Sleep didn’t come easily. Images of Boulder’s body kept popping into his mind’s eye, blank eyes staring up at him. He slept in fits and starts—and then heard movement.
He froze, listening carefully. It was dark now, the dim light of the first moon only enough for him to pick out shadows. The movement wasn’t close, he realized, and he listened carefully as he tried to place it.
“Thanks, Doka,” he heard Kard say as the movement stopped, and Teer realized what he was hearing. Doka was moving through the camp in her normal quiet way, and his half-awake mind had thought she was farther away and a potential threat. If she was with Kard, she was only about fifteen feet that way.
He did, after all, know exactly where Kard was.
“You expect trouble?” Doka asked.
“Always,” Kard said. “Tonight, I figure they’ll stay quiet. Tomorrow, though…tomorrow will be trouble.”
“Halfway point,” she agreed.
Teer couldn’t see them and they were talking softly, but he could hear every word. He wasn’t sure, but he could have sworn his hearing was getting even better now that he’d realized it was sharper than he’d ever guessed.
“What do you figure?” the El-Spehari asked. “When we get going in the morning or on the road?”
“Doka figure road,” she suggested. “When just Teer. He still young, look weak.”
“Agreed.” There was a moment of silence. “I’ll warn him in the morning,” Kard said. “I’d rather bring them all in breathing, but if it’s between bringing in an extra body or letting one of these scum run…I need the kid to shoot them.”
“Will he?”
Teer shivered at the thought—and at the honest question in Doka’s voice. She really didn’t know if he could shoot a running man. To be fair, neither did Teer.
“He’s met Kova and the others,” Kard noted after a moment. “No one’s told him what happened to them, but he’s not dumb. It wasn’t just Boulder who hurt them.”
Another moment of silence as Teer’s partners considered him. Teer was pretty sure they didn’t know he was listening, and he wasn’t sure if he should let them know. For now, though, he eavesdropped.
“He’s no soldier and he’s no tracker, not yet at least,” Kard finally said. “He was watching you pretty closely. I’ll keep teaching him; he’ll make a good bounty hunter.” Kard chuckled softly. “Territories will be safer for him being out here.”
“He make something,” Doka said slowly. “You see deer?”
“Just the cuts and this stew,” the El-Spehari replied. “Why? He took it down with one shot, like he bet you he could.”
“One shot,” Doka agreed. “Through neck, severed spine. Clean kill. Same as Boulder.”
Her tone sent a chill down Teer’s spine, and he found he needed to adjust his position to remain comfortable on the bedroll. What did she mean?
“What do you mean?” Kard asked, probably unconsciously echoing his Bondservant’s thoughts.
“Teer fire two shots near Doka,” the guide noted. “Both perfect. Instant. Clean.” She paused. “He see in dark. Fast. Strong. Gentle, sensitive hands.”
The last was said in a tone that set Teer’s ears to burning again.
“You see in the dark,” Kard replied.
“So do you,” Doka said sharply. “Doka not dumb, Kard. Doka know you more than you say.”
“And I know you’re more than you say,” the El-Spehari snapped back.
“And Teer?” the guide demanded. “Doka not know what Kard is, but Teer not like Kard. Teer not Kotan, so not like Doka. What is he?”
“Merik,” Kard told her. “Beyond that, neither of us knows.” The bounty hunter sighed. “In ways I can’t tell you and for reasons I can’t tell you, Teer and I are bound together. He is my responsibility.
“He has a gift, but I don’t know its nature and neither does he. We’re working on it. We have to—he and I are stuck together.”
“Magic dead in Merik,” Doka said. “Spehari killed it.”
“The Spehari killed the Merik who had magic,” Kard agreed. “But that doesn’t mean their magic is gone. Teer has some of it. I think Boulder did too. You saw him move.”
“Doka did.” She was silent. “You know what you need do, Kard.”
“I do?”
“Tyrus.”
Teer figured that to be a name, but he had no idea who Tyrus was.
