by Cindy Dees
An orc swung a war club at Will, who parried the blow with his longer staff and riposted with a quick jab to the creature’s exposed shoulder. The orc staggered back, clutching his arm as Will looked around frantically. The seven in his party had been attacked by at least as many orcs, all bearing the irregular red forehead markings of the Boki, and two of his number were healers and not combatants. This was bad. Very, very bad.
CHAPTER
22
“My lady, that wounded fellow who was found in the woods this morning is asking for you.”
Gabrielle looked up in surprise at the servant boy. “Me? I am no healer.”
The boy shrugged apologetically. He obviously had no more information than he’d just given her. With a sigh, she rose, made her way across the bailey to the infirmary, and ducked into the small cottage built off by itself to isolate diseases from the castle population. A Heart adept looked up as she entered.
“Thank you for coming, Your Highness. This man is refusing treatment until he speaks with you.”
“In private,” the gravely wounded man gasped.
Gabrielle’s ever-present bodyguard made a sound of denial behind her as she studied the man. He looked like any other peasant, roughly dressed and work hardened. With great effort, he moved his right hand from under the blanket and laid it on top of the wool, wrist up. She spied the crude tattoo inside his wrist as she was obviously meant to, and her stomach clutched.
“I will speak with this gentleman alone,” she declared. “Please leave us.”
Her guard protested, but she raised a hand, cutting him off. It was not often she pulled rank, but tonight she did so. “I insist,” she said with quiet authority.
The healer and one extremely unhappy knight backed out of the cottage. When the door had latched, she turned quickly and knelt at the side of the man with the eight-pointed compass tattoo. “Have you a message for me?” she murmured low.
“News. Must get it to the Eight. Have you a way to pass it to them?” The man did indeed sound as if he were on his last legs.
“Yes, of course.” If Talissar was not one of the Eight’s inner circle, he would surely know one of their number.
“Insurrection brews on Haelos. Factions there test Anton’s strength. Move against him indirectly. They will drain the colony’s resources and, furthermore, draw Imperial attention. Force Koth to send reinforcements.”
“Is that all?” she asked.
He nodded, and then his eyes rolled up into his skull alarmingly.
“Adept!” she called out urgently. “Come quick!”
The healer, hands glowing, and her guard, sword drawn, rushed inside the cabin.
“He’s died,” she reported. “I shall leave so you may do your best to revive him.”
The adept nodded, already gathering magic for a life spell. She swept out of the infirmary quickly. She had no wish to be present when the fellow fully regained consciousness. Her desire to question him, to learn more of the mysterious Eight, was nigh overwhelming.
She fingered the Octavium Pendant Talissar had given her. She’d worn it continuously since her memory of Darius returned. She would not risk forgetting her loyal knight and his supreme sacrifice again. In addition, her impulses to dance embarrassingly in the Emperor’s gardens had not returned since she donned the talisman. Of course, neither had Starfire returned to court since he was ordered by Maximillian to walk the Ice Bridge all those years ago.
Clearly, the Eight’s plans centered around the colony of Dupree. And given the urgency of the fellow’s message, she could only assume that the Eight’s plans might be nearing fruition in Dupree. Was the collapse of the first buttress holding up the Empire closer than she had realized?
She strolled back to the castle thoughtfully. She started at the noise of a trumpet announcing the arrival of guests to the castle. Any time Imperial nobles came to the outer kingdoms, local nobles flocked to get face time with members of the court, to make contacts and maybe gain favor.
She called to the steward whom she spied hurrying toward the bailey, “Who is it?”
“Brialla of Aurenhorn and her brother, Idrys.”
Gabrielle’s heart near skipped a beat. Brialla was the kindari daughter of Talissar and the Queen of Quantaine. Idrys Bowyn was Brialla’s twin, a silvani. Surely no mere coincidence accounted for Talissar’s offspring arriving here at the same time as both Laernan and a messenger bearing news for the Eight. Did the twins work for their father’s cause as well, then? Neither twin was often at court. It was possible they avoided the scrutiny of the Emperor—
Gabrielle ordered the steward, “I will meet them personally. Show them to my solar. Have refreshments sent up immediately.” He veered toward the kitchens while she glanced up quickly at the sun. Lunch was perhaps an hour gone by. How much longer her husband and the psionic hunters would be afield was anybody’s guess. If the twins had business from the Eight to conduct in Haraland, it would have to happen fast.
