Savage Pursuit

by Michelle Marquis

  Gavin picked up his flask again and downed a few more gulps. Getting up was now easier, the emerging buzz was finally taking the edge off his back pain. He couldn’t take another minute of waiting. They needed to get back on Harlan’s trail now.

  He marched out of his tent and walked over to where Gypsy was crouched poking at the campfire embers with a stick, probably engulfed in her own anguish. She looked back hearing him approach and immediately stood, turning to face him. “Is there something wrong, Excellency?”

  Gavin glared at the mercenaries shifting in their bedrolls. “Get the mercenaries up and break camp. We ride in half an hour.”

  Gypsy scanned the sleeping mercenaries then looked back at him. “But, sir, the scout hasn’t returned with the new route yet.”

  He leaned forward speaking through his teeth. “Then I suggest you bloody well find him!”

  “Yes, sir,” she said. “I’ll find him.” Gypsy quickly packed up her stuff onto her hyperia and rode off up the trail. Gavin kicked one mercenary in the ribs who had dared not to stir. “Get your lazy fucking asses up! If one of you bastards isn’t ready to ride when I am, I’ll carve your fucking head off! Is that understood?”

  The camp exploded with activity. Satisfied, Gavin stalked back to his tent. The flames of his fury were growing hotter, wilder, more out of control. He rolled up his bedding, packed up his gear, and prepared his hyperia for travel while a few mercenaries frantically broke down his tent.

  Chapter 4

  The spotty shade provided by the trees lining the trail did little to alleviate the punishment inflicted by the twin suns. Doctor Scarlet Jonson swatted angrily at a large flying insect that buzzed over her forehead. She was sure it was stalking her and probably poisonous. When she wasn’t defending herself from the native fauna she was folded forward wiping her sweat-drenched face on the bottom of her t-shirt. They had been riding for hours and she knew that if the travel was difficult and grueling for her, it must be murder on Gavin’s back. She was riding several rows back from Gavin’s lead alongside Desmond when finally she decided to say something to the general. She spurred her hyperia and was just pulling ahead of Desmond’s mount when he grabbed her bridle. Her mount hissed and tossed its head but he didn’t take his hand away. Desmond stared questioningly at her. His eyes were puffy with a tinge of redness. That was her fault. She had woken him up many times last night forcing him to identify the scary sounds that were keeping her up. He’d been a good sport, listening to the sound, identifying it, telling her she was safe and falling back asleep.

  “He’s going to need to rest soon,” she said, explaining herself. Scarlet was momentarily distracted as Gypsy rejoined them. The other woman was starting to look as haggard as the general.

  “Leave him be,” Desmond replied with the sullenness of a condemned prisoner. Scarlet had never heard him sound that way before and it gave her a chill.

  “He’s my patient, Desmond,” she said angrily. “His health is my responsibility. I need to examine him and make sure he’s doing okay.”

  Desmond shook his head slowly. “What you fail to realize is that you are nothing more than a servant with a syringe to him. When he wants your assistance he’ll let you know.”

  Scarlet yanked on the reins trying to break his grip on the bridle. Then she leaned forward and lowered her voice so no one but Desmond could hear her. “I am going to check on him because we also need to discuss his drinking while on his medication. He could accidentally kill himself mixing his booze with these narcotics. He’s on a very high dosage.”

  “That’s a very bad idea, Scarlet,” Desmond whispered back, hissing the s in her name. “You need to wait until he summons you and if you’re smart you’ll keep his drinking out of it. Gavin doesn’t respond well to lectures, especially from women. He’s been warned before and if he dies it’ll be his own fault. We’ll find Harlan without him.”

  Scarlet searched Desmond’s face wondering if he was serious. Surely Gavin wouldn’t harm his doctor while she was trying to help him. Desmond was just overreacting. “Let go of my animal,” she snapped.

  Desmond released her bridle and tossed his hand in the air in a flamboyant gesture of surrender.

  Scarlet hesitated.

