A Warrior's Path (The Castes and the OutCastes) (25 page)

She smiled in relief as she approached.  Only a few feet more, and she could unBlend and signal her brothers.  She realized her mistake an instant too late.

Her eyes widened in shock as a Blend, deeper and richer than any she had ever encountered suddenly Linked with her own.

At the same time, a hand clamped across her mouth, muffling any noise
.  A voice whispered in her ear.  “Be silent,” it ordered.  She was held in a grip of iron.

She twisted and saw him.  He was Kumma, and he had three companions.  Two other Kummas and a Rahail.  All of them were holding Blends.  Impossible.

First Father!  What had she fallen into?

Strike with merciless swiftness and ensure your survival.  Hold your blow and you may learn wisdom.  Or you may earn
a fool’s death.

-Kumma aphorism

R
ukh’s grip loosened as he stared in puzzlement at the girl he was holding.  Who was she, and what was she doing alone out here?  She was equipped like a warrior, wearing camouflaged clothing and even had a short sword and a brace of knives strapped to her waist.  He looked closer, and his confusion deepened. She had the emerald eyes of a Muran, the honey-brown hair of a Rahail, and the delicate features and red-golden skin of a Cherid.  She was like no woman he had ever seen before.

“What in the unholy hells,” Keemo whispered.  “Where did she come from?”

“And what is she?” Brand whispered.  “She looks like…”

“Let me go,” the girl whispered furiously after working Rukh’s hand off her mouth.  “I’ve done nothing to you.”

A shock, like lightning, raced through Rukh, and his blood ran cold.  On a night of surprises, this one was just about as startling as all the others.  He knew what she was.  Words from childhood lessons came to him as he struggled to hold back his sudden disgust and anger.  She was a ghrina, a child of two Castes.  She was an unholy abomination, warned against by the First Mother and First Father in
The Word and the Deed
.

But her presence here should have been impossible.  A ghrina and its parents were immediately evicted from a city as soon as they were discovered, even those as young as a newborn.  It was a
death sentence.  No one could survive the Wildness.  Between the Queen, her Chimeras, and the brutality of the wilderness itself, anyone caught out alone beyond the safety of an Oasis would quickly die.  Or so everyone had always assumed.

Obviously, their assumptions
had been wrong.  Some ghrinas must have managed to survive and live on in the Wildness.  The proof of this disturbing truth sat before him: an adult ghrina, living, breathing, and healthy.

Rukh didn’t know what to do.  Should he simply kill her out of hand?  It was what might have been done back in Ashoka.  Death was supposed to be a ghrina’s proper punishment, but it seemed so barbaric.  He growled
low in frustration.  This was the last thing he needed to worry about right now.

He shook his head in frustration
.

And to think several months ago, he
thought he had the world figured out: there were the Castes and the cities and there was Suwraith and her hordes. Life was simple, and he liked it that way. Now…he sighed as he came to a decision.  He couldn’t kill the girl, not yet anyway, and he wasn’t sure if doing so would even be moral, no matter what
The Word and the Deed
commanded.  If nothing else, he had to learn more about her and where she came from.

“I’m afraid we can’t let you go miss,” Rukh said.  He gestured
to the motionless Bael general who was praying or something.  “He’d kill you, eat you up, and pick his teeth with your bones.  And if you’re lucky, in that order.”

The girl snorted in derision.  “My name isn’t
miss
, and the Chim out there would have to catch me first.  I don’t think he can.”

“I caught you,” Rukh reminded her.

She stared at him, taken aback by either fear or surprise.  A moment later, she struggled anew against his grip.  “Let me go.  You have no right to hold me,” she said.

Rukh shook his head at the girl’s misplaced confidence.  Women weren’t weak.  That w
ent without saying.  His mother was about as indomitable an individual as he could think to name.  But women were also to be sheltered and protected.  They were the hope of Humanity, the only ones able to bear the next generation.  To put them unnecessarily at risk in the Wildness was folly beyond measure.