The entourage piled into the bailey noisily, and she waited impatiently for the twins to separate themselves from the others. Soon enough a handsome pair of youths stepped forward and bowed formally to her. She returned the bow and then said warmly, “Welcome to Haraland. My lord husband is afield, but I will be honored to entertain you until his return.”
Under her breath, Brialla murmured, “That suits us well, as our business is with you, Your Highness.”
“Ahh,” Gabrielle breathed. Louder, she ordered servants to show the entire party into the great hall and bring food and drink for all the travelers. In short order she led the twins to her private office and closed the door. A light snack was already laid out and waiting. She served the twins herself.
“How may I help you?” she asked bare moments after she handed her guests their plates and goblets.
Brialla fingered a pendant nearly identical to Gabrielle’s and murmured, “A ship will make port soon in Haraland, and we have passengers and cargo that must needs be aboard when it sails again.”
A coastal nation, Haraland was renowned for its deepwater port and fleet of oceangoing vessels. “What ship do you have in mind?”
“The Black Ship Courageous. It makes shore one last time before crossing to Haelos.”
She started. The Black Ships were another matter entirely. Imperial harbormasters and longshoremen loaded and unloaded the mighty juggernaut-class vessels personally and saw to their comings and goings separate from all other ships passing through.
“Have you these passengers and supplies with you?” she asked.
“Aye. Several avarians you can recognize by the white swans on their heraldry. And various items in their baggage … mostly magical in nature. Nothing that would draw the attention of an Imperial inspector, of course.”
“I will have a word with Regalo. He can have a conversation with the Imperial harbormaster. He will see to it the passengers and their baggage make the ship.”
“My thanks, Your Highness. Whilst my sister and I are here, is there aught we can do for you?” Idrys asked quietly.
“In fact, there is. A Child of Fate, a stargazer of no small talent, has emerged in Haraland. High Lord Inquisitor Laernan and the Emperor’s Master of Hounds arrived yester eve and already hunt her.”
Idrys lurched upright in his chair. “Do you know the whereabouts of this Child? We must get her out of Haraland immediately!”
“My thought exactly. I can tell you where she last was and who I sent to take her away. Any aid you could render, any diversion to the hounds, would be immensely helpful.”
“Consider it done,” the twins murmured in unison. They rose in graceful and perfect unison as well.
“Might we trouble you for inconspicuous clothing?” Idrys asked.
As Gabrielle nodded, Brialla added, “And is there, perchance, a … discreet … way to leave the castle?”
“Of course. Follow me.”
* * *
Will took a quick, assessing look around the fire
light clearing. Unless he did something creative and unexpected, this fight was going to go against them very fast. Even in the few seconds it took him to look about, his companions were all but overrun.
Rosana was holding her own at the moment. The combination of her colors, her brightly glowing hands, and the most colorful stream of invective he’d ever heard issue from a female mouth seemed to have frozen the orcs before her in place.
The brush was thick around them, though, making use of magic nigh unto impossible except at very close range. The heavy foliage provided abundant cover to duck and hide from bolts of magic or thrown alchemy globes. Cicero seemed to be thinking the same thing, for he drew his short bow quickly. Arrows would fly true through underbrush. The heavy brush was also going to make movement difficult. Swinging his staff was going to be a problem. If only he knew the first thing about fighting with a sword! But his father had never deigned to teach Will bladed combat.
Sha’Li hadn’t run. Backed up against a tree, long claws extended from her fingers, she swung them in continuous and vicious arcs before her. As he glanced her way he saw her spit. A stream of black fluid streamed from her mouth and smacked the orc nearest her on the face. The beast screamed and collapsed to his knees, his hands tearing at his skin as if acid ate at it.