  Up ahead, riding alone, Gavin was a study in grim determination. Steeling her courage, she rode up next to him and gave him a warm smile. He exuded cool detachment and didn’t acknowledge her.

  “We should stop and take a look at your back,” she said.

  A dark energy flowed from the general, poisoning the air around her with black rage. Scarlet swallowed, hearing her heart beat faster in her ears. She decided now was not the time to press the issue. She was about to ride back to where Desmond was, when Gavin took out his whiskey flask and unscrewed the cap.

  “We’ll not stop yet,” Gavin said.

  She stared at the flask unable to believe he had the nerve to drink in front of her. Hadn’t he heard a word she said about the danger of mixing alcohol and the pain medication?

  In a flash of temper, Scarlet snatched the flask from him and tossed it in the bushes. Then suddenly the world slowed down to a crawl. Gavin raised his right hand and brought it down backhanding her in the cheek with such force she flew sideways off her mount hitting the hard dirt with a thud. Scarlet tasted blood in her mouth and for a second she thought she was dead. The realization that she was lucky that she wasn’t was an epiphany to her current situation.

  Desmond, Gypsy, and a few mercenaries were just getting ready to dismount when Scarlet got to her feet and lifted her hands up to ward them off. She wiped some blood from her mouth where her lip had been crushed between his hand and her teeth and brushed the dirt from her pants.

  “I’m okay,” she said.

  She limped over to her hyperia and glared up to see Gavin pointing his saber at her face. Ice froze in her chest. He’s going to make an example of me. I should have listened to Desmond and left this enormous fucker alone. She pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly, staying quiet.

  Gavin stared down at her, his one good eye glowing with demonic wrath. “Go get it,” he said.

  Scarlet folded her arms and stared at him defiantly. Without removing her gaze from his, she turned her head slightly and spit a wad of blood on the ground. She didn’t take a step to retrieve his liquor.

  He caressed the tip of the saber along the flesh of her reddening face. For several tense seconds Scarlet was certain he was going to cut her, maybe even kill her. It was obvious that he was pretty unbalanced. A strong instinct to run nagged at her thoughts but she refused to let it win. She knew Gavin’s kind and she was determined not to show him weakness.

  Without taking his eyes off Scarlet, he said to Gypsy, “Lieutenant, could you please get me the flask the doctor threw in the brushes?” Gypsy dismounted and hunted around until she found his flask. She returned it to him and Gavin sheathed his weapon.

  Scarlet mounted up and locked her eyes on the road ahead. She was not going to be slapped around by this colossal asshole. The high and mighty Gavin Theron was dependent on her because of his injured back. The longer this mission went on the worse his back was going to get, and sooner or later he was going to have to follow her instructions. And Scarlet couldn’t wait because the next time he needed her help, she’d be the one in the catbird seat.

  Chapter 5

  Gypsy entered the clearing anxious for a travel route but there was no scout. A low fog obscured the ground blanketing the smaller plants and clinging to the base of the towering trees. She stared down at her mount’s neck, listening intently for anyone on approach and trying to keep her fury in check. The mercenary scout, Rhem, who had been assigned to stay on her mother’s trail, was proving to be a complete idiot and Gypsy was beginning to seriously doubt his abilities. Apparently he had boasted to Gavin about his vast experience tracking scents and had been hired on the spot at more than double what the other mercenaries were making. Every time she met with this moron he handed h
er a barely legible map and a pile of excuses.

  Earlier this morning when Gavin ordered her to get the new route, she went to Rhem and asked for the maps. But as was his habit, he didn’t have them yet. He said he needed just a few more hours. It was always a few more hours with Rhem. So, not having a choice, she’d given him the time he asked for. And now here she was at their rendezvous point and he wasn’t here. No scout, no route, as usual.

