by Janet Durbin
He followed the path deeper into the trees. Nothing moved. No crashing through the underbrush; no chittering sounded from above; nothing. Joseph decided to get off and look around for tracks. He saw some, but they were old.
Another mile or so down the path, a particularly thick patch of growth stood before him. Rays of sunlight shone through the trees at the entrance; they disappeared a few paces inside the tunnel. It looked more like a cave than a forest. No other paths led from the main one. Joseph considered not going in until he remembered his parting words, and the pair waiting for his return. The only other option available was to backtrack and find another path. That was not something he had time for right now.
"I guess we go in, boy,” he said to the horse. With a slight tug of the reins, he led him into the darkness.
Day became night in a matter of seconds. Joseph knew about some of the creatures that roamed in the night and hoped none of them were here. He looked back the way they had come. Daylight shone brightly through the opening in the trees. He considered leaving the horse behind, but ditched that thought. If he needed a quick exit, he wanted the animal near.
Faint rays of light tried to weave their way through the dense foliage above. A few made it as far as the lower branches, allowing Joseph to see where he was going. He could barely make out the path and the surrounding trees, but that was about all.
Unlike the other section, he heard creatures moving deep in the forest. None came close enough for him to trap. He also heard the flittering of wings as birds flew from branch to branch. Again, none came close enough for him to capture. While he cursed every living creature on the planet, the light shining through the trees grew darker. Night was coming. Joseph wasn't looking forward to spending it in these woods.
He still had not captured, much less spotted, anything before the last rays of the sun disappeared. With a heavy heart, he considered going back. Just as he chided himself for being so weak, an orangish-yellow glow bounced off the trees ahead. He stopped, trying to see what caused it.
A fire. Someone's got a fire going ahead. Joseph tied Bravaro's reins to a tree branch and moved forward to investigate.
The flashes of yellow and orange danced through the dark trees, beckoning him to come join in. He saw a break ahead and crouched low. The path opened into a small clearing with the remnants of a hunter's shack in the far corner. One wall of stone was still upright; the other three were gone. Rubble lay all over. Part of the mess had been cleared and six people, two women and four men, sat around a fire burning in the center. Horses were hobbled close by to prevent them from wandering away.
"What are we going to do now? We've lost track of Ruben,” a woman asked.
"I don't know, Viola. I do know we have to wait until morning to try and find the trail,” one of the men answered.
"He'll be going to Grandfield. That's where we always go after we've trashed a town, or had a bit of fun, if you get what I mean,” another man sitting next to her said.
"Of course he will, stupid. Seth, you amaze me sometimes.” Viola shook her head.
Seth made a move to grab his knife. Another man reached up and stopped him. “Don't do it, Seth, you know she can tear you apart."
"Probably with one arm tied behind my back,” Viola mumbled sarcastically.
Seth glared at the man who had stopped him, then at Viola. With a snarl, he pushed the man out of the way and fell onto the woman. They wrestled on the ground for a couple of seconds before getting up and returning to their seats, laughing.
"You two are worse than kids,” a quiet man with black hair said.
"Like you're any better, Garth"
Joseph recognized the people sitting by the fire. These are the people that killed my friends and family. He remained calm, even though his blood boiled. If I could get my hands on one of them, I could take him or her back for interrogation. Then Drayco can finish up from there. He listened in as they continued with their conversation.
"We best get some rest. We have a long ride ahead of us, and a lot of explaining to do when we catch up with the rest. Viola, you take first watch. Seth, you relieve her. I'll follow you. We'll each take two hours.” Garth watched to make sure his orders were followed before getting into his blankets.
Viola muttered under her breath, “Don't know who died and left you in charge.” She followed the instructions given to her anyway.
The night wore on. Joseph hoped the other two were faring okay, especially Drayco. He was plotting how to get one of the people separated from the others when a noise sounded in the woods off to his left. Seth was on duty and hadn't appeared to notice. He sat near the fire. A couple of times his head fell forward, then jerked upright. A yawn and a stretch always followed those incidences.
SNAP!
Joseph jerked his head around and focused on the area. Whatever caused the noise was circling around the other side of the camp. He glimpsed a darker shadow moving with stealth in the darkness. He hugged as close to the tree as possible and kept an eye on the area where he'd last seen the movement.
Seth finally heard the sounds coming from the woods and rose to investigate. He moved past the outer edge of the ruined building, away from the sleeping men and women. He never stood a chance.
A large, ill-proportion beast raced out of the forest and hit Seth in the chest, knocking the wind out of him before he could let out warning. The creature looked like it might have been a German Shepherd at one time. Unluckily for the mercenary, it had mutated into something that was no longer man's best friend.
Front legs that were longer than the back joined with the muscular upper body. Claws extended past the paws like those of a bear. Spiky hair covered the entire body, including the long, curved tail. Its heavy bulk kept the man pinned against the ground while the oversized mouth filled with razor sharp fangs tried to latch onto his throat.
Seth blocked the creature's attempts with his arms. He was not able to draw his weapon because of the suddenness of the attack. Instead, his thoughts seemed to be on how to get away from the gaping jaws snapping at him.
