by Jon Sprunk
Caim caught up to them on a narrow shelf of ground that wound around the hill toward its northern face. Keegan hugged the sheer face of bare stone and kept as far as possible from the hundred-foot drop on the other side. The path was short and ended at the mouth of a small cave. Keegan ducked inside without hesitation, and Liana followed.
Caim stood at the entrance for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the new level of darkness. With the sharp clack of steel against stone, a tiny spark burst into view. On the second strike, the spark caught and light blossomed. The cave extended about fifteen feet or so into the hillside. The roof was right above his head. Although not cozy, it was, he had to admit, an excellent hiding place, provided no one stumbled upon them. He didn’t want to think about trying to fight his way out of here.
While Liana joined her brother at the back of the cave to tend the fire, Caim sat down and stretched out his legs. A knotted muscle throbbed in his thigh, and another one higher up in his hip, but it was his arm that bothered him the most. It itched like he had a hornet buried under the skin. He rolled back his sleeve and pulled back the bandage, and hissed as fresh air touched the wound. The skin around the bite punctures was swollen and purple. Rivulets of yellow pus ran from the holes as he prodded the site. He started to roll down his sleeve, but Liana stopped him.
“Let me see.”
“It’s fine.”
“Just give me a look.”
He sat back and let her have his arm. With a light touch, she probed the wound, causing more pus to ooze.
“Where did you get these?”
“A bear.”
She reached behind her back. “Getting bit by a bear is supposed to be good luck.”
“And how many times have you been bit-ouch!”
While he was talking, she had produced a small knife-very sharp-and ran its blade lengthwise across the holes. He started to grab for her, but she pointed the knife at his face. Despite the grime and the sweat, she was beautiful.
“Don’t be a child. I have to get the bad humors out or they’ll spread to other parts of your body, and then we’ll have to cut off your arm.”
Caim leaned back against the wall and tried to ignore the fiery jolts shooting up his arm. The smell was worse than the pain.
“So why have you come north?” Liana asked.
“I needed a fresh start. There was some trouble back home.”
“So you chose Eregoth? In winter?”
“I know. I-” He almost said he had forgotten how cold it got up here, but stopped himself. “I may have made a mistake.”
“A woman,” Keegan said.
Caim looked over. “What?”
“The trouble,” he said. “It was over a woman, right?”
Liana pursed her lips. “No, I’m thinking maybe the woman was the trouble.”
Caim shook his head at their guesses, and winced when Liana slapped his leg.
“I’m right, aren’t I?
“If we’re asking questions, I notice you and your father live pretty far out of the way.”
“Is that a question?”
“Isn’t it dangerous out here?”
Liana bent down over his arm. “We used to live on the steppe. Papa is loreman of the clans. He keeps our stories and songs, and teaches the young. It seemed like he was always on his way to or coming back from someplace new. Sometimes we’d go with him. When mother died, we moved out to the hills.”
Keegan kicked a stone into the fire. “That’s enough, Li. He don’t need to know our whole history.”
“All right,” Caim said. “Then tell me what happened back there. You can start at the point where your friends kidnapped me. That was your doing, right?”
“Ramon gave the order.”
“Ramon’s the big guy with the white cape, right? He’s your leader?”
When Keegan shrugged, Liana huffed at him.
“Is that why he wasn’t at Aldercairn? He leads the Gilbaerns now?”
“Thane Sigmer died in his sleep. Ramon was chosen the next day.”
Liana finished rubbing Caim’s arm and rooted through his satchel. He helped by fishing out a semi-clean shirt, which she ripped into long strips.
“You spoke of problems in Liovard,” Caim said. “Starting with the coming of this duke. I take it you and your friends don’t much like him.”
Keegan pulled a small bundle wrapped in cloth from his pocket. Inside was a wedge of cheese. He broke off a piece and tossed it to Liana; she offered a piece to Caim, but he shook his head.
“He’s taken everything short of our lives,” the youth said. “And he’ll come for those soon enough. The Eviskines were nothing more than horse thieves until a couple years ago. Then the duke’s father died, and Erric took over the clan. The next summer they came down and took the city. A moon ago, a council of thanes was called to make a plan. Eviskine killed them all.”
Caim flexed his wrist. Liana’s new binding was better than he could have done. “But you escaped?”
Keegan finished his cheese and brushed off his hands. “Caedman-our captain-asked me to go, so I went.”
“Caedman Du’Ormik was a good man,” Liana said. “Now that he’s gone
…”
“He’s not gone.”
She turned to her brother. “But you said everyone at the peace-meet was killed.”
“Aemon and Dray found me at Orso’s. They heard from Vaner that Caedman was taken alive. The duke is keeping him at the prison.”
“Does Ramon know that?”
Keegan shrugged. “Probably. I never got the chance to ask him.”
Listening to them and trying to get a sense of this land which had once been his home, there was something else Caim wanted to know, but he wasn’t sure how to ask it without revealing too much about himself. But who else is going to tell me?
“Who was the warrior in black?”
“The Beast.” Keegan tossed another stick in the fire. “If you want to know about that one, you should first start with the darghul. She was at Aldercairn, too.”
