A Wind in the Night

by Barb Hendee

  “Hazh’thüm!” he barked. “Take your men and drag the trunk and treasury chest into the trees behind me.” He turned on Lieutenant Martelle. “Take your men and search the south-side woods more to the east. That has to be where this assassin went. Work your way west against the wind to flush out the assailant.”

  Only then did any of them notice the sudden silence. The horses had gone quiet, and the pinned Suman lay still and slack with his eyes open and unblinking. Lieutenant Martelle, his expression unreadable, glanced at the man.

  Without a word, he led his own men around the wagon’s back.

  Guardsman Comeau began to follow, but Sau’ilahk stopped him.

  “I have another need for you.”

  • • •

  The forest to both sides blurred past as the wagon raced along the road, and Wynn clung to the sidewall with one hand. With her staff lying beside her, she kept her free hand clenched around Jausiff’s—Aupsha’s—device made from an orb key.

  On one knee, Chane gripped the wagon’s opposite wall. Every bit of him except for his eyes was now covered, and the glasses hung around his neck on a leather cord.

  Wynn could barely make out Shade loping out ahead as Osha drove the wagon’s horses too hard. It wasn’t a safe speed, but she didn’t tell him to slow down.

  Then, without warning, Osha leaned back sharply on the bench and pulled hard on the reins.

  Wynn threw her free arm over the wagon’s sidewall to hang on.

  “What is happening?” Chane called, his rasp muffled through the mask.

  “Shade stopped,” Osha answered.

  Once the wagon shuddered to a halt, Wynn grabbed her staff with her free hand and rose to see. Perhaps twenty yards ahead, Shade stood poised in the middle of the road.

  Wynn jumped out the back and ran ahead to crouch as she touched Shade’s shoulder.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  —Shouts . . . men—

  Wynn didn’t hear anything, but she did spot a flickering light as from a small fire far down the road. At rushed footfalls behind her, she looked back.

  Both Chane and Osha closed on her.

  “I can hear and see it,” Chane said.

  —Wagon . . . fall—

  Wynn turned back to Shade. “The wagon has overturned?”

  Shade huffed once for yes.

  Wynn held out the device. At first it did nothing, but when she swung her hand left and right, she felt the device try to twist back each time, as if it was out of balance or invisibly longer and heavier on whichever side it wished to turn. It was in full balance only when she pointed straight down the road.

  “It’s here . . . the orb,” she whispered.

  Osha stepped up on Shade’s far side and peered down the road. Perhaps he could see and hear nearly as well as Chane.

  “Shade says the wagon has overturned,” she added. “They’re delayed, and that means we have a chance to catch them unaware.”

  “Osha,” Chane rasped, “if I come at them from the north side, and you from the south with Shade, we might take out enough before they spot us that the others will surrender . . . or at least I might get to the orb and run.”

  “That is ridiculous!” Wynn argued. “From my count, the duke has eleven men with him. You’ll need me to—”

  “You are staying here,” Chane cut in.

  “Don’t even start!” Wynn shot back, and when Shade looked up, she added, “Not you, either!”

  Shade still growled, obviously agreeing with Chane, and likely Osha, too, though he remained silent.

  Wynn knew she had to put all of them in their place. Shade claimed to have sensed a Fay in the keep, but under the best circumstances, she would do almost anything to keep Wynn from being alone out of the wild. That was where the Fay preferred to appear, out of anyone else’s sight.

  “Listen,” she began again. “You need a distraction, and I—”

  Shade suddenly dashed a few strides down the road. She halted, her whole body stiff with her ears fully upright. Wynn didn’t even have time to follow or ask anything, for Shade whirled and charged back, snarling. Wynn retreated two steps in reflex.

  Osha rushed in and held out his bow to block Shade. “What she do?”

  Wynn held out her hand, trying to halt the dog, and then she stiffened at one memory-word in her mind.