Will’s gaze shifted to Kendrick, whose sword flashed so fast Will could hardly make out his weapon. Still, a wall of orcs was advancing on the young warrior and would overrun his position in a few seconds. Raina was gathering a massive ball of magical energy behind Cicero, but what she planned to do with it Will could not guess. As far as he knew, she had no skill with combat spells.
Eben fought with his back to a tree, and Kendrick was making his way toward his friend. They were both excellent fighters and would give the orcs trouble unless and until a magic caster took them out.
Kendrick yelled over his shoulder, “Aim for the joints of their armor or their heads, Will! Your staff will be of no use against their hide armor!”
Will gripped his staff tightly in his hands and charged. The temptation to shout a battle cry was great, but he bit it back. Better to surprise his enemies than warn them of his coming.
Staff flailing, he plowed into the nearest Boki and managed to bowl the beast into another one. Both orcs staggered, snarling, and got tangled up with each other. Will’s staff slammed into the first orc’s throat, a harmless-looking little move, but the creature went down, gasping. Apparently, orcs had breathing parts in roughly the same spot as humans.
The second orc stumbled back, shoving the weight of his companion off of himself. Will jumped forward, up and under the orc’s blade, and jammed the end of his staff into the side of the orc’s head. He whirled and threw up the staff, barely managing to parry the swing of a two-handed axe from another orc, presumably aimed at cleaving Will’s head in half. Luckily, he caught the blade on the metal-covered portion of his staff and it was not cleaved in half by the orcish axe.
The axe slipped off his staff and sliced the laces off his shirt but otherwise did not harm him. Will fell to the ground, rolled, and, as he somersaulted past the orc, swung hard at the beast’s ankles, connecting with the bones there with several fast blows. The orc went down, roaring in pain. Will’s staff fouled in the underbrush and he frantically yanked it free.
He rolled to his feet, planted his staff, and vaulted into yet another Boki, feetfirst. His boots connected solidly with the creature’s chest. The beast staggered back, shouting what sounded like invective in his thick accent. Holding his staff in the middle, Will swung his staff furiously, battering at the orc with both ends of the weapon. Will could not kill the beast, but mayhap he could drive it back into Kendrick’s and Eben’s swords. Before Will could accomplish that, however, the orc toppled over with one of Sha’Li’s alchemy globes broken against his back.
The lizardman girl stood only a few feet beyond the fallen creature. She nodded briefly and whirled away, seeking more targets.
Will spun around as he heard Rosana shout some incant that involved burning blood and curses. That orc dodged the spell from Rosana easily enough in the heavy brush but pitched forward seconds later with a trio of arrows sticking out of his back. He took several staggering steps and plowed into Will, knocking him over and landing heavily on top of him. His staff trapped between them, Will shoved in desperation at the orc.
The Boki grinned at Will, showing sharp, yellow teeth, blackened along their edges. He opened his mouth wide as if to bite Will’s nose off. Rosana shouted something about weakness above them, but he could not count on her to hit the broad side of a barn, let alone an orc in battle.
Will had to escape, now. Otherwise, he was in serious trouble. No sooner had he thought it than he thought he felt a slackening in the orc’s hug of death. Rosana must have managed to hit with her weakness spell. A look of confusion entered the orc’s eyes, and Will heaved for all he was worth. He put enough distance between them that he was able to jerk his knee up sharply.
The orc wore some sort of hard codpiece to protect his privates, but the awkward angle at which Will struck it seemed to drive the cup sideways, its hard rim pinching something soft and imminently pinchable. The orc squealed, jerking up and away from Will. Which was enough to free Will’s left hand. He smashed his fist into the Boki’s ear once, twice.
The orc bellowed and rolled away. Will kicked his feet up into the air, arched into a backbend, then whipped his feet down, snapping his torso upright. He slashed down and back with his staff and sparks flew as its iron tip scored across the orc’s blade. But the blow held the beast in place for the instant Will needed to wrench his dagger out of his belt and plunge it into the orc’s neck. A spurt of hot blood sprayed him.
