Warlord's Wager

by Gwynn White

  Tao shrugged. “Whatever you say. We will need something to hide the bait in, or he will eat and run. We have to keep him interested.”

  “I saw a tin drum behind the chicken coop. Come, look.” Lynx led Tao around the back of the rickety building housing their six chickens and one rooster.

  Tao kicked the tin drum over so they could get a better look at it. It set the poultry cackling, drowning out any chance of conversation. Lynx studied the drum. Someone, probably their predecessor, had already sawed a rough hole into the side of it.

  “Looks like our trapper friends weren’t averse to baiting the odd bear, either,” Tao shouted over the rooster. He picked up the drum, dislodged a few spiders, and carried it around to the front of the cottage.

  Lynx left him with it. She opened their wooden front door and stepped into a small entrance. It had a door leading to a single room that served as a kitchen, lounge, and dining room. Two small bedrooms opened off this central area. The only other room, a small larder leading down to a root cellar, abutted on the kitchen section. Roughly furnished with a couple of chairs and a table, made from wood cut from the forest, it was not the most comfortable home.

  Lynx picked up a wooden bowl and stepped into the larder. A barrel of molasses stood in one corner. She ladled out two cups of sticky black sweetness and then looked at her shelves for other “treats.”

  Tao had mentioned that the dancing bears at the palace were fed a steady diet of fat, oats, meat, and vegetables. She tossed in a handful of oats and finally kneaded some lard into the mix. Next, she flaked the remains of the wizened fish into it. If the pungent smell didn’t attract the bear, then nothing would. She covered the bowl with a piece of leather and left it in the larder, closing the door behind her.

  * * *

  The next day, Lynx and Tao were up well before the sun. Tao fetched their bowl of bait while Lynx checked their bows and filled their quivers with arrows. Steel tipped, she had already instructed Tao that they were to recycle them because, once lost, the metal arrows were irreplaceable. Stone arrow heads would not be nearly as effective.

  “You sure about this?” Tao asked, tossing his bow and quiver over his shoulder.

  “As I’m standing here. A stinky brew of bear food, a rope, some patience, and some sharpshooting, and we’ll have our bear.”

  “I wish I shared your confidence.”

  Lynx tucked her bow and quiver over her shoulder and looped the ropes around her waist. By the light of the two moons, she carried the bowl of bait, while Tao hefted the tin drum. They walked through the silent forest until they reached a well-used animal trail leading to a stream near the bear’s den. The tree trunks bore ample evidence of bear’s claws.

  Lynx tested the wind direction. It was gusting in the direction of the den. Hopefully, the smell would soon rouse him to sample their offering.

  “We must move quickly.” Tao headed to the closest tree.

  Lynx followed. “What are these?” she whispered, patting the trunk.

  “Larch,” Tao whispered back. “Same family as the ones with the prickly needles you were talking about. They’re as easy to climb as falling off a log.”

  “With a rope,” Lynx added, looking at the trunk soaring twenty feet into the sky before reaching the first branch. She unraveled the ropes and handed them to Tao. “I’ll bait the barrel while you sort out the rappelling gear.”

  “Rappelling? That happens when we come down.” Tao’s eyes twinkled in the moonlight, and a smile skirted his mouth. Despite his misgivings, he seemed to be enjoying himself.

  Lynx grinned at him. “Anything to make you feel useful.” She patted him on the shoulder and scampered away before he could react. Carefully, she scraped the bear snack out of the bowl and smeared it on the inside of the drum, just beyond the lip of the hole.

  Job done, she allowed Tao to tie one end of the rope, dangling over a branch, to her belt.

  “See the other end?” Tao asked, tugging on the loose hanging line. “You use that to pull yourself up and to control your climb.”

  “You better show me.”

  Tao nodded and walked over to his tree, opposite hers. He grabbed his loose rope and, working it through his hands, shimmied up the trunk to a bare branch halfway up the tree.

  “Go,” he called softly to her.

  Lynx grabbed her rope and heaved herself up. Once in the tree, a huge smile split her face. Apart from the few stolen moments with Axel, this was the most fun she’d had since leaving Norin. Ensconced on their branches, she and Tao nocked their bows and settled down to wait.