  —Undead!—

  Shade looked to Chane, and Wynn couldn’t help but do so. Chane was staring down the road and turned only his eyes to her.

  “She senses something more, yes?” he asked.

  Wynn hesitated before she answered. “She says there’s an undead out there.”

  “Undead?” Chane repeated.

  “Is it Sau’ilahk?” Wynn asked, turning to Shade. “Is it the wraith?”

  A moment passed before . . . —Different—

  “Undead?” Osha repeated as well.

  He had not heard—nor would he have understood—the earlier exchange between herself and Chane in the wagon’s back. Chane appeared somewhat stunned, or as much as she could tell from his posture and eyes. Perhaps he had donned all the gear without really considering how someone could have located the orb of Spirit hidden among Aupsha’s sect.

  “What do you mean, ‘different’?” Wynn asked Shade. “Like Chane?”

  —No . . . Different—

  “What is wrong?” Chane demanded.

  Wynn shook her head. “I think Shade doesn’t know . . . or isn’t sure, whatever it is. Only that it’s some kind of undead, perhaps one she has never sensed before.”

  Chane stepped straight at her. “Enough! Shade, take Wynn back to the keep now.”

  Wynn backed away, almost ramming into Osha, and held out the staff like a spear. “I’m not going anywhere!” she warned.

  Chane halted barely beyond the staff’s crystal.

  “What happen?” Osha asked, looking among everyone before fixing on Wynn. “What new danger to you?”

  With a grimace, Wynn rapidly explained a little about Sau’ilahk, the wraith who had tracked her over the past year, and his possible presence here.

  “But that’s not what Shade senses,” she added. “Even if he or some other undead is out there, I have the only weapon that will work against any undead. They cannot get to me, so long as I can use the sun crystal.”

  Still watching her, Chane let out a breathy hiss.

  “We do this my way,” she said. “The orb means more than any overprotective nonsense from any of you! Chane, take the north side, as you said, but Osha goes with you.”

  Both of them tensed.

  “Not another word!” she warned. “Take a position where you can see the wagon and whoever is there and then try to spot the orb. It will probably be covered or in a container, and you both know the rough size of one. Shade and I will cut through the south-side trees. If Sau’ilahk—or any undead—tries to come for me, Shade will know and I’ll ignite the staff. If not, once Shade and I close on the wagon from the south, I’ll ignite the staff anyway.”

  She paused, waiting for her words to sink in—or for any more futile arguments.

  “If Sau’ilahk isn’t here or doesn’t attack,” she continued, “igniting the staff will cause chaos, maybe momentarily blinding some guards. Osha, do not look for me or to the south, as only Chane has protection for his eyes. Once the staff ignites, Chane goes for the orb. Osha, you keep the remaining guards off of him. Once you two have it, get out of there and don’t look back. Shade and I will meet you at our wagon.”

  For a few breaths no one spoke, and she finally asked, “Agreed?”

  It wasn’t really a question.

  Wynn knew this was the best they could do with this unexpected opportunity. Each of her companions had reasons for not trusting the others, even though Shade and Chane had learned to w
ork together. All of them, including Osha, had reasons for staying close to her, and those reasons were now getting in her way.

  Wynn noticed that Osha didn’t have the bundled sword on his back this time. He must have left it in the back of the wagon.

  Chane was still glowering, but his gaze finally shifted. “Shade, one more thing.”

  He reached over to remove his left glove, exposing the ring of nothing on his left middle finger. This arcane object shielded his nature as an undead from anyone or anything with the capability of sensing him—such as Shade. Obviously he was giving the dog fair warning, for he pulled the ring off.

  “I want all my senses unimpeded,” he explained, “and I do not care who or what senses me. If there is an undead out there, my presence may draw it out.”

  Wynn wasn’t certain she liked that. Shade grumbled only once, for by now she’d become accustomed to suddenly sensing Chane’s true nature when he removed the ring.

  Chane tucked the ring into his coin pouch and dropped that inside his shirt. As he slipped his left glove back on, he looked directly at Shade.