Will looked up. One of the Boki had Rosana pinned against a tree and held a knife to her throat. Will’s impulse was to lurch toward her, but he would never reach her in time. He prayed her magic was sufficient to the task of defending herself. She commenced incanting something about disarming a weapon. He hoped it worked.
Will locked gazes with another orc who looked like the leader if the quantity of battle scars on the beast was any indication. Hopeful that his companions could take care of the rest of the orcs, Will closed on the leader.
The big orc snarled, and an answering smile curved Will’s lips. The consciousness of the other being within him surged forward, and Will let it run free within his veins. He relaxed his mental guard and gave himself over to it. He hardly recognized his own voice when it emerged from his throat, deep and rough. Shaggy. “You think you can take me? Why don’t you try, then?”
“Du’shaak!” The challenge in the orc’s voice wasn’t nearly so certain this time.
Will’s eyes widened when the alien wildness within him made him laugh … and throw the staff onto the ground almost halfway between him and the orc. He threw his body forward in a jumping, pivoting step, then flung himself backward onto his hands in an acrobat’s handspring. It was a trick he’d performed for his buddies back in Hickory Hollow a thousand times.
His right hand landed on the staff as his feet flew over his head. He landed on his feet, rebounding high into the air, executing a 180 turn midair. The handspring had the effect he’d hoped for. The Boki stared, openmouthed, at the mad youth now charging him.
Calling upon all the training his father had ever drilled into him, Will attacked the orc with every ounce of his strength and speed. He incorporated Kendrick’s advice to aim for joints and the Boki’s head. Will got in a couple of solid blows, enough to slow the beast a tiny bit. But the orc was stronger and bigger than Will and forced him back until his feet tangled in brambles and brush. He tripped. And started to go down.
Without warning, the tip of his blade poked forward through the orc’s chest. The creature toppled over, and Kendrick stood behind him, withdrawing his sword smoothly as the orc fell.
“Thanks be,” Will panted. Using his staff, he pulled himself upright and turned to face the next threat.
&nb
sp; It was over.
A circle of bloody bodies lay around the spot where Kendrick and Eben had made their stand. Cicero and Sha’Li panted side by side, a giant tree at their back, a pair of dead orcs before them. Will stepped forward to check the orc down at Rosana’s feet, but she whipped out her own dagger and brandished it.
“Don’t kill it, Rosana,” Will said wearily. “You should not kill anyone, not wearing those colors.” Not to mention it was not honorable.
A reptilian voice hissed from the far side of the fire, “Kill him, gypsy!” Eben nodded in agreement with the lizardman girl, and Will turned to Kendrick for support. As he was a noble, however minor, his opinion was the only one that ultimately mattered beyond the Heart member’s.
Kendrick shrugged. “They attacked us. I say we kill them.”
Sha’Li interrupted, “Never do they randomly strike a target. Around this camp they could have gone just as easily. Why attack us do they?”
Had the Boki attacked here for the same reason they’d attacked Hickory Hollow? Was there something, or someone, here that they wanted? What could this motley bunch possibly have that any Boki would want? Surely these orcs had no way of knowing Will carried his father’s blood in his veins.
This pack of orcs had been carrying barely more than the hides on their backs and a few supplies. Which meant this was likely a scouting party, come south out of the Forest of Thorns. Why would the orcs have scouting parties outside of their traditional territory unless they hunted something or someone specific?
Rosana shrugged. “I know not why they attack us, but that one intentionally spare me. It was my Heart colors.… Will, we cannot kill this one.”
She turned her dark, pleading gaze upon him. How could he say no to her big, sad eyes, her compassion? Her innate kindness? And yet these were the monsters who’d decimated Hickory Hollow. They deserved to die, did they not?
He turned to Kendrick. “What would we do with a Boki prisoner?”
Sha’Li snapped, “Kill him you must. Vicious foes are these Boki. Do not let the gypsy girl’s fluttering eyelashes out of common sense talk you!”