“I don’t know a—”
“Doka not dumb,” the Kotan guide interrupted Kard. “Doka and Tyrus talk afore Doka ever work for you. He thinks Doka fool, but he say Kard trustable.”
“Tyrus swore—”
“Tyrus betray no secrets,” Doka cut him off again. “All he say was you trustable. So, Doka trust.”
“Tyrus doesn’t know Merik magic,” Kard said quietly. “He only knows Kotan magic.”
“He teach Doka what little Doka knows,” she replied. “If Teer see, move—think—faster, Merik magic closer to Kotan than Spehari. Who else could you trust?”
Kard sighed.
“Tyrus might be able to teach Teer some things,” he admitted. “We’re a long way from his camps, though.”
“Head north, Kard,” Doka told him. “To edge of swamps. Doka’s people find you afore you find Tyrus.”
“Maybe,” Kard allowed. “We have other things to do first.”
“Like pay Doka?” the guide asked. “Doka ride with you to Carlon, for women’s sake, but still need payment. Doka friend, yes, but Doka not rich.”
“We made a deal and you’ve more than done your side,” Kard agreed. “Once I get paid, you’ll get paid. You have my word. Is that ‘trustable’ enough for you?”
“Always. Doka take watch now. Rest, Kard. Tomorrow bring new trouble.”
Teer lay on the ground as the overheard conversation slowed. He wasn’t really surprised that Doka had worked out that something was different about him. Unlike Kard, he’d made no real effort to conceal his abilities—he didn’t know what they were well enough to do so.
He hadn’t even realized he’d shot the deer in much the same way as he’d shot Boulder. His hunting involved making sure he was upwind of his prey and getting within a few hundred yards, close enough for a shot.
If he missed that shot, he either had to find more deer or go hungry. Missing wasn’t something he could afford, so he didn’t. He’d used the same skill to save Kard from Boulder. He hadn’t thought any of that was strange.
He was learning as he went, trying to work out how much of what he could do was his strange gift and how much was something anyone with his background could do. He’d assumed he was normal until he’d ended up in Kard’s company.
That was the future’s problem, though. For now, they expected trouble in the morning and he needed to actually sleep.
Even if memories of a dead man danced in his dreams.
20
“Well, folks, we have the same choice as yesterday,” Teer told the prisoners cheerfully. “You can play nice and get to ride on horses like people, or you can be dumb and be carried like cargo. Anyone want the cargo option?”
He glared down the line, but all seven of the bandits were looking at the ground. Doka had brought the horses over and tied them together. All that was left was getting the bounties mounted up.
Teer tensed as he approached the first of the bandits with the knife to cut their ankles free. It would have been easier to leave the prisoners tied to the horses overnight, but that was unfair to the horses and bad for them as well. The animals hadn’t done anything to deserve that.
He cut the prisoner’s ankles free and stepped back, his free hand on his quickshooter in case the bandit tried anything. This time, at least, the prisoner cooperated. The man’s face was a bruised mess, visible even on a Merik’s dark skin, from being tied down to the horse the previous day.
Doka stepped in at this point, lifting the man into the saddle with an easy strength that was belied by her size. Teer wasn’t sure how much of
the blue woman’s strength was a general Kotan thing and how much was due to the magic Doka apparently commanded.
He wasn’t going to ask, especially not in front of the prisoners. The ease with which their tiny guide moved the prisoners helped keep them in line, and Teer released the next prisoner’s ankles while Doka tied the first one into place.
Again, the man waited patiently. Even if Kard hadn’t warned Teer to expect trouble, the bandits’ quiet cooperativeness this morning would have left the young man concerned. Last time, they’d fallen into line after he’d knocked one of them down. This time, they just obeyed.
None of them looked like their wills were broken, which Teer took to mean they had a plan.
Whatever the plan was, though, it didn’t involve causing trouble early on. Teer and Doka managed to get all seven prisoners mounted up and tied onto the horses in a quarter-candlemark or so, and then the entire cavalcade set off again.