  And wait.

  The sun crept up over the tree tops with no sign of the bear.

  A few long hours later, the sun was high in the sky, and still no bear.

  Lynx shifted yet again to get comfortable—an impossible task with twigs, knots, and gnarls poking into her back. Her legs and buttocks had long since gone to sleep. Concern that the bear would never come and that she’d wasted all that good food for nothing was beginning to settle in.

  A branch on the ground snapped. Her head shot up at the same time as Tao’s. With a better view down the track than her, Tao leaned out for a look. He nodded at her and grinned.

  A moment later, a brown bear ambled into view.

  Lynx held her breath. A magnificent creature, it grieved her to have to harm him, but this was about survival—hers, Tao’s, and Talon’s, her little chickpea growing inside her. The bear stopped, sniffed the ground and the air, and then slowly made its way to the barrel.

  Lynx readied her bow, seeing Tao do the same in her peripheral vision. The skull would probably be difficult to penetrate. If she wanted a clean shot in the brain, she would have to let fly her arrow before the bear even reached the barrel.

  Quiver steadied against her jaw, she aimed for the bear’s open mouth and pulled her finger back. The arrow twanged forward.

  She had a second arrow nocked before the first disappeared down the bear’s throat. She let that arrow fly, too, and followed it up with a third, then a fourth, all aimed at its mouth and eyes.

  The bear dropped next to the trap. Motionless, it had to be dead.

  “Winds,” Lynx whispered, “please take its spirit. Forgive me for harming so magnificent a creature.”

  Tao gaped at her. “You could at least have let me get a shot in.”

  “When did I say you couldn’t?”

  Tao shook his head and turned back to look at the bear.

  “How long do we wait to make sure it’s dead?”

  “Let’s give it another half hour, at least,” Tao said. “Although I doubt even he could survive that onslaught. How did you know to shoot it in the mouth?”

  “I’m a raider. Deduction made from years of experience.”

  Tao turned serious blue eyes on her. “Lynx, for the first time since coming here, I feel confident that we can actually survive this.”

  Lynx grinned at him. “I hope you’re as good with that plow as I am with a bow.”

  Tao winced. “I’ve never grown anything in my life.”

  Chapter 28

  Tired of pretending he had any chance of sleeping, Lukan tossed off his quilt and swung out of bed.

  Kestrel stirred. “What time is it?” she mumbled.

  “Go back to sleep.” Lukan walked to the window and parted the heavy velvet curtain.

  Both moons hung low in the sky. If he left now, he could be at the cottage in the forest before lunchtime. With the shorter days, that would give him a couple of hours with Lynx and Tao.

  He would still have to travel home in the dark, but his horse was used to that. He couldn’t dare risk taking a steam carriage for fear of creating a path to the cottage. It was bad enough that Morass and Felix had driven there a few times to prepare the place for Lynx and Tao.

  Kestrel sat up, rubbed her eyes, and stared out the window. “It’s the middle of the night. Why are you up?”

  “Early morning, actually. And I told you to go back to sleep.
” Lukan had no intention of sharing his plans for the day with Lynx’s sister. He pulled off his pajama top and tossed it into a heap in the corner of the room.

  Conscious of Kestrel’s eyes devouring him, he sauntered into his dressing room to dress for the trip. It still gave him pleasure to imagine that, with Kestrel’s blond hair and blue eyes, she was Lynx he was making love to. It was an illusion, one he knew could not last, but while she still fed that need in him, he would keep her as his mistress.

  Kestrel joined him, leaning on the doorframe. “Lukan, you can’t possibly have a meeting now. Please tell me where you’re going.”

  “I do not have to explain myself to you. I said go back to bed. Now go.”

  Tears glistened in Kestrel’s eyes, but she obeyed. Lukan frowned. The girl was nothing like Lynx. Eager to be gone from her, he rang for a servant.

  Moments later, an equerry, a middle-aged high-born, appeared at his door so quickly that he must have been awake all night awaiting Lukan’s call.

  Aware of Kestrel lying too still in the bed, Lukan said softly, “Send word to the stable to prepare my charger. My groom knows what is required.” He turned away to dress.

