A fighter, I thought, a warrior bred and true.
“Calm down,” I said, my tone low. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
I knew she had sky-blue eyes. Those beautiful orbs narrowed with hate and rage as she sniffed back her tears of pain. Her free hand wiped blood from her lacerated cheek. “Oh, but I want to hurt you.”
A third knife – where did they come from? – stabbed toward my gut. Knowing she didn’t have many weapons, but plenty of magic, I sucked in my belly as the dagger kissed my tunic.
“Bad girl,” I growled, my tunic shredded. I seized her left wrist and twisted hard. The third blade joined the first pair as she cried out.
Ignoring her curses, her obvious pain, I twisted both her hands behind her back. My foot kicked her ankles shoulder-width apart. That kept her effectively off balance as I wrestled her into some semblance of quiescence. “Rope,” I gasped, tossing my sweaty hair from my eyes. “Quick.”
My newest henchman, Kadal, ran forward with not a rope but a belt. Good enough. I wrapped the tough leather around her wrists, behind her back, and cinched it tight. She may use magic against me, but she’d do it without her hands. When I let go, she staggered away and screamed foul invectives.
“I’ll kill you slow, you Raithin pig,” Iyumi snarled, blue eyes sparking fire. “No one touches me and lives.”
Her creative vocabulary startled me. Princesses shouldn’t speak like longshoremen, I thought. But this one added interesting words my experience in rough taverns never encountered. I could use that one, I thought, as she compared my manhood with that of a pygmy monkey.
“Is this how the girls of your land greet their intended grooms?” I asked mildly, turning her around.
I snapped my head sideways, just in time. Her aim, while accurate, missed me and shot past my shoulder. “Cease this nonsense or I’ll have you gagged.”
“Raithin Mawrn shit,” she hissed.
I sighed. “So be it.”
At my gesture, Buck-Eye rushed into my territorial bubble with a length of cotton sacking in his hand. Dropping it, he dashed out again before I might shoot him for his lack of good manners.
“Open wide,” I gushed, forcing the gag into her mouth, past her wicked teeth and tied it within the lengths of that incredible hair behind her neck. Keep her rebellious spirit, I thought, praying. Give me that body and that hair. All I ask, oh ye Lords of Grace. That’s all I’ll ever ask of you.
Bound, gagged, Princess Iyumi glared as if by looks alone she might slay me where I stood. Having weathered such looks since the ripe age of four, I shrugged it off. Years of hatred and contempt thickened my skin to the potency of an elephant’s, and Iyumi’s hatred bored me silly.
“I know you can do better than that,” I sighed. “But, it’ll have to wait. Commander Blaez.”
“What?”
His obnoxious voice from outside the cave mouth annoyed me further. “Gather the men. We’re leaving.”
“About bloody time.”
Dragging the resisting princess with me, I pushed her past Buck-Eye, Rade, Boden, Torass and Blaez. The useless spies watched me from several rods away, sweating more than the mild afternoon required. With no horses and no weapons, I knew they hoped I’d take them with me. They were my father’s faithful servants, after all. I’d an obligation to save them.
They seemed to forget one tiny matter: me and that silly whore named ‘obligation’ parted company a long time ago. If my father wanted them saved, let him come get them. I’d neither the time, the manpower, nor the horses to help them get home.
“Run,” I advised them, dragging Iyumi across the sand toward Bayonne and the roan’s empty saddle. “Before the Atani come.”
“But – Your Highness –”
I ignored Floppy Hat’s plea, and pushed past Bayonne to lift Iyumi into the roan’s saddle. Struggling, trying to scream past the gag in her mouth, Iyumi whipped her head around, trying her best to smack me in the face. Yet, all she accomplished was to blind herself with her own hair. On she struggled, whipping about like a viper in my hand, always trying to bite. I deftly avoided her fangs, and set her in her place aboard the blue stallion.
Blaez, Rade and others trotted their mounts into a circular ring about Iyumi and I, forming a protective ring as Kadal and his mates swung into their saddles. About bloody time, I thought, approving of their alert, military stance. Rade, Buck-Eye, and Boden raised bows with nocked arrows aimed high, while Blaez, Kalan, Torass and Lyall bared their swords as their horses sidling sideways, nervous. Todaro edged his champing, sweating mount closer to me, acting as my immediate bodyguard. The horses – the men – they sensed something –
Too impatient to heed their warning, I grabbed Bayonne’s slack reins and growled to Buck-Eye. “Keep her there.”
