scrambled inside. Dalton and five men attacked the door. Shouts and crashes split the forest’s silence. Balwar crossed his arms in his sleeves, his hidden pistols ready. He frowned at how the men rushed into the building. That’s a good way to catch a knife in the chest.

  Suddenly, screams and the clash of metal erupted from somewhere inside the building. Balwar waved down the men by the stables and crossed into the ruined entrance. Tables and chairs scattered across a space that looked like some of the cozy inns Balwar had visited. Stuffed heads of animals lined the walls and gazed out from above a large hearth. Several soldiers scanned the room and watched the shattered windows.

  Dalton’s voice came from the hall. "Don’t chase them. Once they get into the woods you won’t find them. This is their land, and they know it better than you do."

  Balwar entered the hall. Several men tended to the wounded. Sounds of objects being smashed in the adjoining rooms mingled with groans.

  "Bring me anything that gives us a clue what they want." Dalton leaned against a wall. Snow fluttered through a broken door. "Or anything that would pay off the money you boys owe me." Men laughed.

  Dalton looked at Balwar as he approached. "Two escaped. The boys got one of them." He gestured to a room with a copper tub. A bloodied man wearing a bandana lay slumped against the tub. "Andrew and a few others will have war wounds to show off to their ladies."

  "Just three?" Balwar asked. The building would turn a good profit in a city with all its rooms. It had looked far smaller from the outside.

  Dalton nodded. "By the looks of it, unless one of the boys finds someone hiding, not many lived here."

  Balwar frowned. "So few to cause so much trouble."

  "Wouldn’t take many men to ambush a few scouts or patrols." Dalton stroked his beard. "Feels shady to me. For the Vatican to send us here quite a few had to die."

  "They didn’t tell me."

  "And Tredere’s boys tell me he would send them out alone on patrols." Dalton shook his head. "Even in the militia we never did that to a man, even just down the street. After seeing this, I think we have a rat."

  Mark approached and saluted. "We found this." He handed Dalton a square piece of animal hide.

  "Any valuables found?" Balwar asked.

  Mark nodded.

  "Split them among the soldiers. They deserve it," Balwar said.

  Mark grinned and saluted. The men nearby also smiled and moved off.

  Balwar joined Dalton. "What does it say?"

  "For not being much of a leader, you know how to be good to the boys." Dalton glanced at Balwar. "Careful. They might forget you are an Inquisitor."

  "What does it say?"

  "We have a snake in the grass." He handed Balwar the strip of hide.

  Balwar blinked. Odd saying. He took the hide and read the ink scrawled across it. The note outlined where the patrols were being sent with single words attack or avoid scrawled beside the locations. A small map pointed out patrol routes.

  "Who knows the patrol routes?" Balwar asked.

  Dalton shrugged. "The captain and the patrols. He doesn’t seem to tell anyone until they are sent out."

  Balwar frowned. "We need to see if these patrols were attacked and who survived."

  "I will look into it." Dalton waved a hand in the air. "After this, our heretics will be out for revenge. I have an idea that could let us all go home sooner rather than later, if you are interested."

  "Tell me while we march. I want a detachment to stay here in case someone returns. We need to get back to camp before our…snake slips away."

  Kit leaned against an oak. She was careful to avoid that sumac plant growing up the other side. Timothy rested his head on her lap, his legs and wrists bound. Kit’s feet were free, but her hands were tied in front of her. She ran her hand through his hair. She could feel a knot rising on his skull. She hoped he would wake soon. She worried those hazel eyes would not open. Daeric had hit him hard. At least the bleeding had stopped. Numbness crept up her aching legs. Timothy would have bruises after being dragged along the ground.

  Daeric knew too well that she would not leave her shepherd. The memory of Daeric standing over Timothy with the point of his spear held just above Timothy’s throat stoked her rage. She embraced it, warming herself with it.

  I will kill that man.

  Daeric sat by the fire, his spear in easy reach. "I hadn’t wanted to come to this. I did give you time. But you are more precious than you know."

  "When you sleep, you will die."

  Daeric laughed. "Jan was right. I am a fool to try to get you to fall for me."

  "You are a fool." Jan emerged from the darkness. Behind him a pipe ember illuminated Gert’s face.

