Faida and Murid shared a laugh. Faida wiped a tear from her eye as she spoke again.
“Princess, that’s the easiest way to get a man to see your point of view.”
The two women broke into another round of laughter.
“Perhaps you’re right.”
“You don’t want King Viktor to die before he can officially welcome you into the family, do you?” Faida asked.
Murid stared Faida in the eyes. “No. He and you have been the best part of having to live in this country.”
“Don’t sound so excited.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do. I’d like to think Prince Hafoca could be added to that list too.”
“Some days he is, but then there are days like today, and I just want to strangle him.”
“As I hear it, that’s a sign of a strong marriage too.”
The women shared another laugh.
“Have you been getting into the holy ferm supply?” Murid asked.
Faida presented a jug hidden along the side of the bench.
“I was waiting for you to ask, Princess.”
Murid smiled as Faida poured two cups of honey ferm. Murid and Faida clinked their mugs and drank. The sweet liquid caressed her throat. Murid smiled as she swallowed.
“Would you care for more?” Faida asked as she jiggled the jug of ferm.
Murid covered the top of her cup. “No, thank you. I want to stay annoyed with Hafoca a while longer. This stuff always speeds the process of me forgiving him.”
“That’s what the gods want. That’s why they gave us this gift.”
Someone pounded on the door from outside. “Princess Murid, are you in there?”
“Yes, you may enter,” Murid replied.
Two warriors entered the small temple. Each carried a long sword and a round shield. Murid became instantly concerned.
“What is it? What’s happened?” she asked.
“The king needs to see you immediately,” the first guard answered.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Murid asked.
“His father has died,” the second guard answered.
chapter 4
Two Dogs rested on his knees and moaned. Dawn had fully arrived, but the warm sun could do nothing to remove the cold despair he held in his soul. The old hag in the Corlains’ prison wagon continued to scream at him, but he wasn’t listening. His grief consumed him. Stretched between him and the old woman were the ruins of his village and the bodies of his community. Many mangled by the advanced weaponry the Corlains brought.
“Are you listening to me?” the hag shouted.
Two Dogs slowly raised his eyes and fixed them on the woman. Her cage was at least a hundred yards away, but her white hair was distinct in the morning light.
“Now is not the time to mourn! There are more coming! We must make haste!” the woman screamed.
Her words sounded off. She was a child of Mother Turklyo but not from a tribe near his lands. That meant he couldn’t trust her. Perhaps it would be best to leave her.
“We must leave now! Let me out of this thing! Please! Do not forsake one of Mother Turklyo’s children because you’re too busy weeping like a child!”
She was right. Two Dogs hated to admit it, but he couldn’t change the past. He needed to prepare the bodies for Mother Turklyo; it would take time ensuring each person had his or her appropriate igsidian.
Two Dogs slowly rose.
“Finally, now get me out of this infernal cage! More Corlains could be here any moment!”
The hag was in shock. Bright Stone ensured all the Corlains had died. Two Dogs turned to face away from the Corlain prisoner. His loyalties were with his friends and family. He already knew the fates of Owl Talon, Bird Song, Proud Wall, and Bright Stone. Each had perished before his eyes. He needed the answer to how Swift Shot had fallen. She would be the first he would prepare to meet Mother Turklyo.
“Where are you going? I’m over here! I can help you fulfill Mother Turklyo’s augury! Clearly you’re the one who survived a great massacre! You are the one who will lead our people to victory over the greedy Corlains!”
Two Dogs scoffed. Auguries were tales meant only to inspire the children. He searched for the spot he last saw Swift Shot. Two Dogs stepped over the remains of the Corlains he’d slaughtered. He beamed at his skill. It was a shame he hadn’t left a survivor. The psychological horror of what a few Lacreechee warriors can do would give more than one Corlain reason to halt their advances through Mother Turklyo’s land.
As Two Dogs snickered at his comforting thought, a pained murmur drew his attention. Lying in the grass was a young Corlain. He was a boy, perhaps no older than fifteen, with a Corlain drum lying on his legs. A long arrow stood erect from the boy’s stomach. The youth squirmed as he tried to remove it.
