Alliance Forged (23 page)

“What?” he asked.

“I heard you whisper something about not wanting to return to the festival.” He hadn’t realized he’d spoken his inner thoughts aloud. “Summer’s End is a night to enjoy. We can do that just as easily here as over there.”

Varian relaxed and his fingers tightened around hers. Tonight wishes did come true and every minute would remain in his memory. Revered.

Cherished.

“W
ORK as a team!” Varian shouted, then ground his teeth together as Taybor took advantage of the two Light Blade warriors’ lack of collaboration.

The
Na’Chi
scout feinted one way and, as the younger human moved to block him, he dodged in the opposite direction. He then hooked an arm around the human’s neck and shoulders and under his thigh, and body-slammed him to the ground. Dust billowed up to join the haze already coating the training area. Varian slapped his breech-clad thigh in frustration.

“Stop!” He stepped over the line carved into the dirt and into the arena. A cheer came from the next one over but he ignored the noise. Their area was one of twelve scattered around the exercise compound being used for training this morning.

The two warriors still on their feet halted training. The young man on the ground remained there, sucking in huge breaths of air, his sweaty face now smeared with a layer of dirt.

“Aelois, Drascan, the timing of your moves are out. The aim is to
keep Taybor’s attention split between you, wondering which one of you will attack first. Even one step out of sync and you give him the chance to anticipate. And once on the ground, you’re as good as dead.”

With a grunt, Aelois sat up and wiped his face with his sleeve, a grimace creasing his features. Against the more heavily framed
Na’Reish
demons, both humans needed speed, and their lean, wiry builds gave them that advantage.

“Aelois, you have the skills, you’re fast and agile, you know how to fight, it’s just that you’re used to battling one-on-one.” Varian held his hand out to the man. After a moment’s hesitation, the Light Blade took it, accepting his help to rise. Varian clapped him on the shoulder. “Go from the beginning again. Stalk your opponent, time the moves, and take Taybor out.”

From the corner of his eye, two figures standing at the edge of the arena caught his attention. Varian nodded to his scout to begin the training session again and backtracked his steps.

Kalan and Arek waited for him, decked out not in training leathers but full battle gear, their hair pulled back into tight ponytails. Black leather breeches, boots, body armor, weapons belts. Carved into their leather chest plates was the
Lady’s
sun symbol, a striking piece of workmanship brought out by the morning sunlight. Both also wore somber expressions.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“An outrider arrived an hour ago. A
Na’Reish
patrol has been spotted half a day’s ride from here.” Kalan’s mouth flattened into a hard line. “We don’t know if it’s just scouting or intending some sort of attack. I need five of your most experienced scouts and five Light Blades who you feel will work best together. We leave as soon as they can get their armor and weapons.”

“Do we chase or kill the
Na’Reish
patrol?” he asked, adrenaline already surging through him at the thought of a confrontation.

The
Chosen’s
emerald gaze locked with his. “I have no intention of leaving any survivors to report back to Savyr.”

Varian glanced to Arek. “I can think of three Light Blades….”

With the Second’s input, they had a team chosen in a few minutes.

“Inform them.” Kalan bared his teeth in a grim smile. “May the
Lady
bless us on our venture. Its success could be a much-needed morale boost.”

Within half an hour, the party of a dozen Light Blades and
Na’Chi
scouts, Varian included, congregated outside the stables. The human warriors all wore their armor and weapons. Glancing at his own scouts, he made sure each had their thick leather vests on. Unused to the humans’ stiff armor after years of fighting in just the clothes on their backs, they’d all opted to wear the more supple leather vests. They wouldn’t stop a blade as well as the harder armor, but they had their Gift and wits to compensate.

Each Light Blade began saddling the war-beasts used by outriders, although these were larger than the ones he’d seen previously.

Zaune sauntered over, one eyebrow lifting as he watched the proceedings. “Are we expected to ride them?”

“Looks like it.” Varian pointed his chin to the left. “Arek’s ordered each to be double saddled.”