If they hadn’t been leading a line of tied horses, the coach might have slowed them down. As it was, the stagecoach was capable of going faster than the prisoners could safely manage. They were still clearing thirty-plus miles a day, which meant they’d make it to Carlon in the three days Kard had predicted.
Teer rode beside the coach, keeping a careful eye on the train behind them as he checked in with Doka.
“They behaved yesterday?” he asked.
“They scared of Doka and Kard,” Doka said cheerfully. “You too, but…”
“Not as much, ’cause I look young,” Teer guessed. “We’ll deal.”
“We will,” she confirmed. Her thunderbuss and bow were sitting on the seat next to her, and she was wearing the combined quiver and bandolier that held her ammunition for both. She nodded back toward the coach. “The ladies doing better. Safety best cure.”
Teer’s gaze back at their prisoners turned into a baleful glare again.
“It was as bad as I think, wasn’t it?” he asked Doka quietly, hoping that Rala and the older women couldn’t hear him.
“Worse,” Doka said flatly. “Men don’t get how bad.”
Teer ground his teeth and let his hand fall to his gun. He needed to know that. He needed to know what these men had done, because if they ran far enough and fast enough, he was going to have to shoot them.
It wasn’t his first choice—he’d been a ranch hand, which meant he had other options for stopping them—but he needed to be okay with it. Knowing just how awful their prisoners were helped with that.
“A stone and a half for bringing them all in alive,” he estimated aloud. “Didn’t say they had to be intact.”
“You not them,” Doka told him sharply. “Don’t let anger make you them. Do what needs, no more.”
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, nodded.
“What needs,” he repeated. “No more. That sounds practiced, Doka.”
“Shaman’s creed,” she said. “Doka shitty shaman, gave up. But start.”
Teer chuckled softly.
“Not a bad creed,” he murmured. “I might need to remember that one.”
“Doka does for reasons,” she told him. “Is good creed.”
The trouble came almost exactly when Teer expected it to. Doka had taken the coach and the women off ahead to eat a quick lunch separate from the prisoners. Kard had walked a short line of three of the bandits into the trees to deal with nature.
The problem with expecting trouble at the most vulnerable moment was that it was still the most vulnerable moment. Teer was watching four prisoners, all still mounted up, and missed that one of them had cut his bindings until it was too late.
He wasn’t even distracted. He saw the prisoner toss the knife to one of the others and leap from his horse. If the horses hadn’t been tied together, the man probably would have tried to run for it on the horse.
As it was, he was running for the currently unoccupied lead horse of the line, likely hoping to cut it free and take off before Teer could get onto Star and catch up.
Unfortunately for him, Teer had been watching for just this. He was moving toward the prisoner even as the bandit hit the ground. They collided about three horses forward along the line, Teer hitting the prisoner with his shoulder and knocking the man into one of the horses.
The line of horses was staked down at the front and back, but that didn’t keep them from spooking at that. The ropes had enough slack that the entire line of horses bulged away, the sudden movement shaking loose the second prisoner trying to cut himself free.
The first man was still on his feet and took a wild swing at Teer. The young Merik had half a head on the escaped prisoner and turned to catch the fist on his shoulder before taking a swing of his own.
He took several solid hits from the prisoner before he landed a solid blow to the side of the other man’s head, sending the bandit reeling to the ground. It was clear to Teer that neither of them was trained in unarmed combat, but the other man was down.
Then fire burned across his back as the second prisoner stabbed him with the knife. He turned with the blow, leading to the knife scoring across his entire back.
His gun was in his hand and he almost unconsciously rammed it into the bottom of the bandit’s chin. The man’s eyes widened in sudden terror and Teer snarled at him.
“Drop the fucking knife.”
They were frozen for several eternal-feeling moments—and then the knife fell to the ground with a soft thud. Teer stepped backward, the gun still trained on the prisoner. He detached Kard’s spare set of manacles from his belt and held them out to the man.