  “Howl at the first hint of an undead anywhere near you.”

  Shade’s jowl twitched with an indignant growl at that unneeded reminder.

  Osha didn’t look happy at any of these arrangements, but he didn’t argue, either.

  Wynn ignored all of them; the only thing that mattered was the orb. “And don’t kill the duke unless you have to,” she added. “Take him alive.”

  • • •

  With his hand on the man’s chest, Sau’ilahk held Guardsman Comeau pinned against a tree. Comeau’s flesh aged and his hair turned ashen as his life drained away. Sau’ilahk stepped back, fully sated, and Comeau’s withered form crumpled in the night forest.

  Sau’ilahk ignored Hazh’thüm and the other two Suman guards watching fearfully out among the trees. He tilted his head and listened for the keep guards somewhere off in the forest on the road’s south side.

  Would mere keep guards, likely no more than country peasants with a little training, be able to catch an assassin who seemingly moved on the wind? Should he attempt to create a servitor to search as well? What specific but simple instructions could he give such an elemental construct to find what the guards might not?

  Nothing he pondered justified wasting his bolstered energies, and only mundane solutions remained. Of the wagon’s two horses, one was now dead, and the other was tangled and hobbled beyond use. But the mounts of the keep’s guards were still sound.

  “Hazh’thüm,” he called, walking off toward the orb’s trunk. “Gather the saddled horses and bring them here.”

  He did not even have to look, for he heard his servant guards rushing through the trees behind him. Perhaps they wondered whether killing him was even possible now. They knew only what he had once been . . . an untouchable being of death who commanded them.

  A simple but effective plan was the only recourse. He would tie the orb’s trunk and the treasury chest to one horse and then take another mount for himself. That left only two mounts, and obviously one was for Hazh’thüm. The fourth he would leave behind as a tease for the other two Sumans to use together, if they survived in covering his escape.

  A noble of Witeny appearing before others of his rank but without adequate guards would only add credence to a tale of insurrection.

  • • •

  Wynn crept behind Shade through the south-side trees, as the dog had much better vision at night. Shade understood the plan as well as anyone and always remained just within sight of the road.

  “This is about the orb,” Wynn whispered, “not me. You remember that.”

  Shade didn’t answer.

  Gripping the staff was difficult for Wynn while still holding on to Jausiff’s device. But she wasn’t about to lose contact with it, for fear it might go dormant. If something went wrong, she might still need the device to track the orb.

  Shade suddenly stalled, and Wynn bumped into the dog’s haunches and stumbled. Hesitant to speak, she reached down and touched Shade’s back.

  —Men . . . walking . . . in the trees—

  From what little Wynn could see, she and Shade were only halfway to a position directly across from the wagon. It was vital that they get into position in time to blind the guards for the orb’s retrieval. She hoped Chane and Osha were already set.

  Wynn closed her fingers in Shade’s fur to push the dog onward.

  The snap of a branch carried through the trees.

  She quickly dropped low, and her eyes followed as Shade’s head swung. The dog backed up into her.

  —Ahead . . . to . . . right—

  Wynn peeked over Shade but saw nothing in the dark forest. Then she heard twigs and leaves crackling damply underfoot. Between the low branches of one tree and the thickly barked trunk of another, she spotted a lighter shape moving.

  A keep guard in a gray tabard came forward in halting steps as he looked about. A moment later another appeared farther off to the left and halfway to the road.

  Wynn wondered what they were doing out here. Had she given herself away somehow?

  “Distract them,” Wynn whispered. “Draw them away from me.”

  —No— . . . —Not . . . leave you—

  Wynn yanked on Shade’s tail. All Shade did was swing her head around, bare her teeth, and refuse to move.

  “All right!” Wynn whispered. “Get us around them . . . without being seen!”

  And if that failed, well, she would have to use the staff sooner than planned.

  With a huff of agreement, Shade veered away from the road and deeper into the forest.