He nodded, his dark eyes wide, and his lips thinned as his own fears showed. He gripped Iyumi’s shoulder, holding her in firm place when she would have thrown herself to the ground. The roan tossed his fine head, his huge eyes ringed white. He snorted, and his charcoal tail lashed from side to side. I half-hoped he wasn’t planning to buck his passenger off.
Seizing my pommel, I vaulted into Bayonne’s saddle. Taking my reins, I groped for my stirrups as I opened my mouth to –
Bayonne exploded into a vicious series of bucks. His head dropped between his knees as his hindquarters thrust skyward, kicking high. I had time for a ‘What the –’ before his third wild buck catapulted me from his back. Never a horseman at the best of times, catching me off guard and without stirrups, I stood no chance.
I landed, hard on my back and hips, my lungs swooshing out my air supply. I had difficulty getting it back. My head smacked something hard that splintered upon impact. Stunned, wrenched, breathless, I blinked dirt from my eyes as Bayonne stepped between the sky and me. His dark mane fell over his cheek as he lowered his muzzle. Huge equine eyes danced with mischief.
“Hail, Your Highness,” Bayonne said, his reins spilling to the ground beside me. “Sorry about that, I know it was rude. Hope I didn’t hurt you.”
Before I could make my mouth form a word of reply, all hell broke loose.
Wildly, I stared past Bayonne’s huge shoulder to the trees and sky beyond. Screaming Griffins in full flight mode, wingtip to wingtip, blasted past, low overhead. The wind of their passage blew Bayonne’s mane across his eyes and my hair across mine. The effect they had on the horses was nothing less than catastrophic.
Bayonne planted himself in a position of protection as the horses belonging to Blaez and the men exploded in all directions. Like me, Blaez came off almost immediately, as did Kadal and Rade. Their horses bolted into the forest. I lost sight of the others and had no idea if they managed to remain aboard as their horses fled, or if they were tossed to the ground out of my sight.
Princess Iyumi –
The wild thought of her, bound and gagged on board a panicked horse, flitted across my mind – what have I done?
In the midst of horses careening in all directions, massive Centaurs galloped across the grass and river sand, raising bows ready with nocked arrows. Pale grit, kicked up by their slashing hooves, drifted amid the long tossing grass as at least a dozen of them scattered wide. Never before had I seen the legendary half-man, half-horse creatures. Terror sang from my every nerve ending, and had I the ability to run in that moment, I’d have run screaming like a girl from that sandy clearing.
Kadal, with more courage than I’d given him credit for having, yanked his sword for his sheath and bellowed. A challenge, no less. Despite the chaos, he heard Bayonne’s words and knew him for a Shifter. Running, raising his blade, he lunged toward the silver creature pinning me to the ground. Though he’d been my henchman for almost a year, he took his bodyguard responsibilities more seriously than I did.
A great black beast, his massive chest crisscrossed with leather and his wild mane of hair bound by a headband arrayed with a star, galloped from amid the rearing, shouting Centaurs, his bow nocked and aimed
. Kadal never stood a chance. That bastard shot Kadal through the throat as he lunged toward me, his sword raised. Kadal stumbled and fell, gurgling, his fingers trying to yank the feathered shaft from his gushing neck. He fell on his face, bleeding out like a slaughtered lamb.
I groaned, wanting to shut my eyes from the sight of Kadal, a man who offered his life up for mine, dying like a hunted buck. I didn’t, and watched him gasp his last breath out on a stream of red. Despite my need to protect myself from my enemies, and those who hated me, I never truly thought anyone might actually die in my defense. While I hadn’t an opportunity to pause and reflect on my worthiness of his sacrifice, I did swallow hard and offer a quick prayer of thanks that he didn’t suffer.
Amid the organized chaos of Centaurs and Griffins securing the area and the perimeters, the Minotaurs arrived. Slower moving, I guessed they’d been held back as the reserve, ringing the area. Just in case any of us managed to escape. If I, or they, slipped past the Centaurs and Griffins, we’d never pass the alert and deadly Minotaurs.
