The Unforgiven

by A. Katie Rose

  She nodded, her face tight. I threw the mule’s lead rope to Torass. “Keep her safe? On your honor?”

  Torass saluted. “My life for hers, m’lord.”

  I turned to vault into Bayonne’s saddle when Iyumi’s voice stopped me in my tracks. I half-turned back, my face over my shoulder. She gazed down at me, managing to scowl and smile in the same expression. “May the good gods be with you, Flynn.”

  I tossed her a grin. “Let’s hope so. Lyall, you’re with me.”

  Mounting up, I yanked my sword from its sheath at the same time I gathered my dark power into my hand. The sleep spell tried to work its way back inside my brain, a silent siren calling me down an evil path. Countering with a swift crush of my magic, it dissipated and died. Its passing left no clues as to who cast it in the first place. Doesn’t matter. With Lyall as my side I urged Bayonne up the trail at a strong lope.

  Buck-Eye and Boden galloped hard downhill, their mounts rear quarters slinging dirt and loose rocks as they fought the treacherous embankment. Boden’s horse all but slid to his tail as Boden reined him in hard. “M’lord, stay put,” Boden gasped. “Morn’n a dozen soldiers line the rocks ahead.”

  “Almost as many are falling in behind,” Buck-Eye added. “I saw ‘em from higher up, creeping along the ridge.”

  Dammit, I thought, gnawing on my knuckle. Soldiers ahead and behind. To our right, the mountainside dropped off at a steep and lethal drop. On our left lay an impassible mixture of huge boulders, spruce, fir, and elm trees, all on sharp incline. The high ridge where Boden rode to spot potential trouble had it possibilities as an escape route, but no doubt our attackers waited for us to attempt it. ‘Trapped’ was a word I found offensive. It had such a tone of finality, and I intensely disliked finality.

  “Whose soldiers?” I asked. “Bryn’Cairdhans?”

  Buck-Eye slowly shook his head, his dark eyes hard. “M’lord, they’re Raithin Mawrn.”

  As though a fist slammed into my gut, I knew what he’d say next. My breath choked off, I couldn’t speak. This is all so unreal, I thought. Does he really mean –

  “King Finian himself is there, m’lord,” Buck-Eye continued. “I recognized both him and his mount. Commander Blaez rides at his side.”

  My mother’s voice whispered in my memory: ‘He sees you as a threat. She whispers in his ears.’

  Turning in my saddle, I gazed down at Iyumi, the troll in her arms sleeping soundly, rag-bound. I knew she heard what we said, for her flesh had paled to a milky shade and her blue on blue eyes darkened. No doubt, my illustrious sire intended to kill me, and take her. Once his red mistress had the child, he’d rape Iyumi over and over and over. She knew it, too. Too tough to panic, she nonetheless felt fear. For those manacles trapped her the same way my father trapped me. Had she her powers –

  I swung back to Buck-Eye. “Is anyone else with him? Someone who controls magic?”

  Buck-Eye frowned. “I don’t know, m’lord. Blaez certainly does.”

  “The men I saw were common soldiers, m’lord,” Boden said quickly. “Not a one a knight, nor a noble. Forgive me for saying so, but the King keeps only brutes around him. Men who fight, but haven’t an original thought in their heads.”

  Boden ducked his face, as though expecting a harsh reprimand. I grinned. “That’s why I enjoy thinking men around me, Boden. For they are beyond price.”

  Under his pleased blush, I gazed around, assessing. Finian must surely know we spotted his trap, and planned his attack at any moment. I had seconds to prepare. The terrain worked for him. Did it also work for me? He lost the element of surprise. Finian’s men had the advantage of the high ground – or half of them did. I owned the high ground for the other half. No doubt, he thought to catch me between them. What if I turned the tables on him?

  For magicians, Finian had only Blaez. I had Buck-Eye and myself. Boden’s archer’s eye almost equaled Buck-Eye’s. Lyall’s skills with a blade from horseback won him several purses in tourneys over the years. Torass had his merits, also, but I needed him to protect Iyumi. What else did I have? Boulders. I half-grinned again, suspecting Finian’s choice of an ambush wasn’t ideal from his perspective. Only one man, or two if squeezed in tight, at a time could attack from above. The entire path narrowed considerably up there, and though I couldn’t maneuver for a stronger position, neither could Finian.

