The healer’s mood was always melancholy when he returned from seeing the woman that would be forever out of his reach. K’xarr decided to change the subject. “Well, it seems Cromwell has taken a liking to your sisters.”
“I don’t know if that is good or bad,” Rhys said, looking back over his shoulder to where his sisters stood in the meadow.
“Why in the hell did you bring those two girls out here with this band of killers? I’m sure the queen would have put them up nice and proper for you.”
Rhys nodded. “She offered but Morgana and Rachael would have none of it. They had been waiting for me in Turill for months already, and had insisted on coming with me when I left. What was I to say, no?”
“Yes, you should have. I would have sent them right back to Tara,” K’xarr said sternly.
“I told you I plan to. As soon as we get to Gallio, I am going to put them on a ship for home.”
K’xarr rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. “Good man, we already have the accursed wagon slowing us down. If you wish, they can travel with Endra and the brood till we ship them out, if they can brave those little demons.”
“How is our little army anyway?” Rhys asked.
“The same, nothing but trouble.”
Both men grinned. “I think I will go say hello,” Rhys said.
K’xarr didn’t want to bring up Raygan again, but he was curious about the state of affairs in Bandara. “Wait, Rhys. Tell me how the little queen is doing.”
The healer’s grin slid from his face and he cleared his throat as if he were choking on the words. “She is trying to keeping the kingdom afloat while Talorn builds her an army. She spends any spare time she has with Corwin and Ian. The two princes keep her quite busy. All in all, Bandara seems to be faring well, even without the Church’s support. Abberdon has offered no threat as of yet, but she is convinced that one day they will.”
“Let us hope Talorn has her army at the ready when they do. I would hate to see Bandara fall to those arrogant horse buggers.”
The healer's shoulders slumped and he looked away. “I told her this was going to be the last time I would visit, K’xarr. It’s getting too dangerous, the Church’s agents seem to be on every street corner in Turill, waiting on us to return. Besides all the intrigue, it’s just getting too hard to say goodbye to her.”
K’xarr shook his head. “You said the same thing when you returned from your last visit and the one before that.”
Rhys looked the mercenary commander in the eye. “I know I did. I want to stay away, but it’s hard. I love her, K’xarr.”
“I don’t want to hear that shit. We have this same talk every time you return. If we pass this way again, you will want to go see her and I will give you the time. Now stop with the heartsick whining.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Rhys said, his smile returning at the thought. “You know she is still unhappy with you about not coming to see her.”
“She knows I can’t risk that. Like you said, there are too many Church men in Turill now. It would be another bloody fight in her precious city and she would throw one of her tantrums and curse me for coming. It's better we stay out in the wild. It’s easier to keep the Hands at bay out here and I don’t have to listen to any of the Phoenix Queen’s aggravating lectures.”
Rhys nodded. “She can be stubborn at times, but she thinks a great deal of you, K’xarr, even though your relationship is…strenuous. She sent the same offer back with me as she always does. You have a commission in the Bandaran army if you ever want it.”
K’xarr looked back at the meadow where his men were beginning to breaking camp. “She knows my answer. My head would be in a noose before a month passed if I took her offer, and I will never serve under Talorn Blackthorn, she knows that. I will make my own way in this world, but I thank her for the thought. Now go see Endra and the devils, they will be glad to see you have returned.”
“Is he in camp?”
K’xarr knew Rhys was asking about Kian. “I don’t know. You will have to ask Endra. I haven’t talked to him in two weeks.”
Rhys nodded and headed to the far side of the clearing where a canvas-covered wagon sat.
K’xarr started back toward the men, shouting, “Ivan, Rufio, start making ready to leave.”
***
The large wagon could be called shabby at best; its wooden planks were weather-beaten and worn, the driver's seat had begun to warp from years of exposure to rain and the weight of all those who had driven it, and the once white canvas cover was grey and water-stained.