  The anxiety in the pit of her stomach morphed into black dread. If Gavin didn’t have a clear direction by the time the last route ended, he was going to rage at someone and that someone was definitely going to be her. Worse than her father’s fury was the realization she was letting her mother down. With every passing hour they didn’t find her, possibilities grew worse. Were her kidnappers beating her, raping her, had they already killed her… Gypsy’s stomach flip-flopped. Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead. She had to get that route map from that bungling asshole.

  After what seemed like an hour, Rhem finally appeared. Seeing his pale green face covered in a light sheen of fear-sweat fired her anger. “You’d better have that fucking route plotted,” she said in an ugly tone, riding over to him.

  He nodded like his neck was broken. “I do, I do.”

  Gypsy snatched it from him and unfolded it. She’d grown accustomed to reading his crappy scribbling so she studied the twisting trail indicated by a red ink line and the half-assed notes jotted in the margins. “This is only about a four-hour ride. Where’s the rest of the route?”

  Rhem held up his hands pressing them forward and back for patience. That action was a mistake because Gypsy had none. Just as Rhem opened his mouth to speak, she launched herself from her saddle knocking him off his mount onto his back. Going down with him she landed in the dirt and scrambled on top of him, sitting on his chest. Grabbing the collar of his filthy tunic she pulled his head forward and snarled, “I told you I wanted an eight-hour route! Do you understand how long eight hours is? What you have here is a pleasure ride of four! You need to do your fucking job the way I told you!”

  Gypsy twisted his collar in her fist and banged his head on the ground several times. Then shaking the half-crumpled map in his face, she said, “That’s my mother out there and if she dies because of all the time you’ve spent jerking off in the forest instead of doing what you’ve been paid to do, I’m going to kill you slowly. Do you understand what I am saying, you fucking idiot?”

  Rhem stared at her like she was crazy. “Yes, Lieutenant.”

  Gypsy got off of him with the crumpled parchment still clutched in her hand, resisting the urge to plant her boot in his rib cage. Straightening the feral creases she’d just made in her rage she traced the red ink line with her finger and glared back at him. “Are you sure about this route?”

  “Yes, Lieutenant. Of course I’m sure,” he whined as though insulted at the question.

  Gypsy scowled and studied the map. There was something about the plotted route that didn’t look right but she couldn’t say specifically. He tried to take the map back but Gypsy snatched it away from him. “What are you doing?”

  “I was going to add to the map,” he said helplessly.

  Gypsy leaned forward and spoke to him slowly so he wouldn’t misunderstand her. “I am taking this one. Now get out there and do another one that finishes the route!”

  A noise startled them. Trajan, a middle-aged mercenary with three gold hoops in his left ear, rode up. He had an impressive bundle of dried scalps on his saddle indicating he made some of his money as a bounty hunter. “The general is getting upset,” he said in a cool, neutral tone. “He would like that map now.”

  Gypsy mounted up and was about to take the map to Gavin when Trajan suddenly rode over to a patch of trees. She held her mount still and watched him. “Something wrong?”

  Trajan glanced back at her. “You smell that?”

  She rode over to where he was and thought she caught the faint scent of…something. Then she lost it. She shook her head.

  Trajan dismounted and took a few cautious steps toward a large rock. He crouched and Gypsy dismounted to join him. She walked up quietly so as not to disturb his concentration. “What is it?” she asked.

  He closed his eyes. “It’s human and definitely female,” he said. “Let me see that map.”

  Gypsy handed it to him and he studied it for a long time. She could tell from the knit in his brow that he shared her skepticism about the directions. “Do you think it’s right?”

  Trajan met her gaze. “I think it’s close enough.”

  “Okay, I’m taking this back to Gavin.”

  Trajan looked at Rhem. “Where’s the rest of it?”

  The scout mounted up looking sheepish. “I’m going to finish it now.”

  “You’d better work fast,” Gypsy said, “because I wouldn’t want to be you if you fuck me over.”