“Lock yourself in,” he ordered. “Do it!”
The bandit obeyed, the locks on the manacles clicking into place as terror gave way to resignation—and then a spark of anger.
"Behind you!" he snapped as Teer linked the manacles to the horse line.
Teer half-turned, keeping the gun on the manacled prisoner, to see that a third prisoner had either had the knife in between these two or had found a different way to escape their bonds. They weren’t bothering with the horses and had taken off into the trees.
That could be enough. Teer knew as well as anyone that a man could outlast a horse over a long distance—and outmaneuver one in rough terrain where the horse couldn’t get up to speed. Rough terrain like the forested hills the prisoner was running into.
“Kard!” he bellowed. “Runner!”
He was moving as he shouted. The first bandit would probably be unconscious for a while and the second was manacled and tied to the horse line. While he might be able to get free of that if left for long enough, he wasn’t going to get that long.
Teer hadn’t had time to try and train Star to come when called, so he lost critical seconds getting onto the horse. He needed her to catch the running man—and he needed the loop of rope tied to her saddle. Habit meant he kept the lasso ready to go, even if he wasn’t chasing calves and steers anymore.
Today, that lasso was going to save a man’s life, and he grimly touched his heels to Star’s flanks. She took off eagerly, picking up his anger and determination like the clever beast she was as he rode her into the woods.
He could still see the runner. The best answer was to shoot the man, but Teer didn’t want to try that first. He pushed Star forward, trusting the horse’s own wits to dodge around the trees as best she could.
The runner had a very good idea of what a horse could and couldn’t do, Teer realized. He was intentionally picking a path that Star was going to have trouble with—and headed toward steeper slopes and denser woods.
If Star didn’t get close enough, the man was going to get away—and Teer was not letting that happen.
“Go, girl,” he urged the horse, driving his heels in again to urge her to greater speed. He couldn’t ask this of her for long, not in the middle of the woods. He pulled slightly on the reins, dodging a patch of ground that looked too soft.
The distance was evaporating, but Teer was running out of time. He released the reins and pulled the l
asso from the saddle. He had to trust Star…and he had to trust that he was everything Kard and Doka kept telling him he was.
The man was maybe inside the length of the rope. Maybe. Teer would never have tried this on the farm, but it was this or kill him.
He threw the lasso. It shouldn’t have been possible. No one could land a lasso at over forty feet—but he knew, in the moment he let go, that he had the man. The rope loop dropped around the bandit’s shoulder and Teer yanked. The loop snapped tight and the man’s feet kept going forward as his torso stopped.
Teer caught up with him a few moments later, bringing Star to a halt as he looked down at the prisoner.
“Going somewhere, my friend?” he asked. “Because it looks to me like you’re spending the rest of the day as cargo.”
The bandit was struggling back to his feet, but he couldn’t reach the lasso loop to undo it. Teer dismounted and caught a futile attempt to strike him in his hand.
“You were likely right to figure I’m easier to escape than the other two,” he told the man as he used the rope from the lasso to bind the bandit’s wrists together. “Easier, though, didn’t mean you were going to make it.
“Unity might let you live, but if you run again, I will shoot you,” he concluded as he tossed the now-trussed man onto Star’s back. “My mercy has practical limits.”
Teer rode back up to the horse line to find Kard waiting for him, busily tying the unconscious bandit back onto his horse.
“He’s been out a while,” the El-Spehari noted. “Might pay for that later, but you did good.”
Teer nodded silently, feeling weaker than he wanted to admit. He rode Star up next to Kard and slowly started to dismount. He made it most of the way to the ground before his legs collapsed underneath him and he fell on his face.
“Shit,” he heard Kard curse. “You should have said you were injured. Doka!”
Teer managed to lift his face off the ground to breathe clearly, but he couldn’t seem to find the strength to do more. He felt hands lifting his shirt away from the cut.
“He losing blood fast,” Doka said behind him. “Take, apply to cut.”
Wardtown (Teer & Kard Book 1) Page 11
