by D. L. Kramer
Nahtan kept his place until he was sure the rest of Thorvald's procession had passed them. When the other two cloaked and hooded riders passed, a cold chill seemed to grip Nahtan and a strangely familiar scent drifted to him. It took him a moment to place the smell as the one from the central room in the Grand Cathedral when he had confronted first the Archbishop, then Tziyad. He didn't know what the fetor was a combination of, but he knew Zared gave off the same smell.
When the last church guard had passed, Nahtan turned Renato and rode to the rear of his men, watching Thorvald's retreating back as it reached the next curve in the road. Behind him, he heard Mo'ani give the orders to break formation and leave the road. A silent loathing crept into his throat and he swallowed it down. He had not thought himself capable of pure hatred before this moment.
"You can kill him another day," Brijade said, riding Essian to stand beside him. "I'll even knock him out for you first."
Nahtan gave her a glance. "Tell me how stupid it would be to go galloping after him," he muttered, forcing his grip on Renato's reins to relax some.
"Very stupid," Brijade returned. "We'll catch him," she assured him. "Arlend is going to send scouts out to find the auctions here so no more children are going to be sold." Her green eyes shifted to follow Nahtan's gaze as the last row of church guards disappeared around the next curve. "And Bear should be a safe distance away by now with Valry."
"I'll be surprised if he didn't lurk around," Nahtan returned. Turning Renato off the road, he dismounted and led the big black horse back to the picket line. Brijade followed him, tying Essian beside Renato.
"He didn't," Brijade assured him. "As much as he feels responsible to you, he knows Valry's safety takes a higher precedent."
Nahtan nodded and they turned to the camp where everyone was resuming their evening duties. Extra scouts were dispatched to watch for any of Thorvald's guards doubling back on them while the others prepared for the upcoming confrontation they knew was inevitable.
After a simple meal, Nahtan retired to his tent, not trusting any of the others to understand the rage he still felt. He especially steered clear of Lord Valin, knowing he would kill the young lord with no hesitation right now. He knew he should speak with Mallin about Thorvald, but didn't even trust himself there, either. So, he settled for sharpening his sword with slow, deliberate slides of his sharpening stone. Eventually, the camp around him quieted as those not on watch settled for the night. He heard a horse and rider leave the immediate camp shortly after and knew the Mo'ani taking first camp watch was moving to his position.
Setting his sword aside, Nahtan leaned back on his bedroll, trying to come to grips with the sudden lack of control he felt. Something inside him still burned, wanting him to let it free. He knew if he had earlier this evening, he would have taken a good number of Thorvald's men with him before he died--assuming Yenene's warning was accurate. Perhaps death would not be so bad an alternative if it meant ridding the kingdom of Thorvald and whatever influences he brought with him. Nahtan suspected it was once again Zared, using the mortals as pawns in his twisted game against Zakris, but he couldn't be certain of it. The scent from the hooded riders only reinforced that suspicion.
"If you aren't going to sleep tonight, I'm sure the others wouldn't mind you taking a watch turn."
Nahtan turned to look at Brijade's silhouette, outlined by the fire outside. She had managed to open the flap to his tent without any notice from him. Had the lantern lit by his bedroll been turned up, he would have seen her with no problem. As it was, the lantern only cast enough light to dispel the darkest shadows.
"Why aren't you settling in?" he asked her, not bothering to sit up. He felt particularly close to her tonight, finally realizing the hatred she held for the church guards and what drove her to such vicious skill with her sword. If hers was even a fifth what he felt towards Thorvald, he needed to give her more credit than he had for her self control.
"Not tired," she shrugged, coming the rest of the way into the tent and closing the flap behind her. "I thought you might want to talk." She came to sit on the ground beside his bedroll.
"Or Mo'ani thought I might want to talk," he corrected.
Brijade gave him a raised eyebrow. "If he does, he didn't mention it to me. Besides, he usually does his own talking."