  Below, the area lay as open as a willing maid. Several men on horseback, if armed with crossbows, or spears, could quickly overrun mine. In that lay my weakness. I needed a strong weapon to protect my backside, and Iyumi. Buck-Eye once shot a buck through the eye at three hundred paces. He’d learned a great deal about his personal arsenal since he swore his oath. Time to put him to work.

  “Buck-Eye,” I snapped, seizing his attention. “Burn those bastards.” I jerked my head to the uniformed soldiers, now in the open, lining up to charge uphill. All they waited for was Finian’s signal. “If they get past you –”

  “Then I’ll be dead.”

  “Good man.”

  Buck-Eye shot me a swift there-and-gone grin. Forcing his horse down the hill and past us, he saluted Iyumi and spurred toward his targets. Where the ancient road widened, many tremendous granite stones lined the trail, the very rocks we trotted past not three minutes ago. In an impossible feat of courage, Buck-Eye’s horse clawed and fought his way to the top of a huge rock, a piece of the mountain that had fallen away from its mother eons ago. A mountain goat might easily amble up its rough surface. I half-expected the bloody horse to fall backward, crushing both his spine and his human in one swift act of gravity.

  Perhaps the gods wanted him there. The horse didn’t fall. Safely ensconced five rods above the trail, and our enemies, Buck-Eye casually nocked his arrow to his bowstring and pulled it toward his ear. He intended to launch both arrows and a god-forbidden rain of fire upon the heads of Finian’s brutes once they rode within range. I’ve seen his skill and I’ll thank the gods every night that that bad boy owed his allegiance to me.

  I also had a wolf. Horses feared wolves. One wolf loose among the cavalry horses might even the odds. Perhaps they might tilt in my favor, if the gods liked Iyumi enough. I glanced down at Dra’agor. His tail gently fanning the late afternoon air, he met my gaze. His jaw dropped in a lupine grin as though he knew what I’d ask of him.

  “I need you, brother,” I said, my voice low. “You don’t truly need me in exchange. You’re my friend and I hope I’m yours. You don’t owe me a bloody thing, Dra’agor. If I may ask of you a favor, will you be willing to help us out here? Keep Iyumi safe?”

  His enthusiastic woof and happily wagging tail informed me he was more than willing. Licking his whiskers in anticipation, he sat on the ground, awaiting my instructions. Pointing upward along the ridge, I gestured toward a thick clump of spruce and pine with generous helpings of scrub oak not far from where I estimated my sire’s men advanced. “Hide in there, Dra’agor. When I tempt them in, when they’ve passed your hiding place, attack their rear. Hamstring their mounts. Create havoc. Get those men off their horses. Kill them if you can, but if you can’t just keep your skin whole. Got it?”

  A sharp yap answered me. Dra’agor bolted up the hill, dodging amongst the thickets and boulders. I spent a precious moment admiring his lithe, predatory form as he flowed under and around the obstacles in his path. I watched until he vanished over the ridge, and silently blessed my mother for giving him to me.

  Glancing around, I noticed a tall pile of broken mountain to the right of the road. Several rods high and three wide, they appeared a natural barrier against an attack from above. Outside of dedicated men, and wolves, with brains, I knew I needed those huge boulders. Like a granite fort, those rocks might protect Iyumi while I fought Finian and Blaez. Only by killing me, and my lads, could Finian seize Iyumi and the gods’ messenger.

  Turning in my saddle, I gestured impatiently. “Torass, bring her here, double time.”

  If I was smart, so was my sire. Stoo
d to reason, of course – we shared the same brain. He also recognized my need for that sheltering pile of stone. And anticipated my attempt to use it. I knew Finian knew I needed those rocks. I knew he must prevent me from hiding behind them. Should I gain their shelter, no power on earth could shake me out from under it. Finian must keep me in the open. He must keep Iyumi and the kid safe and healthy. If I survived and kept Iyumi, he’d lose not just the eternal war between Raithin Mawr and Bryn’Cairdha, but also his life. He knew I’d own the power between his life and his death. And he understood what course I’d choose.