The ghrinas – and where there was one who was
an adult, there had to be another – didn’t seem to care as much about their women.  Rukh wondered what it might mean for what they were as a people to put their women in danger like this.  Who were they, and where did they live?  None of it mattered – not now anyway – but he was curious.  Or maybe he was reading this all wrong.  Maybe this girl was a criminal and running from her own kind.  But then why was she dressed as a warrior, and why had she been spying on the Baels?  She looked and acted like a scout, not a criminal.  He glanced at her again, taking in more details.  Well, she wasn’t a girl.  In fact, she looked to be about his age, and she was most definitely a woman.  A strange looking ghrina woman but somehow compelling.  She might even be considered beautiful if not for her oddly mismatched features.

He grimaced in abhorrence at the idea, but something in his face or posture must have given away his thoughts.  She noticed, and her eyes were suddenly hot and full of anger.  “
That’s right.  I’m a ghrina, an abomination.  Take a good look.”

Rukh didn’t bother answering.  He was still angry with himself.  He had thought the ghrina was beautiful?  Disgusting.

“We should…”Farn began, a look of hatred on his face as he stared at the woman.

“No,” Rukh ordered.

Farn wanted to kill the woman.  He had no qualms about the matter.  Rukh could see the urgent desire in his eyes.  His cousin had always been more of a reactionary, and with all the sudden changes pushed onto him; he could see Farn reaching his breaking point.  But right now he needed his cousin to hold on a little longer.  They could always kill the ghrina later, although Rukh hoped it wouldn’t have to come to that.

But…
” Farn protested.

“I said no
.” Rukh cut him off, his voice as hard as the spidergrass of his sword.  “Not now.  We don’t have time for it anyway.”  He pointed to the Bael, still praying.  What in the unholy hells could a Chim pray for anyway?  “First, we deal with the Bael.  Then her.”

Farn simmered down into an unhappy silence.

“Burn the Chim from a distance,” Brand urged.

“I want to talk to him first,” Rukh said.

“What!” Keemo said, in a strangled voice.  “Rukh, no…”

“I have to understand…”

The woman took advantage of his inattention and nearly freed herself.  Suwraith’s spit!  The stupid ghrina would give all of them away.  Rukh’s Blend was adequate at best, but not good enough to disguise the noises she was making.

“I’ve got it,” Brand said.  “I’m Linked with her, remember?”

Rukh exhaled in relief.  He’d forgotten.  Rukh nodded ‘thanks’, grateful for Brand’s help.  The woman still struggled, though, and that had to stop.  Rukh put her in a body lock, his legs cinched tight around her waist with one foot tucked behind a knee.  His right arm snaked under her chin, and he had her in a chokehold as well.  “Don’t,” he warned.  “I’ll put you to sleep if I have to.”

She slowly and resentfully subsided.

“If you’ve been here as long as I suspect you have, you probably heard everything the Baels said.  I need to understand what they meant, and I think you want to know, too.”  Rukh carefully relaxed his grip.  “Now, I’m going to release you to my friend over there.”  He gestured to Keemo.  “Don’t try to run, and I’ll tell you everything the Bael tells me.  And then you can tell it to your ghrina commander over there by that little hummock of grass.”

The last had been a guess, but judging by the woman’s open-eyed expression of shock, it had been a good one.  “How did you…who are you?” she asked in a furious whisper.  “You’re Kummas, but you can Blend.”

“We’re men you don’t want to mess with.  Now, shut up.”  Thankfully, the woman stayed quiet and still, even if she looked like she wanted to run him through with her sword.

Brand gave Rukh a look of uncertainty.  “How did you know she wasn’t alone?
  I can barely sense anything,” he said.  “After Suwraith, the ground around here…it’s like someone shouting in my ear.  I can’t feel Blends like I normally can.  I could barely tell the girl was there until she was right on top of us.”

“It was a guess.  If she had backup, I figured they would have to be nearby.  They’re probably all ghrina like her, and the only other place around here a person could hide is behind that little hillock.”  He glanced at the woman.  “So what do you say to my offer?”

She considered his proposal, frowning angry murder the entire time before reluctantly nodding.  “Fine.  But two things first.  Stop calling me ghrina.  We’re OutCastes.  And second, let go of me.  I won’t be wrapped up like fried fish in paper.  I’ll wait here quietly without someone’s thick hands all over me.  And I won’t run or signal my unit.  On my honor.”