"True," Nahtan nodded. He studied her for a moment in the dim light, watching as it danced over her hair. The same color as Yenene's, yet so different. Brijade's was a dull black, thick and with just enough natural curl to keep it in a constantly tangled mass. Her skin was as pale as the moon, contrasting sharply against her hair and black leather vest. No matter how much time she spent in the sun, he hadn't seen it darken even a shade.
"I want to storm that village and wipe every last church guard out of it," he finally said, his voice subdued. Something about Brijade's presence seemed to drain the erratic force from his hatred. It still burned within him, but now seemed more focused and easier to control. He found he could focus it entirely on Thorvald with no problem.
"I know the feeling," Brijade said, nodding her head. "That's how I felt when Tamnor and I were waiting for you to charge the church guards on Devayne Field." She paused to look at him. "I guess that's how I was able to fight my way through to you without too much trouble." She sighed and shook her head slowly. "If I saw a blue cloak, I didn't even stop to think about how to attack, I just did."
Nahtan didn't respond, but only nodded his head. After a moment, Brijade leaned back, using her arms to brace herself up.
"I was thinking you might want to send Gaurel and Garren on ahead to stay with the army," she said after a moment. "Gaurel's too even tempered for battle and Garren's eager enough, but just doesn't have the experience we need."
"I know," Nahtan agreed. He had wondered several times how he would face his father if anything happened to his brother. "He seems to be a natural fighter, though. It seems like any weapon we hand him he can figure out."
Brijade nodded her head in silent agreement. Neither of them would claim Garren was too young; they had each been only a few years older when they led the attacks against the Archbishop's forces. Nahtan hadn't been much older when he had earned his cloak. Brijade turned to look at him then, studying his face for a long moment. Without saying anything, she leaned over and blew out the lantern, then turned and kissed him, gently at first, then with more force.
Nahtan tried to push her away, his hands going to each of her shoulders, but something stopped him before he could. There was something about her presence, her touch, that he needed. She could offer him the release he needed, the one way to stay sane with the anger and fury that fought within him. Almost hesitantly, he moved his hands from her shoulders to her waist, then her hips, finding the laces along the sides of her breeches. He was vaguely aware of Brijade's hands unlacing her vest, then his own tunic and breeches. His tears mixed with her hair as her scent overtook the lingering remnants of the cloaked riders' and the feel of her skin against his overcame the last of the chill that had gripped him.
Nahtan awoke a few hours later, disoriented at first. It was the familiar smell of leather and oil that brought him back. Brijade still lay in his arms, her skin pale against his, even in the dark of the tent. He touched her arm tentatively, almost afraid to wake her. Part of him knew what had happened between them was wrong, but he also realized that she had quite possibly saved him from sacrificing himself to something that was not worth his life.
"I'm still awake." Her voice was quiet, but fully alert as he touched her arm. She turned to look at him, her green eyes hidden in the shadows. "I don't sleep very well at night, that's why I usually volunteer to take the late watch."
"Thank you," Nahtan told her simply. "But, this was--" he sighed and shook his head.
"Bear knows he's not the only one," Brijade told him, knowing what he was referring to. "But he never asks any questions about the others."
"He's still my best friend, Brijade," Nahtan told her, s
itting up. He didn't realize doing so pulled the heavy wool blanket down nearly to Brijade's waist. He couldn't help but feel he'd betrayed Bear's trust somehow. He didn't bother turning when Brijade sat up beside him, running her hand up his back, her fingers lingering in the hair over his neck. Even now, the feel of her skin against his was almost too much to resist.
"He won't even ask," Brijade assured him. "I don't think he'd mind even if he did know."
"I know, though," he said, finally looking at her. "He sacrificed his place at my side to protect my daughter, and I pay him back with--this," he motioned to the bedroll.
Brijade smiled and Nahtan could barely make out the ghost of it in the faint moonlight that seeped through the tent canvas. "No," she corrected, her voice barely a whisper as she leaned forward to kiss the back of his shoulder. "I came to you. There is a difference, whether you want to acknowledge one or not."