  Instead of leaving, the high-born ventured, “A bodyguard, sire? Must I alert them, too, that Your Majesty is going riding?”

  Lukan started. This was the first time he’d left the palace since his coronation, and it hadn’t crossed his mind that, as emperor, he would be expected to take a contingent of guardsmen. Impossible, given where he was going.

  He fixed the man with cold dark eyes. “That will not be necessary.”

  A startled look quickly bowed away, and then the equerry left. Kestrel wriggled under the quilt, a sign that she, too, questioned that instruction. Felix and the rest of the High Council would have plenty to say about the breach in protocol, but Lukan didn’t care. What was the point of being emperor if he couldn’t do what he wanted when he wanted?

  His horse waited at the mounting block, saddled and eager for the ride. The groom showed no surprise at seeing his liege so early or at the bulging saddlebags Lukan had commanded his horse carry. Heart pounding in time with his horse’s galloping hooves, he made his way down the path toward Ravine Gate.

  There were dozens of paths leading to different parts of the forest, stretching thousands of miles along the palace’s flank. Ravine Gate was the best for getting to Lynx and Tao’s cottage. Aptly named, it opened onto a steep gorge that made for difficult riding. People going into the forest in pursuit of leisure or hunting generally avoided it.

  The guardsmen manning the drawbridge over the wolf moat sprung to attention. They bowed low before creaking open the winch that lowered the bridge across the moat.

  “You will tell no one of my passing,” Lukan instructed, knowing the jasper next to the man’s eye would guarantee obedience.

  Another series of bows, and Lukan was beyond the palace grounds. Smiling like a child, he set a course for Lynx. The terrain would be challenging, but his horse had been bred for endurance and sure-footedness. They would soon cover the ground.

  Even so, it was lunchtime when he arrived at the cottage.

  It was deserted.

  Surprised, he tethered his horse and headed to the front door. He was about to swing it open when he caught the sound of laughter coming from the forest.

  “I told you, you have to let the pressure in the boiler build, or we’re going nowhere.” Tao’s voice.

  Laughter from Lynx. “That’s why I told you to drive.”

  “What? And miss the opportunity of hoodwinking you into sharing farming chores! And anyway, I thought you’d like driving the plow. You’re an adventurous type.”

  “Tao, I’ll show you adventure. Unless you want me to shoot you, you will get in and drive this stupid thing.”

  More laughter from both of them.

  Lukan beat his jealousy down with an iron will.

  A steam whistle squealed. What they were plowing in the forest, Lukan couldn’t begin to imagine. He set off toward the noise.

  A flash of movement in the trees, and Tao broke cover. Face almost healed from its beating, Tao sat tall and proud in the seat of the little plow Lukan had insisted Felix deliver to the cottage. But instead of turning the forest sod, the machine dragged a—Lukan’s mouth gaped.

  A bear? Not possible!

  But a bear it was. Throat cut, it lay on a litter made of branches lashed together with rope, tied to the back of the vehicle.

  Like a stalking cat, Lynx followed behind.

  Lukan’s heart missed a beat.

  Even in a tatty black dress and muddy boots, with some unknown raptor’s feather shoved in her wild hair, Lynx was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Her bow and quiver jogged against her gently swaying hips.

  Lukan swallowed down a mix of fear and lust.

  How was it possible that the two of them, with no help, no dogs, no horses, had killed a bear? That little plow would have been no help with bringing down the agile animal. And how could he have ever thought he could control them?

  This is Lynx’s doing. Tao would never have taken on a hunt this big.

  As dangerous as that made her, he craved Lynx even more. Sleeping with her sister was a poor substitute. Like drinking water when one longed for wine.

  “Well, that’s not a sight you see every day,” he said with a smile by way of a greeting.

  Tao slammed on the brakes, and the plow juddered to a stop. His laughter morphed into a furious scowl. “What are you doing here?”

  Lynx darted next to Tao. She had already nocked an arrow. Her icy blue eyes fixed on him down the shaft.

  Lukan’s fear turned instantly into terror. He took a hasty step back, as if that would make any difference to the arrow’s flight.