Two Dogs’ gripped his knife firmly as he slowly approached the child. The arrow in his stomach had stripes along the shaft. It wasn’t one of Swift Shot’s projectiles. Perhaps Keen Gaze? If it was his arrow, the boy was in for a cruel morning. Keen Gaze used toxic magic. There would be no cure. The boy would suffer for days before ultimately dying. A cruel smile spread across Two Dogs’ face, but the boy’s bawling fought to erase it.
The boy must have spotted Two Dogs.
“Please . . . help me.”
Two Dogs walked closer to the boy and kneeled by his head.
“Why?” Two Dogs asked.
The boy coughed blood that dribbled down the sides of his cheeks.
“Please . . . wa . . . water.”
The boy’s youth tormented Two Dogs. His suffering seemed unfair, but his people caused the events that led to his pain. Still, he was a child. Two Dogs nearly ran to grab a cup, but his eyes passed over the remains of Proud Wall and the children. Their mangled bodies reignited the fire of pure hatred in his soul.
“No,” Two Dogs said through clenched teeth.
The boy looked confused. He cried and moaned even louder.
“Please! End . . . end my misery.”
Two Dogs stood and took his first steps away from the doomed child.
“Honorable Namerian, I beg you.”
The boy’s choice of words instantly halted Two Dogs’ departure. Corlains relished disparaging Mother Turklyo’s children with that word. He turned and presented his knife so his enemy could see it.
“What did you just call me?” Two Dogs asked.
The boy stopped his moaning with his mouth agape. He seemed confused. Why should he be? He knew better than to use that word.
“I’m sorry—” the soldier started.
He didn’t get any further. Two Dogs slit his throat and gave him the mercy he’d begged for.
Two Dogs wiped his blade in the grass and used his sleeve to wipe his eyes. That boy was too young for this business. Like so many of his tribe’s children. With the distraction dealt with, Two Dogs continued his search for Swift Shot.
Two Dogs searched for his friend. A green legging drew his attention. The fringe on the side resembled arrowheads. Two Dogs’ heart sank as he cautiously approached his friend’s body. He grimly smiled as he counted the four Corlain bodies keeping Swift Shot company. They ambushed her like cowards while she supported Bright Stone.
A moan broke Two Dogs from his self-pity. He focused on Swift Shot. She uttered a second moan. Two Dogs rushed to her, falling to his knees to better cradle her head.
“Swift Shot, are you okay? Speak to me,” Two Dogs said.
Two Dogs laid her head on his thighs and brushed her blood-matted, dark hair from her eyes. She didn’t reply at first, but each moan gave Two Dogs more hope that at least one other Lacreechee warrior survived.
“Swift Shot, can you hear me?” Two Dogs asked.
She still didn’t reply. Two Dogs looked her body over to discover the source of her wound. The answer wasn’t good, but it didn’t look mortal either. Swift Shot was the owner of both an entry and exit wound, likely from a single musket ball. Her wound
was exactly where her torso met her right hip. Two Dogs placed his hands on both injuries and pressed.
“It’s okay, Swift Shot. I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you.”
“Mmm . . . mmm,” Swift Shot murmured.
Two Dogs held his ear close to her mouth. “What was that?”
“Wa . . . water,” Swift Shot said.
Her voice was tired and raspy. Two Dogs raced to the jugs from the celebration earlier. Nearly all were shattered or empty of their contents. Two Dogs had to settle for something more substantial than plain water.
Two Dogs raced back to his friend and poured the corn ferm gently into her mouth. Swift Shot swallowed a little, but most spilled trails from the corners of her mouth.
Swift Shot’s eyes fluttered. “You think . . . I’m that much . . . of a drunk?”
Swift Shot began a fit of coughing at her own joke. Two Dogs felt immense relief. He held her close to his body.
“How are you feeling?” Two Dogs asked.