  The instant Torass spurred his horse uphill toward me, dragging the reluctant mule with him, Blaez launched his first attack. A blast of pure black energy ignored me as not worth mentioning and swung straight toward Torass. I almost heard his pedantic, nasal voice in my head: take out the weakest to create panic amongst the strong. Like an arrow homing in on the bulls eye, his racing terror plunged downhill and aimed to incinerate Torass in his saddle. Torass reined in his horse, forcing the beast onto its haunches, panic running through his expression and eyes. He recognized his death when he saw it.

  The mule continued to gallop forward, but Torass’s hand on his lead rein swung him sharply around. Iyumi remained aboard with ease, and her arms still sheltered the troll. Her face filled with an odd mixture of fear and anger, Iyumi rode out the mule’s panic and kept the child close to her bosom. Blaez’s incantation could easily take her out, also, despite Finian’s need for her to survive. Into the confused mixture of equine legs, dust and cries of horror blew Blaez’s vengeance. He hated me and, no doubt, wished to kill my men before he killed me. Just for the entertainment value, you see.

  My counter measure blew Blaez’s magical incendiary device far off its target to explode harmlessly into a spruce thicket in the canyon below. The trees, engulfed in flames, radiated a heat a thousand times the strength of a hearth fire. My hastily erected shield over my small gang kept the worst of it out, but I choked on its hot stench and Iyumi’s face changed from pale ocher to a high red in seconds.

  You stupid – I half-thought. Kill Iyumi and the child and you may as well slay yourself. Surely Finian knew Blaez never did anything by halves. Had his blow struck true, he’d have incinerated Iyumi, Torass and the mystical troll, leaving only their black ashes to dust the rocks. In sending all three to their makers, he’d cheat my sire of his prizes. Dimly, I heard Finian scream invectives, cursing Blaez roundly. I grinned. Hello, handy distraction. Kicking Bayonne forward, I waved for my lads to follow. The wrath of Blaez continued to destroy half the trees in the canyon, its black smoke coiling into the western sunlight.

  Arrows rained down, despite the King’s inattention. None struck anything useful, though one whistled perilously close to my head. With Torass in the lead, his heavy hand dragging the mule by its rope, Boden and Lyall flanked him in protective formation. Ducking their heads, hoping to avoid the arrows, the four galloped under the shadow of the tall rocks. Barbs pinged and broke upon the solid granite shelter as voices raised in angry disappointment from high above. Though I hadn’t expected it, a deep curve under the tower of rocks enabled the horses, and Iyumi, to weather the fight quite protected. At my gesture, Lyall remained mounted, waiting for his orders.

  “Princess,” I said, swinging down from my saddle. “I’ve no right to ask anything of you. But I must.”

  She gazed down at me, her expression carefully neutral. “Mind the horses.”

  “Yes.”

  Iyumi nodded, sliding down from the mule. Taking up the mewling babe, she settled it carefully in a stone niche where the horses wouldn’t step on it, and where she could still watch over it. Taking three sets of reins and a rope into her shackled hands, she leaned against the rock wall. I noticed the bruising around her wrists had intensified into a dark purpling. Fresh blood seeped from beneath the dark pewter. She saw me watching her, and turned her back.

  What did I expect? That she’d witness my concern for her and fall into my arms?

  “Greetings, boy. How good of you to stumble into my little trap.”

  Finian’s voice boomed down from on high, his voice magnified by close quarters and echoing eerily across the canyon. I caught Lyall’s confused expression and offered him a wry grin. My quick gesture ordered him to stand by, and I turned around to Torass and Boden, my finger pressed over my lips in a hushing gesture. I needed them silent, for I wanted no voices to give away their positions. Perhaps Finian may underestimate their abilities and their loyalty if he didn’t hear defensive strategies bandied about. A long shot, yes, but I’ll take anything I could get.

  “Give me the princess and the child,” Finian said, trying to sound reasonable despite his anger and the need to shout. “I mean you and your men no harm, boy. Surrender them and you’re all free to go.”

  This time, Iyumi pressed her forefinger against her lips and smiled.

  I obeyed her silent command to keep my mouth shut, and waited, patient. I caught her idea – let Finian get really, really pissed. Men didn’t think well when out of their minds with fury. He fully expected me to comply immediately to his demands, and when I didn’t, his anger grew with every passing moment. My silence would only serve to enrage him.