“You never told me she was there,” Liana said. “Keegan, we have to tell Papa.”
Her brother shook his head. “We can’t involve him, Li.”
“But, Keegan-”
Caim was ready to knock their heads together until he got a straight answer. “What’s a darghul?”
Liana glared at Keegan as she answered. “An evil spirit.”
“What? Like a demon?”
Keegan pulled his cloak up around his shoulders. “She looked like the queen of the damned in the flesh. And her eyes. When she looks at you, it’s like seeing your own death.”
Caim wasn’t sure he believed any of this, but he asked, “And the giant? This Beast.”
“He and the Northmen came with the witch. None can stand before them.”
“Caim did,” Liana said.
Keegan scowled at her over the flames. Then he pulled his hood up over his head.
“I’m tired.”
With a shake of her head, Liana held out a hand to Caim.
“Give me your coat.”
“Hmm?” He realized she wore only the smock under her cloak. “Oh, here.”
He pulled off the leather jacket, careful not to jar the bandages around his arm, and made to settle the garment around her shoulders. Instead, she retrieved a small sewing kit from a pocket and set to mending the tears in his sleeve.
Caim scratched his thigh. “One of the men at the clearing said something odd before the Northmen arrived. What is the Hunt?”
“It’s an old legend. Pa told it to us often when we were little. It gave Keegan nightmares.”
There was a grunt from the other side of the fire, but Liana continued.
“Every winter, during the longest nights, a pack of wolves comes down from the mountains to hunt, led by their master. A man with skin like coal. Anyone caught out of doors must run until daybreak or be torn to pieces.”
Caim thought of the barbarians with their
wolf-pelt headdresses and the giant in black armor. “The Master of the Hunt.”
Gentle snores echoed from the back of the cave as Liana moved closer to the fire. Caim retrieved a whetstone from his satchel and set to work on his blades. The scrape of the steel over stone was like a draught of cool wine, releasing the tension in his shoulders and neck. Its rhythm lulled him into a peaceful trance where nothing existed except him and the blades and the play of the shadows across the ceiling. Sleep would be a long time coming, but he had gone without its succor on jobs before. He had everything he needed right here.
Stone and steel and shadow.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
C aim winced as frigid needles penetrated the pores of his face. Holding his breath, he rubbed the snow over his forehead, across his cheeks, and-gently-around his sore ear. His hands came away with flakes of scabbing, but no fresh blood. Satisfied, he rubbed his hands in the snow and picked up the meal cake that was his breakfast.
He had forgotten how peaceful the forest could be. Rising between the snowy hilltops, the sun lit up the valley below in shades of gold and orange. Fingers of white mist wended through the carpet of trees. Birds twittered, and small creatures scampered through the underbrush. They’d hiked farther last night than he realized, at least four or five miles, much of it over rough terrain. To the north, the chain of peaks extended as far as he could see. Beyond them lay the Great Forest, running all the way to the Drakstag Mountains. When Caim was a boy, Kas had told him stories about how he and Caim’s father had journeyed over those mountains and into the forbidding wastelands beyond. A fool’s crusade, he’d called it. Among the memories of Caim’s childhood, that one sparkled like a polished jewel.
He looked down at the open pages of Vassili’s journal in his hand, but put it away after reading the same paragraph three times. He couldn’t concentrate. His thoughts kept running to last night and the fight at the clearing, the warrior in black armor. Keegan called him the Beast. What did that mean?
He didn’t know, and he had no clue what to do next. At least Keegan hadn’t tried to stick a knife in him while he slept. That had to count for something. But he and his sister would probably be better off without him. Right up until they run into another band of wildmen .
Leather soles scraped across the ground behind him as Keegan emerged from the cave. Tugging on the cuffs of his coat sleeves, the youth looked scruffier than last night. Caim ran a hand across his whiskered chin and thought the same could probably be said about him. He put away the journal.
“I need to get to Morrowglen. I’ll pay whatever you think is fair.”
Keegan came up beside him and kicked a stone down the loose talus. “I think Ramon still has your money.”
Caim didn’t mention the stash of coins tucked in a false pocket the woodsmen hadn’t found.
“Anyway,” the youth said. “We can take you as far as Liovard. After that, you’re on your own.”
It was as good a deal as Caim expected to get. “Fair enough.”
“I figure the duke’s men have given up by now, but we’ll head north for a few miles anyway before we angle east. Just to be sure.”
Keegan turned back to the cave. “Come on, Li! We’re freezing our asses off!”
She came out and gave Caim a quick look before following her brother down the narrow shelf. Caim picked up his bundles and went after them. Liana walked with an easy stride. Her face looked freshly scrubbed, and her hair was tied up in a handkerchief.
Caim patted the stitched sleeve of his jacket. His arm was still a little sore, but not as bad as last night. “Thank you. Good as new.”
“You get into a lot of fights.”
It wasn’t a question, so he didn’t answer. She looked back, and her gaze went to his cheek.
“What did that? It doesn’t look like another bear bite.”