A grangoor, Joseph thought as he watched in horror. The beast must have been focused on the group in the clearing, which was why it missed the easier target close by.
Fortunately, the grangoor were loners. Unfortunately, for their victims, they were very aggressive and cunning. They could gut a man in seconds with its claws and drag the victim off where they could dine in privacy; something a thing a grangoor liked best.
The beast tried again to get at the throat; flailing arms kept getting in the way. It bit one of the upraised arms and dug its claws into the soft, exposed abdomen, ripping it wide open. Seth tossed his head back and screamed. The grangoor saw its opportunity and lunged for the now visible neck. The scream ended abruptly.
By now, the rest of the camp was up and moving. But it was too late for Seth. The grangoor had him by the throat and was dragging him toward the blackness of the woods, away from the annoying light caused by the fire.
Garth drew his sword and ran after the huge monster. “You'll not eat one of my people, you ugly beast!"
The others remained by the fire, unwilling to help.
"Come back, Garth, it's too late for him. Besides, Seth's always been a pain with all his wisecracks and practical jokes. With him gone, we can split the gold pieces he had stashed in his bag,” Sheena shouted.
Garth was hell bent on avenging his friend's death. The rest of the mercenaries may not have liked Seth, but he had. He barreled across the clearing after the beast that had disappeared into the forest, and stopped at the edge to listen. A noise that sounded like something heavy being dragged deeper in the darkness echoed through the trees. He was beyond thinking about his safety. He wanted blood, and dove into the thick growth.
Joseph saw the mercenary enter the woods behind the grangoor. He decided to take the opportunity handed to him and moved in that direction. Dragging noises sounded in the woods to his left. He worked his way over until he wa
s close enough to make out the dark shape of the man. Joseph waited. He knew the intended victim would follow, and he hoped to capture him with little or no difficulty.
He hit the mercenary hard on the back of the head as he passed a tree and watched him crumple to the ground. The dragging sound hesitated; it continued within seconds. The grangoor had its meal and had no desire to bother the men close by, as long as they did not try to take its food.
The four remaining people grabbed their things up quickly and headed toward their horses. They shouted for Garth; no answer came back. They probably assumed he was either dead, killed by the beast that took Seth, or crazy. Whatever the reason, they were not waiting around to find out. Minutes later, they were riding hard into the night, leaving the fire still burning and two horses hobbled in the ruins.
The sound of dragging and the pounding of hooves grew distant. Joseph decided it was safe to retrieve one of the horses to carry his prisoner back on. He worked his way toward the fire, making sure to avoid the huge, bloody smear in the grass.
Speaking in a soft voice, he walked slowly up to the horses with an outstretched arm. One, then the other, nibbled at his hand, looking for a treat. He grabbed the dangling reins, guided the animals to the only standing wall, and secured their reins to prevent them from leaving before he removed the hobbles. The bridle from one of the horses dropped to the ground. A resounding smack on the rump sent it toward home, wherever home was. The other horse darted around as far as the reins would let it, but calmed down when Joseph cooed to it.
Joseph pulled the horse to where the unconscious man lay and secured the reins to a low hanging branch. He had no fear that the grangoor would return; it was busy with its present meal. The fair-haired man wrestled Garth across the broad back and made sure he was equally positioned to prevent him from sliding off when the horse walked. Once he made it back to where Bravaro was stashed, he would secure Garth with some rope so they could travel at a faster pace.
They reached Bravaro before the unconscious man woke. Joseph grabbed some rope from the saddle pack and secured the captive's hands and feet. Another rope wrapped tight under the horse's belly, forcing the secured limbs to hug the rounded body. Joseph knew time was of the essence. He had to get back to Drayco before it was too late, and he did not want his prize to slip off during the return trip. They were well on their way when Garth recovered his senses.
"Wha ... what's going on here?” he demanded. “Who are you?"
"I'm the only one to survive the slaughter you and your filthy kind did."
"You! I know you! You're the one we captured with that cat, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"What are you going to do with me? I won't give you any information if that's what you're after."
"You don't have to yell. There's no one left to hear you. They packed up right after you disappeared."
Garth quieted down after that.
Joseph turned his attention to the path ahead. In the darkness, he did not want to lose his way, no matter how unlikely that was. The ride lasted another hour before he caught sight of the opening in the trees, and the moonlight that shone down on the open plains beyond.
"We're here. Don't get any ideas. I'll have no problems killing you rather than listen to you rant on about how you were treated."
Shyanne was sitting next to her brother, head hung low, as Joseph rode up. She tilted her head upward at the sound of his approach. He could see the dark circles of worry under her eyes. His heart wrenched in his chest. A bandage hid her left wrist; he wondered what she had done while he was gone.
"I had to give him something. He was dying,” she explained when she saw where his gaze stopped. “I couldn't let that happen, so I gave him some of my blood to hold him until you returned."
Drayco lay on the ground, covered with blankets to help keep him warm. He was so pale. Joseph had never seen anyone with skin as white as his still living. He watched to make sure the chest actually rose and fell to prove life continued within.
"I captured one of the mercenaries.” He jerked a thumb toward the extra horse. “They became separated from the main party and were camped when a grangoor attacked. I took the gift handed to me and ran with it."