Rhys remembered when Kian had bought it from a farmer in Bandara nearly two years ago. The wagon had been in bad shape then, but the swordsman had wanted Endra and the children to have a place that would offer the unusual family a sense of unity and a semblance of privacy. Everyone in the company had come to view the dilapidated farm-cart as Kian and Endra’s home.
As Rhys approached, he saw several of the children standing around the wagon looking out into the thin woods that surrounded the clearing as if they were searching for something.
Payton and Vinsant both looked like they had grown an inch since he had been gone and Tressa was becoming more beautiful with each passing day. The triplets had endured their hard life with few complaints. Though they were still young, the trio had become very helpful to their mother and the company’s warriors, K’xarr often had them perform small jobs around camp. As a reward, the mercenary captain had given them each their own horse and thanks to Rufio’s patience, all three had become excellent riders.
Endra’s adopted daughter Sabra sat on the driver’s seat. The little girl’s looks were striking with her raven black hair and dark eyes. Rhys had never known a child whose nature was as sober as Sabra's. Smiles came to her face as rarely as rain came to the Weeping Lands. When she did smile, it was a grand event, and her beauty increased tenfold when she was happy. Even some of K’xarr’s cutthroats remarked on what she would look like when she was older, causing Cromwell and Kian to threaten them if they didn’t watch what they said.
They had discovered the child possessed the same blood as the rest of the children not long after they left Bandara. She had scraped her knee on an old nail protruding from the wagon's bed. Black blood dripped down her shin to the surprise of all who saw the incident. Endra said the queen had never told her where the child came from, only that she had been a prisoner in the tower.
Rhys no longer believed it had been a coincidence that Sabra had fallen into Endra’s hands. He had once asked Raygan about Sabra and got the same vague story she had told Endra. He could tell that the queen was holding something back, but had pressed her no further. The girl’s origins didn’t manner now, Sabra was part of the family as was the new addition.
Tressa held the new baby in a basket hanging from her arm. Little Vadin had been born right before Rhys had left for Bandara. Kian’s new son had inherited none of his father’s traits, elven or otherwise. The boy had been completely human in appearance. Only his blood had been abnormal. It was black as night, just like the rest of his siblings.
Kian had been more pleased than Rhys had ever seen him when he found out the child had not been saddled with any of the magical imperfections that he and his daughter Brigitte had been cursed with.
The baby had been born well-built and healthy, but that hadn’t surprised the healer. They were all hardy children and had never been sick since the healer had known them. Not even so much as a runny nose. The children were strong, smart, and exhibited a potent constitution. Rhys believed it was the black blood that gave them their uncanny fortitude. He had been studying the phenomena, but as of yet had no explanation for it.
Rhys realized he didn’t see Brigitte among her brothers and sisters, although it was not unusual for her to be apart from the others. The two-year-old sometimes stole away to be alone. Aside from her fangs and golden eyes, Brigitte looked as normal as the others. She was bewitching to look at, but her mother had had a terrible ti
me adjusting to Brigitte’s inhuman traits. Endra had finally come to accept that her little girl was not a human two-year-old. After that, things had been much better between the two.
The healer wondered if Brigitte was still talking. The girl had just found her voice before he left, at least according to Kian. He was the only one she had spoken to and then the swordsman said it was always very softly, as if she wanted no one else to hear her.
Brigitte was not yet three, but the girl was capable and independent. Much to her mother’s dismay, she often ventured off alone when the band camped near a forest. Payton had once remarked that Brigitte was more like having a pet cat than a sister; the boy had received the back of his mother’s hand for the comment. It was an insensitive thing to say, but Rhys understood why the boy felt that way.
Tressa noticed his presents first. She sat Vadin’s basket down in the grass and ran to the healer. She threw her arms around his waist and squeezed. “Welcome home, Rhys. We have missed you so much.” Rhys hugged her back as the other children came over to greet him. He had grown attached to the “little band of devils,” as K’xarr called them. He thought of them as part of his own family now.