  • • •

  Chane made good time, and Osha had no trouble keeping up. It did not take long before they spotted the overturned wagon by a fire burning near it. As they crept closer, Chane heard a horse whinny. He ducked low behind some brush among the trees when he spotted the tall Suman with the close beard leading four saddled horses between the wagon’s near side and the tree line.

  Two other Sumans and Duke Beáumie stood waiting.

  “Down at . . . feet,” Osha whispered behind him.

  Chane rose a little and saw a small trunk and an even smaller chest at the duke’s feet.

  As the Sumans struggled to get the horses close, Chane looked about for any keep guards. He saw none, and this bothered him, for there should have been five. Where were they? Moments passed as the Sumans stood talking lowly among themselves, and one produced a rope.

  Chane gripped the dark glasses dangling against his chest. Wynn should be in position by now, but nothing happened. He remained waiting, and the only sound that took him by surprise was when Osha pulled an arrow and fitted it to his bow.

  Talk among the Suman guards ended abruptly. Two of them lifted the trunk and managed to settle it atop a horse’s saddle. The third began uncoiling a rope and preparing to tie the trunk down.

  Chane grew instantly edgy. Between the trunk’s size and that of the smaller chest, only the former was big enough to hold an orb, and it was heavy enough, judging by the way it was handled. One of the Suman guards let go of his end and turned, though he cowered strangely before the duke as he retrieved the smaller chest.

  There was no time left for Wynn’s plan.

  Chane glanced over his shoulder at Osha. “We cannot wait. We must—”

  Osha rose suddenly. Drawing his bowstring, he fired.

  • • •

  Wynn had gained only a short distance deeper into the forest when Shade halted and backed into her knees. The wind rustled too many branches, and it was two breaths before she heard what had stalled Shade. With booted steps ahead, another keep guard came into sight between the trees to the south.

  Wynn ducked back behind the low branches of a fir tree as Shade retreated to join her. How many guards were out here—and
why?

  “Anything?” the man called softly, and his voice sounded familiar.

  “No, sir,” another answered, even closer off to Wynn’s left.

  There were at least three of them now, and they were spread out. With no way to tell whether more were out here, Wynn realized that sneaking past this many wasn’t going to work.

  —Chane . . . waiting—

  Wynn almost uttered a frustrated retort. Yes, Chane had to be in place by now and was likely wondering when she would act. She had to do something—something desperate—and she crouched to whisper in Shade’s ear.

  “When I say, charge the closer guard to the left. You’re dark enough that he may not see you at first. Snarl and growl all you want but do not howl. The first guard’s shouts should draw the other two. Once they come running, I’ll be right behind and flash the crystal once. That should blind them for an instant, and hopefully Chane and Osha will act while we run for the wagon.”

  Shade growled low, but not a word popped into Wynn’s head. Wynn hoped a short flash wouldn’t panic Chane into thinking she was under attack. If she and Shade could hold these guards here for a moment, it might be enough for Chane and Osha to do as she expected.

  Wynn knew she couldn’t risk using her glasses with their near-black lenses. While holding the device and the staff, she wouldn’t have a chance to pull them off before she had to run. In her thoughts she replayed the Sumanese phrases that Domin il’Sänke had taught her to ignite the staff’s crystal.

  From Spirit to Fire . . . for the Light of Life.

  “Go,” she whispered.

  Shade ducked rightward around the tree and then veered left to weave around behind the underbrush. Wynn slipped the other way around the broad fir to hide from the guard ahead and the one deeper in the trees on the right.

  All she heard at first was the infrequent soft rustling of brush in Shade’s passage.

  “What’s that?” called the guard nearest the road. “Stay there, whoever—”

  A snarl and clack of jaws was followed by a scream.

  Wynn shuddered as shouts rose in the dark. She heard the other guards tearing through the brush toward the growls. She waited until the first of the footfalls was directly inland and east of her. She was already shouting in Sumanese as she rushed out.