Shyanne looked at the restrained man lying on the back of the horse. She stood and walked over to him, stopping when she was close enough to see his face. She crossed her arms on her chest.
"We need to ask you some questions. If you do not answer them, we will kill you.” Shyanne knew he was dead already, but did not want to inform the man of this.
"Go spit on yourself, lady. You'll get nothing outta me."
"Joseph, could you bring this ... man ... closer to Drayco please?” Shyanne moved back to her brother's side.
Joseph walked over and cut the ropes holding Garth to the horse. He left the restraints to the extremities tied. The prisoner slid to the ground and landed hard. He lay there, gasping for a breath. Joseph grabbed a handful of shirt and dragged him over to the pale twin. Drayco made no attempt to move. He was too weak from lack of blood to do anything more than watch. Even the simple task of moving his head brought on a grimace of pain.
"What do we do next?” Joseph asked as he deposited the prisoner next to Shyanne.
"Are you going to answer any of our questions?” she asked.
"No! Nothing! I'm not afraid of you! You can torture me and I'll still not talk!"
"So be it.” She stood, drew her short knife, and brought it toward Garth's neck. Shyanne usually had no problems killing. In this instant, against an opponent who could not defend himself, she hesitated. When she looked into Garth's eyes, she saw defiance ... but also, fear, though none of this showed on his rock steady face. She held the gaze for a second before looking down. The knife followed.
"I can't do it. I just can't do it. I know Drayco will die without it, but...."
Garth stared at the woman in front of him, a look of contemptuous triumph etched on his face.
"You'd let this trash live and your own flesh and blood die?” Joseph was visibly shocked by Shyanne's lack of action. “Well, I'm not going to allow that to happen!"
He grabbed the prisoner by the hair and pulled his head back. The horses with their ripped throats flashed though his mind. He also remembered the instructions given to him prior to leaving; about whatever was brought back had to be alive. Because of this, he put two and two together and knew what came next.
The knife from his boot appeared and the sharp blade slashed the exposed throat quickly. Blood spurted from the cut artery while Joseph put the dying man's throat as close to Drayco's mouth as he could. The shocked look on Garth's face was replaced with one of horror at the sight of his blood being consumed by another.
Joseph refused to allow the struggling man to pull away. He held Garth with the strength of a man intent on helping his friend survive.
Drayco watched the exchange between the three, unable to talk or move during the entire process because of his extreme weakness. He received the gift given to him with the eagerness of a man anxious on living.
Shyanne closed her eyes and turned her head away while Drayco swallowed each drop that poured into his mouth. She could not bear to watch the restrained man's struggles, or see her brother's look of contentment as he drank. She moved several paces away, sat down, and put her face between her pulled up knees.
Garth's eyes haunted her more than she would have ever thought. To have him die in such a degrading manner ate at her. She was ashamed at not helping her brother, but she had morals and standards, standards that she could not compromise for anyone, even her family. She loved her brother dearly and hoped, one day, he would forgive her for what she was not able to do.
The struggles reduced in their intensity as the man slowly died in Joseph's grasp. The lifeblood flowing from one became the life giver for another. When the flow stopped, Drayco reached up and wiped his lips with the back of his sleeve. He plopped the arm down on his chest, glad he was able to make that sm
all movement with little pain. He dared not sit up yet. He knew his limits. For the moment, that was one of them.
Drayco turned his head toward his sister. She sat a few paces from him, completely withdrawn in on herself, her head bowed, her golden hair glowing in the dim moonlight.
"Shyanne,” he managed to croak. “Shyanne, look at me."
She kept her head low and refused to look.
Drayco kept at her. “Shyanne ... please. I want you to look at me. Sister ... please ... look at me."
The effort involved with drinking the blood, after having gone without for so long, was catching up to him. His body needed to sleep. He tried to fight it off so he could continue to reassure Shyanne. Her forehead stayed against her knees; she refused to acknowledge his pleas.
"Shyanne, I love you very much and will never hold anything you do, or don't do, against you. Ever."
Joseph was not sure if she heard the last words; they were spoken so softly. He watched as Drayco's battle to stay awake was finally lost. He slipped into a deep, peaceful sleep.
He made sure Drayco was okay before carrying Garth's body into the woods, away from where the trio was staying. He moved to Shyanne upon his return. She remained bunched in on herself. Kneeling beside her, he reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. She twisted away before he could touch her.
"Shyanne, he said he's not holding it against you, and neither am I. I wish you would not hold it against yourself. He's going to be okay.” Joseph sighed heavily before he continued. “Shyanne, I love you. I never thought I would have the courage to say this, but I do. I realized it back at the mercenaries’ camp when I didn't have you there and thought I wasn't going to see you again."
He moved in front of the woman all scrunched into a ball, making sure not to touch her until she was ready. As the words hit her, she lifted her head. Her eyes met his; they began to fill with tears. His heart wrenched again. All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and hold her close.
"You helped Drayco survive by giving him some of your own blood. That's a sacrifice most people would not make. But you did,” Joseph pleaded. “Drayco still loves you very much. And so do I."
