Bones of the Empire

by Jim Galford

  After a few minutes without hearing anything more than the breathing of the people around him, Estin finally had to find out if the others were all right. “Feanne? Alafa?”

  “I’m awake,” said Alafa in her somewhat high-pitched voice. “I think Feanne got hit pretty hard when she bit one of them. She’s next to me and she’s breathing, but she isn’t doing anything else.”

  “She’s alive,” replied the same man’s voice as Estin had heard at the carriage. “Bleeding a good bit, but she’s definitely alive. We’ve got a decent enough herbalist at the camp. She’ll be fine, though she’ll be hurting when she wakes. If she bites me again, I’m tying her muzzle shut and cutting her claws. They said alive, and I’m sure muzzled is more alive than she’ll be if she keeps biting me or my men.”

  With nothing else he really could do, Estin tried to rest. He listened to the loud wind, coming from almost directly in front of him, and the distant sounds of water. He tried to adjust his weight on his sore knees, only to have the men’s hands come down hard on his shoulders. All he could do was wait and pray Feanne was going to recover.

  Kerrelin… Estin began in a prayer, only to chide himself. There was no such god. There was only the Miharon or Kharali, and neither was likely to be much help. He was on his own without magic, most of his friends, or just about everything else he had learned to depend on. Now he had only himself to count on. He would have to be strong and fast if he was going to get Feanne, Alafa, and himself out of captivity intact. That meant biding his time for the right chance.

  The wait went on for hours, interspersed with distant muttering by several men. Estin felt the scorching sun on his skin for quite some time, only to have it fade and the air become chill. Then the air started to warm as the sun slowly heated up the bag over his head again. Throughout the whole journey, he continued to tear his wrists on the rope, slowly loosening it as much as he could.

  By what Estin guessed to be midday, he heard muffled conversations between four or five men standing close by. The conversations were quick, but he managed to get the gist of their meaning. They were wondering if whoever had arranged this whole kidnapping was going to meet them anytime soon and take possession of the three wildlings. Like Shortbeard, they were just waiting to be paid.

  Estin steadied himself and fought to ignore the pain in his body. He would have to be ready to fight at any moment. There was no time to be hurting or tired, no matter how long it had been since he had last rested or eaten. He needed to be at his best. Tugging that much harder against the ropes, he felt them slide down over his thumbs as the blood and loss of fur gave him some mobility.

  He heard one of the men whistle for the others about the same time he heard a horse far ahead of him. A groan from Feanne let him know she was still not in any shape to run, but he could not delay just because she was wounded. Delaying might mean death for all of them, depending on who had come to meet them.

  Several sets of boots walked past Estin, headed toward where he had heard the horse. If he were to guess, three or four men had left. Now the odds were far better.

  “I’m gonna take the hood off you now so they can see you,” someone told Estin, kneeling beside him. “The others are still tied up, so don’t fight or someone will stab them. Stay still and this will all be over soon.”

  Estin nodded, doing his best to make himself look relaxed and keep his hands out of sight behind his back. The man fumbled with the knot of the rope around his neck, and Estin had to struggle not to fight, waiting patiently until that rope came loose. The moment the hood was pulled away, he yanked his hands free of the bloody rope and lashed out even before his eyes had adjusted. He caught the man in what felt like his chest. Estin hurriedly blinked to clear his vision.

  Nearby, there was one human man remaining, kneeling beside Feanne. He looked over at Estin in surprise, while Feanne roll onto her side, still bound with the bag over her head. She swept her paws past the man over her, slicing open his chest with her toe-claws, before rolling away from him and pulling cut ropes off her wrists. Yanking the bag off her head, she deftly punched the man in the throat to silence him.

  Estin wrestled the remaining man to the ground, clamping a hand over the man’s mouth to keep him from calling for help. Feanne punched the one she was fighting until he stopped fighting back. Once he was down, she pressed the bag that had been over her head to his wounds.