Nahtan bowed his head, trying to resist her, but afraid he was losing. He knew Bear was aware of Brijade's reputation and actions. Both were well known among the Takis Mo'ani and the rumors had quickly spread through the other armies. Nahtan had even overheard Bear teasing her about it several times. Bear had also commented to him more than once that he was surprised Nahtan's relationship with Brijade had always been platonic.
Until now, Nahtan reminded himself. No matter how badly he felt though, he couldn't deny that Brijade was the closest thing he had to a kindred soul in this world. She knew and understood him better than anyone else--even better than Rena had. He closed his eyes as she kissed his shoulder again, then twirled a lock of hair around her fingers.
"It's gotten long since we left Herridon," she noted absently. Where it had been long enough to cover his collar before, it was now a couple of inches below it.
"I never bothered to cut it," he returned. Part of him wished she'd stop, but he also knew she wouldn't, even if he asked her to. She would stay with him for as long as she thought he needed her. "I don't know how I'll face Bear when I see him again," Nahtan said after a moment.
Brijade kissed his shoulder again, then pulled her knees under her and leaned forward to kiss his neck gently. "The same way you face him every day," she told him. She pulled away to look at him, though Nahtan doubted she could see more than the same shadows he could. "There is no reason to feel guilty," she told him, her tone even and sincere. "You didn't betray anything or anyone. Rena has been dead and gone for almost six years now, and neither Bear nor I have had any interest in marrying."
"I betrayed his trust," Nahtan responded, his own voice even.
Brijade chuckled. "How can you betray that?" she asked him. "He's told me himself it was just a matter of time until we ended up here like this. His only problem with it was he was afraid I'd choose you over him."
Nahtan turned his gaze back to the silhouette of her face. "And will you?" he asked her. He still felt guilty, but her words were easing the harshest edge to it. He knew honesty was important to both Bear and Brijade, and if she was telling him Bear had said these things, then he had little doubt his friend truly felt that way.
When Brijade answered this time, he knew she was smiling. "Are you kidding?" she asked him. "I've got you both now, I'm not choosing sides just yet." Before Nahtan could comment, she leaned forward and kissed him again, pulling away after several seconds. Her fingers moved from his hair to the healing cut on his shoulder. Leaning forward, she kissed it gently. The cut still pained deep inside from time to time and the last time Yenene checked it, she had seemed concerned the wound was showing no sign of healing. "The swamprat?" Brijade asked, looking back at him, her fingers tracing the line of the cut.
Nahtan nodded his head. "Next time I get to leave him with one."
"Make sure his is bigger," Brijade advised him. "Or let me do it." She traced the line of the cut again. "That's about the width of my sword," she noted almost absently.
Nahtan only sighed, then took her hand and kissed her fingers. "The next clash is going to end it," he told her. "Once and for all."
"What if he kills you?" Brijade asked.
"He won't," Nahtan assured her. "I don't know what he's trying to prove or to whom, but killing me won't accomplish anything for him."
"I wish I could be so trusting," she told him.
Nahtan smiled faintly. "You want me to trust you about Bear," he said. "So you'll have to trust me about Rial."
"Fair enough," Brijade conceded with a nod of her head. She reached over and pulled her vest and breeches to her. "But I probably should go so you don't have to worry about how to face the rest of them in the morning," she motioned to the silent camp outside the tent with her head.
"Probably a good idea," Nahtan agreed. If Bear could accept this like Brijade claimed, then Nahtan wouldn't worry about it. He didn't think the others with him now would be quite so understanding, however.
Twenty Two - "We shouldn't talk here"
Nahtan broke camp the next morning. Sending the Mo'ani out to scout the area around Edgewind, Nahtan took the lead on the road as everyone else fanned out behind him. Brijade rode just behind him and to his right, and had treated him no differently this morning than any other morning. He found their new roles easy to assume and if anything, the previous night had only strengthened his friendship with her. He found his mood was no longer as erratic, and while he still felt incredible anger, it was more focused now and easier for him to control.
"I don't suppose you figured out where Thorvald is supposed to be staying while he's here," Nahtan asked Gaurel. "Or how long he'll be here."