Troops of royal cavalry galloped in from behind the rock towers and circled the area, ringing the outer limits. As the last of them arrived and rode into position, the uniformed cavalry faced inward and their entire unit stood at parade rest. At least fifty of them, I guessed. With swords in hand, the humans aboard their snorting mounts waited for their next orders.
How in the name of hell did they hide all these man-horses, two-legged bulls and flying lions? Magic, my mind whispered. Evil magic hide them, waited until I blundered into their trap. They used the princess as bait, and like a supreme idiot I blundered straight into it. Braigh’Mhar, here I come.
Buck-Eye, in terror, fell to his face, screaming in horror. Two Minotaurs and a Centaur glanced at one another in confusion. After watching this spectacle for several moments, the Centaur reached down and gently raised Buck-Eye to his feet. Buck-Eye slowly calmed as the huge chestnut rested his hand on Buck-Eye’s shoulder and spoke quietly for several moments. My man nodded slowly, half-smiled, and unbuckled his sword belt. The Centaur accepted it with respect and grace.
Blaez, of course, fought on. He screamed and thrashed, trying to fight with nothing but his hands and his terrors. A Minotaur, annoyed, kicked his feet out from under him. A huge bay and white Centaur with a lion’s head emblem on his chest scowled in irritation and flipped him over onto his face with one lazy hoof. Within seconds, my father’s pride and good friend lay on his face with his hands tied behind his back. He breathed in dust and coughed out his curses.
Beyond the huge body of the Griffin and Bayonne’s heavy form, I caught a swift glimpse of a huge Griffin loom over Rade. With a nearly black mane that crept down his chest to his belly, he reached out a deadly talon, aiding Rade to stand. Thrown from his horse, coughing, bleeding from his nose and mouth, Rade accepted the assist. A grey-coated Centaur offered a white cloth for him to clean himself up, and even tilted Rade’s chin back to more closely examine his injuries. I suspected he offered light, clinical advice, and saw Rade half-laugh in answer.
Rounded up like cattle, Lyall, Kalan, and Boden surrendered, raising their hands high as the Centaurs herded them into a tight group, arrows trained. Torass was pushed into their midst by a huge Minotaur with a broadsword nearly twice the size of mine. Todaro, keeping his whimpers of panic behind his tightly clenched teeth, stumbled into their company with a Centaur’s heavy hand on his shoulder. His weapons lay in the huge bay and white Centaur’s hand, seized from him at his surrender.
Between the half bulls and half horses, and the cavalry units that sat their mounts with bows in hand and arrows at the ready, we hadn’t a hope in hell of escaping. That didn’t preclude the spies from trying, however. Floppy Hat and a fellow spy, creeping like mice to the side, suddenly fled, and broke for the forest and freedom. Twin Centaur arrows caught them in the back. The third man watched his brothers fall, and screamed in utter terror. He bolted in the opposite direction. A Griffin the size of a barn dropped on his back like a hawk on a mouse, and snapped it in two. He died, his eyes bulging from their sockets. A faint, shrill shriek squeal, a high-pitched eee-eee-eee, sound emerged from behind his bloody lips.
The other spies fell into the heavy grass, twitching, screaming in agony and terror. Not yet dead, but dying too slowly. A single Centaur, similar in color as Bayonne with grey hair falling to his broad, bare shoulders, advanced slowly. He pulled his dagger from his belt. Leaning down, he cut first Floppy Hat’s throat, then the other spy’s. His heavy mouth frowning, as though he touched something nasty, he cleaned his blade on Floppy Hat’s shirt, sheathed it, and stalked away. He left them to bleed to death, choking, gasping for life. Their life’s blood soaked into the sand, turning it black.
I fought to get up, find my breath, help them –
Bayonne planted a heavy hoof on my chest. “Sorry, old son,” he said regretfully. “Your pals are toast.”
He raised his grey head, watching as the Centaurs rounded up the skittish horses, herding them back across the sandy clearing. Several enormous Griffins landed to all fours, furling angel’s wings across their eagle shoulders. My horse paid me no mind, as his attention seemed riveted upon the organized chaos that was once a silent clearing beside the mighty Khai. My hand crept toward my sword hilt. Perhaps I could stab him before he realized –
The pressure on my chest increased, shutting off all hope of breathing and listened as my ribs creaked. Bayonne’s head swiveled down, his ears cocked, and his formerly mild brown eyes now hard and menacing.