  Finally getting a good grip on the man beneath him, Estin drove his elbow into the man’s temple until he fell limply.

  “Are we killing or just hurting them?” Alafa asked, sitting nearby with a bag still over her head. The bag turned back and forth. “Feanne?”

  “We need to get moving quickly,” Feanne said as she looped rope onto the man’s wrists. From what Estin could see, Feanne had been beaten nearly as badly as he had been. Her face was covered with dried blood. “I’m fine, Estin. We will talk about our feelings later.”

  Estin hurried over to Alafa, who impatiently tapped one of her hooves against the packed sand they had been lying on. Unlike Estin and Feanne, she appeared entirely unharmed. He untied the ropes and yanked away the bag on her head, only to have her take a swing at his head. She immediately squeaked and covered her mouth as she whispered an apology.

  “Let’s run before they know we’re free,” Estin said, giving her a hand up.

  Once Alafa was on her feet, Estin searched the area for a clear path out. Straight ahead, he could see a group of horses near a copse of trees and leafy bushes that seemed to stand out in the otherwise sandy area. To his right, he saw a seemingly endless expanse of sand. Turning, he found they had followed the river in the carriage. It lay no more than a quarter mile away, with green swaths of grass and ferns on either shore. In the remaining direction, Estin saw rocky hills along the river’s sides, blocking his view of anything farther north.

  Estin started toward the hills, only to stop a few feet later, realizing he was the only one walking. Looking back, he saw Feanne was standing with her arms crossed near bags the humans had brought while Alafa rummaged around inside of the sacks.

  “They’re going to come back!” Estin hissed, pointing toward the oasis where the horses could be seen.

  Feanne shook her head and shrugged.

  Alafa let out a happy squeal and pulled her oversized hat out of the bags. She pushed it down on her head, letting her ears poke out two slits that had been made in the top.

  Shouts from the direction of the oasis made Estin’s stomach tighten. He did not need to look to know the humans were coming back.

  “Start running!” Estin said, pointing toward the rocky area.

  Alafa ran with a speed Estin could not match, quickly passing Feanne and then Estin. They all ran diagonally toward the river, mostly aiming themselves toward the stone hills in the distance—the only real cover for miles.

  Glancing over his shoulder once they reached the shore, Estin saw four humans were running after them. One had dropped back to check on the ones they had left on the ground. Behind the humans out near the oasis, Estin could see silhouettes of several people in cloaks near the horses. He could not make out more at that distance, with the sun casting the shadows of the trees across them. Whoever they were, they were likely the ones who had paid for the kidnapping, or they might know who did.

  Turning his attention back to the beach, Estin saw Alafa had slowed her pace to let them catch up somewhat. Far ahead, the hilly area was littered with pale tan stones that would make running difficult. The river seemed to cut through the hills, likely making a far better way to pass north to south than by land. Still, he had lived most of his life in and around mountains. Rocky terrain would be ideal for hiding and might get them ahead of their pursuit. Estin did not need to even say it. He could see both females were looking toward the rocky area with the same kind of acceptance that he felt.

  They ran on for nearly an hour until they reached the first of the broken stone outcroppings. Once there, they had no choice but to slow
their pace. They ran between the stones as they tried to make their way steadily north, putting as much rough terrain between themselves and the humans as possible. When they could, they picked routes that would be impossible for the humans’ horses to follow.

  “This way!” Alafa called, leading them through the winding gaps between the stones. She took them in the straightest path she could, though they often detoured into narrow spaces where there was little chance of anyone seeing them from a distance.

  They ran for another half hour, until the sun was falling low and out of sight, the tall stones blocking much of their view of the sky. They did not stop until Alafa took them around another curve and into a wider gap, where a thin stream of water from the main river trickled through the rocky area. As a group, they came to a near stop, staring at the water before they silently agreed to take a break to drink.