  “You . . . you can’t kill me. If I don’t return today, people will come looking. Felix. Morass. They know I’m here.” Lukan’s lie made no notable impression on Lynx.

  “Why are you here?” Tao asked again. He hopped down to join Lynx.

  “You’re my brother. Lynx is my wife. Why shouldn’t I come?”

  Tao and Lynx looked at each other with open incredulity. Then Lynx aimed her arrow again.

  “Tao, Lynx, I don’t want to fight with you.” Lukan waved a hand around. “This wasn’t how I saw things going. With you both here.”

  “Well, it’s the way things ended,” Tao said bluntly. “Remove our ice crystals, or get off our land.”

  Lukan bristled. “This isn’t your land. It’s mine. I’m emperor. And you could be dead right now, but I chose to show you mercy.” He didn’t need to see their fury to regret that stupid comment. He added, “And I can’t take them out. If anyone tries that, the devices will kill you.”

  “Pity I can’t kill him where he stands,” Lynx said to Tao. But she dropped her bow to her side.

  Lukan’s comment about Felix and Morass must have finally made an impression.

  “Come, Tao,” she added. “We have a bear to skin.”

  Tao hesitated for a moment and then hopped back up onto the plow. Lynx jumped up next to him. Tao released the start lever, and the small engine chugged past Lukan as if he were invisible.

  It was heartbreaking.

  Lukan steeled himself against his pain and followed them.

  Still ignoring him, Lynx disappeared into the barn. Lukan opened his mouth to speak to Tao, but his brother busied himself so studiously with his hunting knife that the words froze in Lukan’s throat. Lukan had never seen the knife before and guessed it had belonged to one of old trappers who used to live here.

  Until Morass changed all that.

  Guilt nibbled at Lukan’s conscience, but he’d do it again if placed in the same circumstances. Keeping Tao and Lynx alive and safe was more important than the lives of some old man and his son.

  Lynx returned carrying a canvas tarp, which she spread on the ground. Then she and Tao started heaving the bear off the litter and onto the covering. Tough as she was
, Lynx was a lightweight, and Tao did the bulk of the work. Lukan stepped forward to help, but Tao closed the gap between him and Lynx, cutting him off.

  Helpless and unwanted, Lukan watched from the sidelines.

  The bear tumbled onto its back on the canvas.

  “Never skinned a bear before,” Tao said to Lynx, tossing the hunting knife from one hand to the other. He smiled at her. “Yet another job performed by my huntsman. If I ever live to see Egor Bador again, I’ll shake the man’s hand.”

  Lynx laughed. It sounded too loud, too forced. “Right. That’s about all you’ll have to offer him. If you ever get to see him again.”

  Standing behind them as they knelt at the bear, Lukan cringed. But at least he had something he could offer them. Animal taxidermy was just one more set of facts at his disposal, thanks to his insatiable search for knowledge. He wondered if Tao would listen if he offered some advice.

  Needing his brother’s forgiveness, he pointed out the direction of the cuts required to skin the animal. For a moment, Tao hesitated, as if he planned to ignore Lukan.

  Then, Tao made the slashes where Lukan indicated. The need for the fur must have outweighed his pride.

  “You’ll need to scrape off all the flesh,” Lukan said as Lynx and Tao bloodied their hands skinning the bear. “And the fat. It’s an autumn bear, so there will be lots of fat. Then salt the skin. The more the better.” He didn’t want to tell them that the chance of them actually getting a useable fur out of this bear was slight.

  Neither of them acknowledged him. Entirely to be expected, but his heart cried silently for the loss of the only two people in the world who mattered to him. He stepped aside when, job done, they stood.

  Lynx held the bear skin in her arms. With her chin, she pointed to the fly-covered carcass. “Tao, you get that chopped up and into the smoker, while I start scraping this.”

  They planned to eat the bear? Lukan’s stomach revolted, and he had to stop himself from gagging.

  “Butchering a bear.” Tao grinned at Lynx. “I can’t wait.”

  They nudged shoulders, and then Lynx carried the skin over to the drying racks. Drawn to her like iron to a magnet, Lukan followed.