“Where are your mother and Kian?”
“I don’t know where Kian is, but mother and Nick Nock are chasing Brigitte. Mother tried to bathe her; Brigitte got away and ran off into the trees,” Payton offered.
Rhys snorted; Brigitte escaping a bath was not an uncommon occurrence. “Well, let’s go sit down on the wagon and wait till they return. We can catch up on things and when they get back, I will give you the gifts the queen sent back with me this time.”
Excitement spread across all their faces. They knew Raygan always sent gifts back for them when Rhys visited her, mostly clothing, boots, and shoes. However, there was always a large bag of candy involved as well.
Tressa began to bounce up and down on her toes. “I hope they hurry and catch her.”
***
The little girl sprinted ahead of her pursuers, only stopping long enough to giggle and let them catch up. “Brigitte, you come back here this instant,” she heard her mother yell. She cocked her head to listen to their conversation. “Can you see her, Nick?” she heard her mother say.
She watched as the thick-bodied cook stopped and looked around. “She’s up ahead there by the large tree. See her, right there?” She saw Nick point directly at her. Her mother peered into the forest; Brigitte peeked from behind the huge oak tree she chosen to hide behind and gave her mother a big smile. As Endra moved towards her, Brigitte scampered up the oak with no more effort than a squirrel. “She went up the tree, Nick, come on.”
Brigitte could tell the red-faced cook was out of breath and ready to stop chasing her. They never caught her when she played this game unless she wanted them to.
Brigitte knew her mother wouldn’t stop the fruitless chase, no matter what. Her belly shook with laughter as Endra slipped and slid into the shallow stream, and she cackled again when Nick cursed the branches that kept slapping him in the face.
The little girl loved nothing more than being chased. She would wait up here in the tree till they got close then she would jump down and the chase could begin again.
Just as she readied herself to leap from the tree, she felt a strong hand grab her by the back of the neck. She hissed and tried to escape, but Brigitte could not break loose from the strong hand that held her. She felt herself lifted into the air. Her small body was spun around to look directly into the face of the dark-cloaked figure that had caught her. The eyes that peered at her from inside the hood were deep and golden, the same as her own. She smiled and clasped her small arms around her captor’s neck. “Papa,” she whispered.
Kian jumped down to the ground with his daughter hanging from his neck. “Did you lose something?” he asked.
Endra leaned against a tree, breathing hard. “Thank the gods. That could have gone on all day.”
Nick Nock came walking up, nearly panting. “Found someone you couldn’t outrun, didn’t you, little alley cat?”
Kian pulled his hood back, smiling thinly at Endra and handing the child to her mother.
Brigitte immediately started kissing Endra’s cheeks. “No, you don’t, young lady; your kisses won’t keep you from taking a bath.”
The girl put her lip out and began to pout. “Are you coming back with us, Kian?” Endra asked, ignoring her daughter’s feigned despair.
“Yes, I need to speak with K’xarr.”
“Good, he will be glad to see you.”
Kian looked at her without expression. “I don’t think so.”
***
“You know we have to leave for Masaria. There will be no contracts left if we delay. King Malric is said to be hiring mercenaries because he is at odds with the Church.
“We spend all our time fighting the bastards, we might as well make some coin at it, and we would be in a kingdom where we might be able to go a few weeks without being ambushed by the Hand. You said yourself you would like to find a safe place for the children. Masaria may offer you just that. The city of Gallio is said to have all manner of people living in it, so you would be just another face in the crowd there.” K’xarr’s head ached; he was wasting his breath trying to talk Kian into going to Masaria.
He had seen that look of determination on the stubborn bastard’s face many times before. Once the swordsman had made his mind up, there was little chance of changing it. Arguing with Kian was exhausting and most often futile.
Kian stood before him, fists clenched and jaw set. “The boy came to me for help. I will not fail to answer the call of his village. He said the hamlet lies in northeastern Quintar, near the mountains. It is not far and the bandits should be easily defeated. Caleb said they number less than twenty men.”