  Estin could barely believe how thirsty he was. He plunged his muzzle into the shallow stream and drank the cold water. He had managed to ignore how hungry, thirty, and tired he had gotten right up until he saw the creek without anyone standing around trying to kill or capture him. It took effort to stop drinking before his stomach cramped, knowing he would have to run again soon.

  Sitting back on his ankles, Estin took a deep breath and tried to rest his muscles for the moment. Alafa and Feanne continued to drink from the river more slowly than he had. He watched over them as they knelt, trying to keep an eye on both entrances to the section of stones where they were hiding, to be sure no one got the drop on them. It would be easy to get trapped there if they were careless.

  A shadow near Feanne caught Estin’s eye, and he studied it, unsure what to make of it at first. He initially thought it to be from a cloud, but before he looked over his shoulder to check, a vaguely man-shaped silhouette on the top of the stones raised what appeared to be a bow.

  “Archer!” Estin called out.

  Both females reacted instantly. Alafa threw herself backward into the shadow of the stone wall, and Feanne tumbled to her side and then scurried over to a large stone to use it as cover.

  Making a quick sweep of the top of the stones as he got behind a stone of his own, Estin easily spotted the archer. The man or woman was mostly covered by a long tan traveling cloak with hood, and the person’s weapon was lowered to their side. As soon as the females went to cover, the archer dropped to its knees. Its hood turned slowly, trying to find all three of them. If they left cover, Estin had no doubt that the archer would pick them off quickly. It would be an easy shot from that vantage point.

  Estin leaped at the nearly sheer stone wall and began climbing, having already realized the angle would prevent the archer from firing down on him easily. He reached the top and threw himself vertically at the archer, who was shifting around the edge of the cliff, trying to see where he was. Landing at the very lip of the stones, Estin grabbed the archer’s bow with one hand and his or her shirt with his other, ready to throw the person off the cliff.

  A cry from below made Estin look down. There, Alafa was recoiling from slamming her forehead into the face of another cloaked attacker. It had been the cloaked stranger that had cried out, falling to the ground in front of Alafa. Another archer appeared with weapon drawn and aimed at Alafa, who raised her hands in surrender.

  Looking the other way, Estin saw Feanne trying to fight another of the cloaked people. She kicked at the same-sized foe, only to have the other person block her kick and come in fast, punching Feanne in the throat. Feanne went down hard, gasping. She was simply not quick enough to keep up with her enemy.

  Estin snarled and tried to adjust his weight to throw the person he was fighting, only to lose his grip on the bow. The archer reeled back and struck Estin across the jaw with tit, nearly knocking him off the ledge. A second blow to the back of his head dropped him to his knees.

  Another bag went over Estin’s head and he was tied up again, with his wrists tied to his ankles to prevent him from running.

  He was dragged for a while before being dropped onto the ground. This time the ground felt dusty or sandy. He was clearly nowhere near the stones or the river, or his captors had moved him to a new area far from the parts of the region he had seen so far.

  “Feanne? Alafa?” he called out as soon as he had been released.

  “We’re fine, Estin,” Feanne said from somewhere off to his left. “Bruised and embarrassed at being beaten in that fight, but fine. Are you all right?”

  “About the same,” Estin answered, laying on the soft ground. He lay there for some time, trying to figure out what was going on and how he could escape again, when he began to pick out bits of conversation nearby. None of the voices were familiar, and they were clearly trying to keep their voices low to prevent being overheard.

  The first voice, a man, was saying, “She’ll kill us when she sees what we did.”

  “We didn’t have a choice!” hissed a woman in reply.

  “I know, I know,” the first man quickly added. “That doesn’t make it okay. Why did you hit her like that?”

  “You saw what the other one did…I panicked.”

  Another female voice added, “I’m fine, thanks for asking.”

  “You got beat up by a deer,” a second man noted, giggling.

  “And you’ll get beat up by me if you keep laughing,” the second female replied testily.