Caim touched his cheek and remembered the scar, and the black knife that had caused it. “A fight. Long time ago.”
“I hope you won.”
“I’m still breathing.”
“So, you have trouble with women.” She smiled at him. “And a lot of scars. Are they related?”
“Some of them.”
“What did you do back in the south? Let me guess. You weren’t a shoemaker.”
“No,” he answered. “I… cleaned up messes.”
She laughed out loud. “What? You were a housemaid?”
Keegan looked back over his shoulder. “He’s a hired sword, Liana. He kills people for money.”
She looked at Caim, all humor gone from her face. Caim waited. This had happened so many times before it was almost second nature to him. He met someone who seemed to enjoy his company. Then they found out what he did for a living, and their attitude changed. Josey had been one of the few to accept him for what he was, warts and all, and it hadn’t been easy with her, either.
Liana hurried to catch up to her brother. Caim filled his lungs with cool forest air and let it out. It didn’t matter what they thought of him. Soon he would be done with them, and they could go back to their lives.
Keegan led them down into a saddle between the hills. Though steep in places, the descent wasn’t difficult. Keegan and Liana exchanged occasional whispers, but Caim didn’t pay much attention until their tones began to rise. Before long, their conversation erupted into a hushed quarrel. He couldn’t make out what they were saying except for his name, Liovard, and something about a castle. After a time, the siblings let off their arguing and focused on the hike. The forest thinned as they traveled north, and they made good time down through the narrow valley. They reached its lowest point just after midday and stopped in the shade between two tall pine trees to eat. Lunch consisted of whatever they could pool from their collective stashes, which wasn’t much. Caim provided a pair of hardtack rolls and his last strip of jerky. Liana collected water and a double handful of wild strawberries. Keegan lay on his back, looking up at the sky.
When he had swallowed his last bite, Caim asked, “How far is Liovard?”
Keegan didn’t look at him.
Liana glanced between them. “Half a day’s walk. Once we get clear of the woods, you should be able to see its walls.”
When Caim stood up there was barely a hitch in his step. He flexed his injured forearm and felt a twinge. It still hurt, worse than before. When they reached the city, he would look for a cut-man.
Liana also got to her feet, but Keegan was slow to move. Yet once he was up the young man set a brisk pace, this time angling to the northeast. As Keegan marched out ahead, Caim found himself walking beside Liana again.
“I’m sorry about back there,” she said. “I didn’t mean to pry into your life. It’s none of my affair what you do. You saved my brother and me. He might be too thick-headed to thank you, but I’m not.”
“It’s all right.” A thought occurred to him. “Are there settlements out this far?”
“A few timber camps. Not much else.”
“No villages?”
A shadow crossed her face as she dipped her chin toward her chest. “Not anymore. There’s been a lot of fighting around these parts. Pa says it’s spread all across the country. Most people have left, or were driven away. That’s why Keegan joined with-”
“Shut up, Li,” Keegan said from ahead of them.
Liana bent closer to Caim. “He doesn’t like anyone talking about it, but most of the menfolk have gone. Those who don’t join the duke’s army usually find themselves on the end of a rope sooner or later.”
Caim recalled the fight at the clearing. He’d assumed the soldiers were after him, but if they had come for the woodsmen… then he could just walk away. There was nothing holding him here. Except for the Beast.
“Did I hear something about a castle?” Caim asked. “Is that where Ramon’s men hole up?”
Liana started to nod until Keegan stopped and spun around.
“Gods be damned, Li! We don’t even know anything about him. He could be-”
“A spy,” Caim finished for him. “I know, but suppose I’m not. Suppose I’m exactly what I told your father, a traveler trying to find his home.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re a stranger. We don’t know you and we don’t trust you.”
Keegan glared at his sister before resuming the march. She jogged to catch up to him. Watching them, Caim’s estimation of Keegan rose. The boy was young and largely ignorant of the world outside these parts, but he was tougher than he looked. If he ever got the chance to grow up, he might make a name for himself, but Caim didn’t think the chances of that were very good.
Of course, the same could have been said about him once.
The sentries outside the prison house snapped to attention as Sybelle stepped out of the shadow gate. The sky was darkening into twilight as the solar disk slid beneath the horizon. This was her favorite time of the day, when the light gave way to the inevitable dark.
Sinking deeper into the folds of her snow leopard coat, she swept past the guards and through the iron gates of the prison. It was a massive structure that resembled nothing so much as a colossal stone block studded with small windows. The chamber inside the gates resembled a fortress barbican more than a foyer. This seemed to be the standard form in old Nimean construction. Whatever it lacked in aesthetic appeal, she admired its efficiency. A long corridor with rows of doors extended beyond the entrance. One of the nearest doors opened as she entered, and a uniformed man with slick, black hair exited. He rushed forward to greet her.
“Lady Sybelle, it is my personal honor to receive you. I am Chief Warden Lormew.”
His tone was unctuous to the point of being disgusting, but there was something about the man that intrigued her. Had she the time, she might have been tempted to take him back to whatever little cell he called home in this foul-smelling pit. She offered her left hand, which he took and kissed.