  * * * *

  Gypsy rode up to Gavin, her heart pounding. He was not going to be happy about half a route but that was all she had. She rode next to him waiting for him to acknowledge her. As she waited, she noticed the dark circle under his right eye and the deep frown lines on the sides of his mouth. His left eye, or lack thereof, was covered by a black leather patch but she was sure the skin beneath it was just as dark as the right one. He looked exhausted but determined and she was thankful he was so devoted to finding her mother.

  “Do you have the route?” he asked without looking at her.

  “I have half the route, Excellency,” she decided to get the bad news out of the way first. “The scout is working on the other half right now.”

  Gavin reined up his mount and took the map from her. He moved with tense, quick movements and she found herself flinching often. She wouldn’t be surprised if he hit her in frustration, in fact she expected it. But Gavin didn’t. He just read the map. After several long minutes studying the route and glancing up at the trail, Gavin handed it back to her. He glared off down a narrow path. “Do you feel confident he knows where he’s going?”

  A million responses came into her head. She decided to stick to the facts. “I believe he’s been right this far,” she said, remembering Trajan picking up her mother’s scent.

  Gavin looked at her for the first time since she’d ridden up. His one golden eye blazed with silent anger. “How do you know?”

  “Because one of the other mercenaries picked up her scent on the side of the road where I was conversing with Rhem. I think she’s trying everything she can to help us track her,” she said.

  Gavin nodded. “I expect the rest of that route soon. Do you understand?” The emphasis on the word soon broadcast the threat with no misunderstanding.

  “Yes, Excellency.”

  Chapter 6

  The pace was punishing and everyone was feeling the strain, but no one dared object. Desmond shifted in his saddle trying to find a more comfortable position. They’d been riding straight through for hours, each one blending into another until he couldn’t even remember when he last ate, drank or slept. Just ahead of him was Gavin. His fury and desperation to find Harlan was a darkness in his soul that enshrouded everyone. It was so overwhelming that no one felt they had the right to speak. There was only the mission. And until Harlan was found, there was nothing else.

  Desmond looked over at Gypsy. She was stronger than he’d given her credit for. She was taking the pressure well but tiny signs of stress were there for someone who knew what to look for. Her pretty face had taken on a pale chalkiness and those golden eyes held a tense, sorrowful look. But she rode with the same grim determination as Gavin, gripping the reins so tight her knuckles were white. Desmond knew she hadn’t yet slept since they’d left the empire and he couldn’t recall seeing her eat anything. She would probably be coping a little better if it weren’t her mother that they were trying to rescue. What miserable circumstances to get field experience.

  Scarlet too was holding up better than expected. She also had not slept much since their d
eparture, which he mostly attributed to her lack of acclimatization and the anxiety of having to deal with Gavin and his problem several times a day. Her usually plump lips were set in a narrow line as she occasionally shot wicked looks at his father. She was pleasant enough when the general spoke to her but she was nursing a potent grudge for the slap he’d given her earlier. Desmond only hoped she didn’t do anything else to tempt Gavin’s wrath. He was bad enough as it was.

  “Excellency?” Rhem called from somewhere behind Desmond. Rhem’s voice had taken on a whiny quality which could only mean he had bad news.

  Gavin ignored him and continued riding even though Desmond knew he’d heard the scout.

  Rhem became more nervous, crowding past Desmond to try and reach Gavin at the front of the formation. “Excellency?” he repeated. “Could I speak to you for a moment?”

  Gavin forged on, riding hard up a narrow mountain trail. He disappeared over the top with Desmond close behind. Just as Desmond reached the summit, he saw it. There before him was the reason the scout had been trying to get Gavin’s attention so badly.

  Twenty feet from the top of the mountain the trail ended in an abrupt drop. This route was a dead end.

  Gavin sat on his hyperia as the animal pranced nervously along the cliff edge staring down into the deep ravine below. On instinct, Desmond grabbed Scarlet’s mount as it came up over the top and pulled them both off to the side of the trail. Gypsy was next, her eyes widening in horror at the trail ahead. She shot a vicious look over at Rhem who was already babbling excuses at Gavin. Behind them the rest of the mercenaries came to a stop, crowding the trail.