  Patience was never his strongest asset.

  “I know you’re in there, boy,” he yelled, his voice rising. “I have you surrounded. You’ve no chance of escape. Come out now, before I change my mind. If you make me come in and get you, you’ll hang while my dogs feast on your entrails.”

  A chill crawled down my spine. I’d heard that threat before, many times. As King, as a man, Finian hated being ignored. Years before, a baron from a minor estate far to the north dared dismiss Finian’s direct words to him at court. I was but a small lad, sitting at table beside my mother, the Queen. I remembered everything that transpired that awful night as though they happened yesterday. The baron pretended not to hear the King ask him a question regarding his holdings and his defenses against highwaymen. Instead, he laughed and told a bawdy joke reminiscent of Finian’s sexual escapades. Finian’s face waxed pale, then beet red.

  That meant nothing to the baron. It meant danger to me.

  The King barked orders. The baron was arrested on the spot. Despite the evening hours, Finian commanded the entire royal court accompany him into the castle’s keep. With half the city, and the entire court, watching, Finian’s brutes stripped the baron naked, and strung him upon the cross-poles in the center of the keep. There, feral dogs bit and chewed what choice bits of baron they could reach. He lived quite long that night. Later, in my bed, I listened to his screams, and cried, begging for them to stop. In the dawn’s early light, they finally did. When the dogs were whipped from their prey, the baron’s legs had vanished and his lower torso ripped into ragged pieces of pale flesh. Black blood pooled on the cobbles beneath his corpse. I’ll never forget my father’s victim’s face as soldiers took him down from the poles: a bloodless face frozen with such an expression of agony and horror it chilled my soul.

  I blanched and turned away, seeking to hide in my mother’s skirts. My father, witnessing my weakness, seized me by the arm. He slapped my face, glaring down into my tears. “Puny brat,” he snarled. “Look at him.”

  Trying again to free myself and hide, I clung to my mother. Finian’s heavy hand on my head forced me to stare at the remains of what once was a decent enough man. “Look at him! He dared defy me, boy. Look and remember. Should you ever challenge me, this will be your reward.”

  The memory, long drowned under the years of beatings and anger and hatred, resurfaced. Always I feared he’d feed me to his mongrels if I dared disobey him. Afterward I walked lightly around him, minded my tongue in his presence and avoided him whenever possible. I accepted his heavy hand as a reminder of what he’d truly do to me should I provoke him. If he took me alive this day, I’d no doubt he’d do exactly as he threatened on that bloody morning so long ago.

  “Come on, boy,” Finian shouted.
“I know you can hear me.”

  “I hear you just fine,” I snapped. “I merely chose to ignore you.”

  “This is your last warning, boy. Surrender your arms and the princess.”

  Iyumi felt my eyes on her and glanced up. I mimed a faint smile, though there was little humor and no warmth in it. “He’ll not take you alive, little girl. Not either of us. I’ll make damn sure of that.”

  “I have them hostage,” Finian yelled. “Your mother and sister. And Sofia. I told you I’d kill her. And so I will. I’ll cut her face and send her to the barracks. She’ll serve my soldiers as the slut she is. She’ll die there, cursing your name. I’ll gut your precious sister from crotch to throat as you watch. Unless you come out now.”

  The blood in my veins turned to ice. I knew my eyes flattened, for Torass drew back and Iyumi’s dark scowl halted. That bastard. He knew exactly where to hurt me, and didn’t pull a punch. He dared threaten Fainche? Sofia? My mother? I’ll see him drowning in his own blood before he dare harm a hair on their precious heads. He’ll die, screaming –

  “What, boy? You think you can save them? Should you win here, today, they’ll still die. Killing me won’t protect them, you know. If I die, she’ll still kill them, gut them, and roast their hearts on her fires. But I’ll make you a promise, boy. Surrender your arms, now, and I’ll spare everyone, including you. And I’ll forbid her to kill your lady loves. Do we have a deal?”

  Iyumi’s hand flattened, pressing downward, her expression set, intent. Don’t give in, that face told me. Never surrender.

  I didn’t intend to, for I knew what a faithless, lying bastard he was. I returned to her a quick nod. No worries.

  Finian’s rage exploded. “Damn you!”