“Where is this Caleb?” K’xarr asked sharply.
“I told him to wait for me at the crossroads to the south.”
“You ran across a boy seeking help for some tiny village in Quintar and you’re just going to go?”
Kian looked thoughtfully at the mercenary captain. “Yes, his village is defenseless. You know I can’t ignore the boy’s plea for help.”
“What did he offer as payment for our aid?” K’xarr asked, already knowing the answer.
“His thanks,” Kian said, looking away.
K’xarr mouth twisted into an ugly sneer. “You want us to take another job where we get paid in chickens and goats? No, Kian, not this time. We have done enough work for free. The men are growing restless. They want gold and I mean to get it for them. We are not going with you this time.”
Kian looked at his friend with a practiced calm. “I will go alone then and meet you in Masaria later.”
K’xarr’s voice rose and his face reddened. He was tired of the half-breed and his lofty ideas of justice. “I have to move quickly. If you go, you must take Endra and children with you. I won’t have time to watch out for them and that damn wagon does nothing but slow us down anyway.”
“I will take them,” Kian said without hesitation.
He pointed his finger in the swordsman’s face. “Damn you, Kian, someday you will understand that these people you help don’t care about you. Once you aid them, you're just another half-breed killer. You’re never going to be a hero to them or anyone else. You will always be the Slayer. The people of the world will never accept you. To them, you will always be a monster.”
Kian’s chin dropped. He had hurt him. The swordsman hated what he had been turned into and he despised the name the people of Bandara had bestowed on him after the battle at Braxton Bluff. The name Slayer seemed to cut the half-breed as deeply as any knife ever could.
He looked up at K’xarr with vacant eyes. “It doesn’t manner if they care about me. I told you, I’m not a mercenary or a soldier. I fight for what I believe in and those I care about. It is who I am.” Kian turned and slowly walked away.
K’xarr slammed his fist into his thigh and stormed off in the other
direction.
***
His big bay was well-rested, with its saddle tightened and ready to go. K’xarr could not help but glance back at the wagon as he stroked the neck of his horse. The old cart bounced back and forth as it slowly rolled out of the meadow. Kian and Endra rode alongside it like two grim guardians. Nick Nock was in the driver’s seat with the three small children inside while the older ones rode their small horses to the rear. He hated Kian leaving. The man’s extraordinary skill with a sword and the fear he inspired was useful, and the half-breed was a good friend.
His head still pounded and his arms felt heavy. He should be pleased that he was rid of the burden the man brought along with him.
With the swordsman and his family gone, there would be no trouble when they got to Masaria. For all Kian’s worth on a battlefield, he had been a huge liability when it came to the company getting hired. The nobles didn’t trust a half-breed and the people feared him.
They had had a few small jobs over the last two years. Minor work for lesser nobles here and there, the pay had been little and the jobs undignified. The company had spent most of their time fighting off attacks from the Hand and that paid nothing. This time it might be different. Without Kian and his troubles, K’xarr thought he might get the chance to really show what his men could do.
He rolled his shoulders glanced at the wagon again. Lord Justice Dracen Milara was still out there somewhere. He would bet his last copper that the priest had not forgotten the humiliation he had suffered at Kian’s hand.
The truth was K’xarr was more than a little worried about leaving Kian and Endra on their own. If it was still just him and Cromwell, he would grudgingly go with them, but he had responsibilities now. He had his men to think of, and his future.
Kian would just have to take care of himself. The swordsman had Endra, but sometimes she was as crazy as he was. The corner of his mouth turned up in a grin. He should be more worried about the duo’s enemies. He pitied anyone that had to face the Sheildmaiden and the Slayer. “Rufio, get them on the horses and let’s move out.” The Dragitan put his fist to his chest in salute and started barking orders at the band of mercenaries.
Song Of Fury (Gods Of Blood And Fire Book 2) Page 4