  Estin thought about the people he had seen. With the voices he was hearing, it confirmed there were no less than four people. He strained to pick out any more, but he heard little else as the four lowered their voices again.

  Time passed slowly, and Estin realized the air had cooled again. Another day gone and they were still captives. It was hardly how he had imagined being back on dry land and with his mate. He was supposed to be gleefully heading toward Corraith with Feanne in tow.

  His thoughts were shattered as he heard someone walk up beside him, soft boots barely crunching on the sand. “Hello?” asked Estin, sitting up and turning his head, though he could not see anything through the bag. “Who’s there?”

  “I…um…me,” came a slightly nasal female voice, which Estin recognized as the second woman’s voice—the one Alafa hit, which explained the stuffy tone. “We were worried that you three hadn’t eaten in a while, and I wanted to change that. Will you behave yourself if I take the bag off and offer you some food?”

  Estin nodded and said nothing. Food sounded wonderful, even if he had to take it from someone who was holding him captive. He could worry about escaping once he had his strength back. That would require playing along for a while, which would give him time to learn something about these people.

  After a moment, during which the woman seemed to be hesitating, the knot on the bag over his head was gently loosened. Once untied, it was pulled away quickly as the person stepped away from him, clearly expecting him to attack. In doing so, Estin got a good look at her.

  About the same height as Estin and Feanne, the female fox wildling was dressed in white and grey loose-fitting clothing. She had gotten rid of the cloak she had been wearing earlier, allowing him to see her face clearly. Pale brown fur and vastly oversized ears marked her as a desert fox. The dried blood all across her muzzle let him know Alafa had hurt her pretty badly. She eyed Estin warily before kneeling in front of him and picked up a steaming bowl of what smelled like heavily seasoned meats and cooked fruits.

  “If you bite me or hit me, you’re probably not getting fed again for days,” she warned, picking up a chunk of meat with her claws as she watched Estin.

  “I won’t fight you right now,” Estin promised, glaring at her until she looked away nervously. “No promises later.”

  Her ears twitched nervously, but she finally held out the meat for him, which he took with his front teeth, given that his hands were tied behind his back yet. The meat was exquisite, likely because of how hungry he was. After she gave him several more pieces and a few bits of fruit, he sat back and watched her.

  “Didn’t expect any
one to send wildlings to capture us,” he said, propping his back against a nearby stone as he continued chewing the last of the meat. “I was expecting Turessians or almost anyone else.”

  She smirked and set aside the bowl, pulling her knees up in front of herself as she watched Estin right back. In doing so, he caught a flash of metal in the fur of her hand. A ring. Everything she did or wore was a clue Estin tried to absorb, knowing it might be the difference between life and death later.

  Digging her toes into the sand—which allowed Estin to notice that her claws were worn from much walking barefoot—she took a long time to reply. When she did, she said, “You aren’t what I expected either. We didn’t want to hurt anyone. You know that, right?”

  “The bows were not convincing.”

  Grinning, she answered, “We weren’t sure if you were the right people at first. Once we knew, it was too late to approach you properly.”

  “How about giving me your names and who you work for,” he asked in reply, twisting his hands and finding the knots solid.

  Beside him, Feanne had her head clear as well, though she was tied more securely than Estin. She watched him with an expression that told him she was more than ready to start killing people. Alafa he could smell nearby, but with many rocks around them, he could not see her or the others who had captured them.

  “It might help convince us you aren’t our enemies.”

  The fox frowned and looked between Feanne and Estin. “That’s fair…and why I’m supposed to watch you two. They figured no one knows me, so it’s safer…and I was curious. Call me Marr. It’s short of Elmarle, but no one’s called me that since I was a little pup.”

  Estin smirked at her seemingly friendly banter. “Marr? I knew an elven thief out near Corraith named Marra. Any relation?”

  Marr’s expression soured, and she pointed at her muzzle. “Not an elf…but when my parents died, the first person to take me in was a woman named Marra. Doubt it’s the same person. It’s a common name.”