Swift Shot forced her eyes open. She blinked rapidly as they adjusted to the bright light of the morning sun. Two Dogs felt her misery as she took in the sights of the battle. She buried her head into his chest and sobbed. Her reaction was the catalyst to Two Dogs sharing in her cry. The two bawled for several minutes and held each other. The pity only ended when Swift Shot shouted in pain from her wounds. Two Dogs instantly focused on saving his first, best, and last friend.
“Tell me what to do. I’m not a healer,” Two Dogs said.
“Neither am I,” Swift Shot replied.
Two Dogs challenged his mind to remember anything beyond simply putting pressure on a wound. Strong Cure or one of the other healers would have had no problem aiding Swift Shot. Perhaps one of them survived as well! Though it broke his heart, Two Dogs knew he had to leave his friend to find a healer. Even a body could provide a vial of medicine.
“Swift Shot, swear to me you won’t die while I go to find something to help you.”
“Only if you make the same promise.” Swift Shot barely finished her sentence before more coughing and moaning overtook her.
“I swear it,” Two Dogs said.
“Me too,” Swift Shot responded.
Two Dogs gently laid Swift Shot’s head to the ground. He jumped to his feet and sprinted back to the bodies decimated by the Corlains’ ultimate weapon. Each step made him nauseous. Blood saturated the ground. His moccasins were more red than green. Viscera clung to him as he waded through the body parts.
Two Dogs didn’t see Strong Cure or any other healers. Nor did he find any survivors. His next instinct was to check by Bright Stone’s body. Two Dogs charged up the sloping hill to find more death. Though this time the bodies gave him joy. The shiny Corlain armor had completely transitioned from the black used to camouflage them at night. The glare slowed Two Dogs’ pace as he attempted to protect his eyes. Two Dogs didn’t want to think about the implications that would let people who weren’t Mother Turklyo’s children enchant their equipment. However, not all the tribes were as devout as the Lacreechee. Two Dogs brushed the unsettling thought aside.
“What are you looking for?” the hag asked.
Two Dogs had forgotten about the prisoner. The Corlain prisoner. The Corlain prisoner who was a daughter of Mother Turklyo. The Corlain prisoner who apparently knew the Lacreechee language. The answer to his doubts seemed obvious.
“You.”
Two Dogs practically spat the word at the woman. Now that he was close to her, he truly considered her haggard features. She was extremely thin, with leathery skin stretched across her body. Her hair was white, long, and unkempt, but the Corlains weren’t known for their hospitality. She no longer had stones embedded in her clothing, yet she held an igsidian knife before her. It was a knife Two Dogs recognized. It was Bright Stone’s knife!
The hag tucked the knife into her robe’s belt that served as her only clothing. Tattered fragments hung from it, but it held closed the dirty sack wrapped around her.
“I don’t know what you’re accusing me of, but we’re on the same side,” the hag said.
Two Dogs ignored her. As much as he wanted to choke the life from her body for betraying Mother Turklyo, Swift Shot was more important. He removed her from his thoughts as he searched the Lacreechee bodies that were the last to fall.
“Your chief was magnificent in battle,” the hag said.
Two Dogs moved to the next battered body; it was Unstoppable Force. It didn’t surprise Two Dogs that the mightiest Lacreechee warrior after Bright Stone would be next to her.
“Your chief almost had them, but she knew there weren’t enough of you left. She threw her knife to me,” the hag continued.
The next body Two Dogs found forced him to hurry. It was Quick Nectar. She was one of Strong Cure’s apprentices. Two Dogs rolled her body over to search her belt. The sudden movement revealed that Quick Nectar had an upper and lower half that moved independently of each other. Two Dogs looked away.
“She surprised me in battle. Your young healer stayed close to the hip of your strong warriors. As they were wounded, she quickly applied magic to heal the superficial cuts. It did little more than inspire.”
Two Dogs was sick of the woman’s yammering. “Listen, old woman, I don’t know you or your tribe, but I smell a traitor. Distract me again and I’ll gladly let you explain yourself to Mother Turklyo in person.”
“I’m standing inside a cage, and I’m the traitor? Who do you think summoned the spirits of your fallen to capture victory from certain defeat? It was me, Ancestors’ Hand. I’m of the Intakee people. We spit on the Corlains. I was brought here to see what would happen to my own people if I continued to defy them.”