Gaurel shook his head, giving the falcon on his saddle another strip of meat. The bird gripped it with one foot, tearing off smaller bits to eat. "There aren't many places big enough for his entire group," the boy answered, stroking the falcon's back gently. "The church guards' barracks are pretty run down and half of it looks too unstable to even walk through, so I don't think they're all staying there."
"Someone mentioned a temple," Garren added. "But we never found it."
Nahtan nodded his head, remembering Michak had told him Jensina had a temple there. Surely the goddess would have protected her temple, though, rather than let it be defiled by Thorvald and his group.
"No large inns?" he asked them.
"Maybe if they broke up into three or four smaller groups," Gaurel answered. "But no place big enough for all of them."
"What about the people?" Calan asked from his position riding behind Gaurel. "It's not uncommon for citizens to rent out places to sleep in their homes."
Gaurel chuckled. "You haven't seen their homes," he said, turning his head back to look at Calan. "They're barely big enough for the ones who live there. And I doubt Captain Thorvald is given to sleeping on the floor."
"I tend to forget not everyplace is like Herridon," Calan mentioned, sighing.
"When we get there, I want everyone to spread out and see if we can find where they're staying," Nahtan ordered, loud enough for everyone to hear. "I want to know where Thorvald is, as well as those three cloaked riders." He looked over to Mallin. "See if you can feel out the church guards who were with him," he told the man. "The guards at the barracks may be willing to talk to you about them." Nahtan had debated trying to scout with the falcon again, but the bird was so large, there was no way it wouldn't be spotted, and he wasn't about to risk some church guard trying to take it as a trophy.
Mallin nodded his head and rested one hand on the blue cloak laying across the front of his saddle.
Nahtan turned to consider his other friends. "Calan, see if you can find any merchants willing to talk to you," he continued. "Mo'ani and Adie check the taverns." Nahtan next considered the two young men riding beside him. Gaurel still carried no weapon, and Garren's training hadn't progressed to the point where Nahtan wanted him confronting anyone alone. "Tosia go with them and see if you can't find where their horses are stabled."
"The mind of thy enemy's horse hath been closed to me," Tosia said. "I fear 'tis Zared's hand that
kept me from touching him and wresting his mind from Thorvald's loyalty."
Nahtan nodded, not surprised. "The other horses were standard animals, though," he told her. "You may be able to find one of them."
Tosia nodded her head a single time in answer. "Rial, Yenene and Brijade, come with me. We're going to see if we can find any temples." Nahtan pretended not to notice the look Brijade gave Rial, or his obvious unspoken return of her challenge.
"Now what do you want to do about the guards at the gate?" Adie asked Nahtan. "It would probably draw too much attention to kill them."
Nahtan nodded his head. There had been two guards when Gaurel and Garren came to the village, but Nahtan was betting Thorvald placed more there to delay him at the very least.
"How loyal did you say those guards seemed?" Nahtan asked Garren.
"Not very," Garren answered. "They seemed more interested in how much we could pay them."
"What if he put some of his personal guard there at the gate?" Brijade asked. "You can damn well bet if I knew someone was coming to storm Takis Hold, I wouldn't have second rate soldiers manning the gates."
Nahtan nodded, his mind working through possible scenarios. Thorvald obviously felt that they would not confront each other until some specified time or place, or he wouldn't have backed down and surrendered the road the day before. The question now was if Thorvald would stay out of his way until that time, or put as much in Nahtan's way as he could to delay him. He turned to Yenene.
"Ask Jensina," he said.
"She may not tell me," Yenene returned, shaking her head slightly, but closing her eyes and clutching the stone tied around her neck. Nahtan knew there was no connection between Kutci and Jensina, since Kutci was one of his fellow abandoned spirits, but for some reason Yenene used the stone almost as a channel for speaking with her goddess when not in a temple or near an altar. "One of us is to speak with the guards," Yenene said after a moment, her voice oddly flat. "But whether we enter the village or not depends on who speaks." She was silent for a moment longer, then her eyes fluttered open.