  Daeric opened his mouth, but Jan cut him off. "Somehow the soldiers found us while you were mucking about here. Gert and me barely got out. Krill didn’t. You’ve played too many games. We need to focus on our revenge. Not this." Jan jabbed his spear at Kit. "Krill is dead. There are few of us left. Father will not be happy when he hears of this. "

  Daeric stood. His face remained calm. He ignored the spear and approached Kit. She snarled at him. If he touches Timothy…she thought. He grabbed her ear and tugged. Pain made her eyes water. "I haven’t been mucking about or playing games. I found our Eve, Jan. Eve."

  Eve?

  Jan’s eyes widened, and Gert whistled.

  Kit gritted her teeth and forced herself not to hit the man. Not yet. Daeric’s mask of civility had disappeared. He would only take it out on Timothy.

  "I had hoped to have her willingly join us. To become our wife and mother." Daeric’s fingers tightened on her ears. "But in that I was a fool."

  It is always the same. I am not a breeding cow.

  Jan stared. The tip of his spear dipped. "She has one doesn’t she? A tail. Koto was…"

  Daeric bent and grabbed Timothy’s coat. Kit snatched Daeric’s wrist with her bound hands. "Wait! If you want to see my tail, I will show you."

  Daeric released Timothy and straightened. Kit eased Timothy to the ground. He groaned. She patted him and stood. She lifted her hands. "It would be easier if my hands were free."

  "There are three of us and one of her," Jan said. "She’s just a woman, even if she is a fox."

  Kit held her hands up. Daeric yanked his knife and cut the ropes. He stepped back and sheathed the knife, but he looked wary. You’d better be, Kit thought as she worked at her skirt’s latches. She tugged the fabric off and spread it over Timothy. Her leggings offered little warmth against the cold air, but Timothy needed the warmth more. She lifted her cloak and stretched her tail.

  Jan whistled a lewd tone. His gaze ran the length of her, from white tuft to ears. Kit let her cloak fall and crossed her arms. "Satisfied?"

  "Koto." Wonder filled the Jan’s voice.

  "That is all well and good," Gert tapped his pipe and sat next to the fire, "but what are we going to do about the lodge? We circled back, and they left too many men f
or us to force our way back in. I’d like my books back."

  Timothy muttered something. Kit glared at Daeric before returning to Timothy. She sat and resettled Timothy on her thighs. Jan continued to stare at her, and Daeric joined Gert at the fire. He cut a chunk from the rabbit Daeric was roasting. Kit’s stomach growled.

  "Eve is only part of our mission, remember?" Daeric gestured with the meat.

  "Your mission," Jan said. "Father didn’t want us to waste any more time on it, but seeing her makes me change my mind."

  "Sit down, Jan," Daeric said. "We still need to make sure the Church never comes here again."

  Jan tore his gaze away and joined the men. He will be first, Kit thought. Daeric will be last.

  "Sorry. S-sorry, Kit," Timothy muttered. Kit stroked his hair. He bounces from being a puppy when I want a wolf and a wolf when I want a puppy. Each time he ends up hurt. She needed to straighten that out of him. She wrapped her exposed tail around him. Daeric and Jan watched the movement from where they sat. Their eyes made her feel naked. She was tired of men always after her. She was tired of being captured. How many times had it been? Ridiculous is a good number.

  Daeric chewed. "Once we kill the Inquisitor—"

  "They will send more," Gert said.

  Daeric frowned.

  "It’s time I said it." Gert gestured with his pipe. "They won’t stop coming, no matter how many we kill."

  "It doesn’t matter." Daeric sliced off another chunk. "We can’t let them have their way."

  "Why didn’t I see it before? Her hair is the same color," Jan muttered.

  "They have already." Gert used a thumb to stuff his pipe. "There are only three of us left. What happened to Tell?"

  "Even you, Gert? I thought you understood what we were trying to do."

  Timothy’s eyelids fluttered. Kit stroked his forehead.

  Gert relit his pipe with a stick from the fire. "Revenge can fill a man."

  "But we found her! After we make the Church fear—"

  "I’ve got some age on both of you. So does the first commander, but he won’t listen to me anymore. I remember. The Church won’t stop until those like us are no longer threats." Gert puffed his pipe. "Better we stop being threats."

 

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