Two Dogs emptied the various vials from Quick Nectar’s belt. Most of the pouches were empty. Two small bottles were all that remained. One had a pale green liquid, the other had a fine gray powder. Neither meant anything to Two Dogs.
“Do you know what those are for?” Ancestors’ Hand asked.
Two Dogs grasped them firmly and stood. He turned back toward Swift Shot and ran.
“Because I do!” Ancestors’ Hand shouted.
Her admission stopped Two Dogs in his tracks. He turned and slowly walked back to the Corlain prisoner.
“You’re a summoner, not a healer,” Two Dogs said.
“Oh ho, and you know everything about me? I’m a summoner, this is true, but you don’t get as old as me without picking up a few healing spells. Did you find a survivor?”
“That’s none of your concern.” Two Dogs held up a vial in each hand for Ancestors’ Hand to see. “What do these do?”
Ancestors’ Hand smirked. “The gray one will help with baldness. The green one makes it easier to relieve yourself when you’re tired of squatting and pushing.”
Ancestors’ Hand laughed at Two Dogs’ reaction. He threw both vials onto the ground and screamed at the white clouds slowly moving above him.
“Don’t waste them. You never know when those long locks will abandon you with age.” Ancestors’ Hand cackled again.
Two Dogs marched toward Ancestors’ Hand. She hesitantly stepped to the far end of her cage. Two Dogs wrapped his fingers around the bars that separated the two.
“You will help my friend,” he demanded.
A piercing scream of pain came from Swift Shot’s direction. Two Dogs turned to run toward her when she added, “I’m good! Hurry up with that medicine!”
Ancestors’ Hand looked confused. “But you should be the only survivor. The augury doesn’t mention a second.”
“I don’t care about any augury. I’m the master of my own fate. Right now, I’m the master of yours as well. You will save my friend’s life, or I’ll leave you here to starve. Something tells me that if you could leave this cage, you would have by now.”
“That’s true. I can get the spirits to fight for me but not to be polite and get the door for an old woman. I can help your friend if the wound isn’t too serious.”
“But we leave immediately after. There are more Corlains than just this one battalion. The rest of the Black Cloud division is close behind. I’m sure many are coming here to discover what happened to their soldiers as we speak.”
“Leave Bright Stone’s knife with her,” Two Dogs commanded.
“What? No, I need something to focus my magic with.”
“You may borrow from Swift Shot’s igsidian. You will not claim any Lacreechee stones.”
“This is foolish.”
Two Dogs pressed his chest against Ancestors’ Hand’s prison.
“Fine. Fine. Make this harder than it has to be,” Ancestors’ Hand said in protest.
Two Dogs stopped listening again. The stones in his necklace and clothes glowed as he adjusted his grip on the metal bars. He didn’t even have to strain. The bars bent, then snapped off with minimal effort. Two Dogs tossed the useless metal to the ground and stepped aside for Ancestors’ Hand to leave.
“You must be a powerful protector to free me so easily. Mother Turklyo chose wisely when she selected you to personify her augury.”
“No more talk of auguries. Come with me.”
Before Ancestors’ Hand could answer, Two Dogs scooped her up and cradled her in his arms. The woman was light enough that he only had to enhance his speed. She yelped as Two Dogs took off for Swift Shot.
Two Dogs found Swift Shot leaning against a boulder. She was in a seated position, but the fact that she looked alert and aware forced Two Dogs to relax.
“It took you long enough. I’m out of corn ferm and would like a second cup.” Swift Shot held her mug upside-down to prove her point.
“You Lacreechee have a strange sense of humor,” Ancestors’ Hand said.
“Who’s she?” Swift Shot asked.
“Either my new friend or the last person I’ll kill in this battle,” Two Dogs answered.
“There’s that odd humor again,” Ancestors’ Hand said.
Ancestors’ Hand approached Swift Shot. The young warrior slowly stood against the boulder despite obviously putting herself into some discomfort as she did.
Augury Answered Page 6