Rukh briefly wondered what she meant by fried fish in a paper.  It sounded unappetizing.  He shrugged.  A mystery for another time.
At least she sounded sincere about not running away.  “Agreed,” he said, accepting her terms. 

With that, he released her and watched as she scooted away from him and the other Ashokans, but
at least she remained behind the rocks.

Rukh looked at Farn, who eyed the ghrina distastefully.  “Remember, nothing happens to her,” he reminded his cousin.

Farn eventually nodded before moving his angry gaze away from the woman, turning it toward the Bael instead.  “Are you sure about this, Rukh?  You really want to talk to him?”

“If I can.  If he doesn’t attack, then I won’t have to kill him…”

The woman snorted in derision.  “Think much of yourself?”

“You have something to say?”  Rukh
asked, annoyed by her mocking tone.

“You four are pretty young.  I’m guessing this is your first time out in th
e Wildness, right? 
Virgins
is how you Purebloods put it, I think.”  She smirked as they shifted uncomfortably.  “You’ll find Baels, or even Tigons for that matter, aren’t as easy to kill as you seem to think.”

“We could kill him from here if we wanted,” Farn growled.

She rolled her eyes.  “Right.  The vaunted Kumma Fireballs,” she said, clearly disbelieving them.  “But if you close with him, you lose the advantage of distance, and in close quarters, he’ll have you.  You’ll be easy meat.”

“Then there will be one less of us you need to worry about
,” Rukh snapped.

He stood slowly, keeping his Blend in place as he stalked the Bael on silent feet.  He slid to the general’s side, leaving Farn a clear shot with a Fireball if need be.

As far as he knew, other than in the heat of battle, no one had ever been this close to one of the creatures.  The Bael kneeled on heavy knees and sat back on his hocks.  The beast’s legs ended in wide, bovine hooves.  Standing, he would be eight feet tall and full of heavily muscled fury.  His horns, each about three feet long and several inches thick at the base, were curved slightly.  They faced forward at the tip and were wreathed with a number of feathers, the most prominent of which were the red ones, proclaiming his position as general.  His bristly tail with its terminal tuft of hair occasionally switched at the flies buzzing about him. The Bael was thickly wrinkled in places, especially the joints, and his tough, black skin was covered in a dense coat of short, coarse, black fur.  It twitched at times to shake off the same flies.  His hands were massive, with thick nail-less fingers wrapped firmly around his trident.  His only garments were a crossed-leather harness and breechcloth from which his whip was hung.  His red eyes were closed, and he breathed slowly and steadily, as if meditating.  A heavy scent, like musk and cut grass, lingered about him.  But the beast didn’t stink – not like the manure smell of a cow.

Rukh eased his sword from its scabbard, aiming it at the Bael’s neck.
  He let the Blend fall away and cleared his throat.

The general slowly lowered his
closed-eyed gaze from the sky and looked at Rukh.  He blinked, but otherwise evinced no surprise.  His lips pulled back into a smile, revealing teeth disturbingly Human in appearance, especially considering his bull-like face.  The Bael let go of his trident, letting it fall to the side as he bowed his head.  “My life is yours, brother,” he said, his voice carrying and commanding.  “Do with it as you wish, but I will not fight you.”

Rukh kept his face still, hiding the surprise he felt.  He had expected the Chimera commander to roar with rage and charge, trident leveled and chained whip aflame.  Not this meek surrender.

In just about any other instance, Rukh might have been moved to pity.  Had it been a person, even someone he hated, bowing down and asking for mercy, he would have granted it.  But the Baels were different.  They had too much blood on their hands.  Again and again, history described the evil of the red-eyed bastards and their undying hatred for Humanity, a hatred returned in fullness.  Even now, despite his earlier words to his cousins and Brand, the pent up desire to kill the Bael, the commander who had ordered the death of all his friends and brothers on the caravan, ate at Rukh’s soul.  It overwhelmed his desire for any knowledge the beast might give him.  Death would be too good for the creature.

His grip tightened, and he prepared the killing stroke.

“Thirty Tigons approach from the south,” the Bael said, softly.  “They have seen you already.  Stand and fight with me, brother.”