“Don’t, boy,” my horse warned. “Think you can draw that before I burst your heart like an overripe plum?”
Gasping for air, my chest slowly sinking under the weight of what I thought was my horse, I raised my hands. In surrender.
“Good lad.”
The pressure withdrew, although Bayonne kept his hoof squarely planted, should I get stupid again. I breathed in deep, ragged pants, the pain slowly receding. My ribs ached fiercely, but I knew none were broken. I’d had every rib busted in the past I knew what it felt like. Bayonne knew just how to apply enough pressure to get the job done without lasting damage.
More Griffins joined the flock already present, bellowing questions and orders to one another and the Centaurs. Several others back-winged to join their mates on the ground, their long lion tails lashing. Three circled low overhead, while others flew higher, over the towers and the trees. Keeping watch, I thought. In case I had more soldiers with me, hidden and ready to ride to my rescue.
Another troop of Minotaurs, marching in step with massive broadswords in their hands, stomped in from the north and entered the bristling ring of cavalry. Like their brothers-in-arms, they carried banners of a grinning skull on a field of azure. I recognized it, a shiver crawling down my spine. The symbol of the King’s dreaded Weksan’Atan. The Bryn’Cairdha Secret Police.
“Where’s the princess?” the black Centaur with the star headband shouted. He half-reared, his front hooves boxing the hair as he raised his bow in his right fist. “Your Highness! Princess Iyumi!”
He dropped all four hooves to the ground. “Find her! Search everywhere! I want every orifice within a league from here turned inside out. Go!”
They might appear disorganized and frenzied in my opinion, but those beasts under his command obeyed instantly. The Minotaurs split into smaller clusters and bolted to the four points of the compass. The cavalry, up till now silent and watchful, also sprang into action, and formed smaller units that galloped into the woods and followed each direction of the surging river.
“Boy,” Bayonne commented, his tone low and thoughtful. He raised his silver head and glanced around, up and down, seeking their lost heir. His black-tipped ears canted backward at the same time his nostrils flared red. “You better pray she’s all right.”
“She was,” I wheezed, choking. “Until you showed up.”
“If she’s dead,” my horse said, his tone dark. “So, my friend, are you.”
“Princess!”
“Princess Iyumi!”
A cadre of Griffins launched themselves into the air, calling Iyumi’s name as they split into a wide aerial circle. Those Centaurs and Minotaurs not guarding Blaez and my henchmen widened their search, probing into the forest, the river, endlessly calling. Was she dead? She had no hope of controlling her terrorized horse. Did she fall off and break her neck? In taking her captive, had I sentenced her to death? I’ll never live with my conscience if I killed her by putting her on that horse.
“There she is!” screamed a huge Griffin, owning a collar of gold and an emblem of a stars glowing over a half-moon dressed in silver around his pristine, white-feathered mane. He crouched, his massive wings wide, lion haunches coiling beneath him. He launched himself skyward, his white and brown wings taking him higher and higher with every downward stroke.
I’d no idea Griffins appeared as barbaric and beautiful as pagan gods of lore. I watched, entranced, by the sheer grace and raw elegance of these beasts as they flew or prowled like hunting cats around the caves and the river. On the ground, they furled those incredible wings across their shoulders, mantling them in tan and white feathers. Long feline tails lashed with unrepressed emotions. Large, tufted ears flattened or rose according to their anger, curiosity, or personality.
The impressive beast I admired suddenly dove like a frightened trout and flew no more than three feet off the ground, the tall grass kissing his feather-fur belly. Wings wide, his front talons taut under his wide shoulders, his lion rear trailed far behind him. Graceful, awesomely beautiful, he rose, his colossal wings wide to capture the wind. He blew past Bayonne’s silver head, offering me a swift, grim glance from those yellow raptor eyes.
“Your Highness!” he called, back-winging to slow his forward speed. The black Centaur galloped past, sending stinging sand into my eyes, as two more Griffins, a second grey Centaur and a huge Minotaur with immense curving horns and a rayed star on his breast ran past. I turned my head to see, but between the grit, my hair and the many hoofed legs, I saw nothing.
The Unforgiven Page 13