Six of the behemoths stood shoulder to shoulder, their tri-horned snouts tethered to the hitching post. Fur coated their hides in coarse waves, but in winter it grew into tightly curled ringlets, giving them a shaggy appearance but one that kept them warm and dry and was able to stand up to the worst the mountains could throw at them. This close to them, the musty oil secreted by the beasts that gave their hides waterproofing was quite strong.

Thick muscles rippled beneath their hides, from shoulder to haunch, their broad backs well accustomed to bearing the weight of two riders. Large brown eyes gave them a docile appearance, but
they were hardy animals and their endurance over distances more than made up for their lack of speed.

Arek wasn’t a small man, but next to his beast he looked like a stripling youth. He crouched down beside his mount and unfettered its front legs, then lifted each clawed hoof, checking between the segmented toes for debris. It took two to lift the double-seated saddle onto its back, but in less than a minute, the straps were secured around its body.

The
Chosen’s
Second threw his saddle-pouch over the handle-grip between the two seats, then turned toward them. “Choose your beast and mount up.”

Varian headed for the blond warrior. “You realize none of us have ridden before.”

“Won’t take long to learn,
Na’Chi
.” His mischievous grin didn’t reassure him. “Just hang on to the handle-grip until you get the feel of their gait, and use your thighs to steady yourself. Rely on your shoulders and they’ll be sore in an hour.”

Instructions delivered, the human placed a booted foot against a large calloused pad of skin behind the beast’s knee and gripped the edge of the saddle. With a half hop, he sprang upward, and in one twisting movement, ended up seated in the front saddle.

He leaned down to offer Varian his hand. “Use his back knee, just like I did.”

Varian clasped Arek’s forearm and within a few seconds was seated behind the warrior. The saddle proved quite comfortable, the seat more padded than he’d first expected, and the handle-grip between them helped balance him while he settled. It was an odd feeling sitting a man’s height off the ground.

“Ready?” Kalan called. Each Light Blade replied with an affirmative. “Move out. Double-time once we clear Southgate.”

Once outside the city, the pace picked up to a ground-eating gait.
For the first quarter hour, Varian struggled with the intricacies of balance and rhythm. He ignored the first half-dozen amused looks Arek shot over his broad shoulder.

“Just let the rocking motion of the animal become your own!” the Light Blade warrior advised.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” The growl in his tone just made the warrior laugh.

“Come on, Varian, after all those weeks you goaded me in scout training?” The human’s grin matched the brightness of the midday sun. “Welcome to my world,
Na’Chi
.”

That deserved a jab in the ribs, but he was too busy trying to follow the advice and avoid bruising his buttocks any more than he had to. Eventually though he worked out the rhythm and was able to focus on the countryside.

From the city, they headed in a southwesterly direction, following the valley plateau. The terrain was mostly tundra scattered with patches of tufty grass and open stretches of hard-packed ground. Ahead the plateau petered off into undulating plains covered in more varied vegetation. The Lower Crags curved away from them to the west.

“Where are we headed?” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the drumming thud of clawed hooves.

“Toward a little village called Ostare.” Arek pointed to a wooded area on the plains. “That forest extends all the way to the border. The
Na’Reish
use it as cover to get into three Provinces undetected.”

Varian shaded his eyes from the glare of the midday sun. A white haze hung low over the green-tinged grassland to the left of the forest. “Arek, there’s smoke ahead.”

The warrior straightened, his thighs clamping tightly around the thick body of his mount as he rose from the saddle to peer into the distance. After a moment’s observation, he let out a piercing whistle
that attracted Kalan’s attention. He signaled the patrol to a walk and passed on the information.

“If Ostare’s been attacked, then it’s only been in the last half hour. There’s so little wind today, we should have seen plumes of smoke if it’d happened any earlier.” Kalan’s expression hardened. “We pick up the pace. Arek and Varian, you’re scouts. The rest of us will stay mounted when we reach the village.”

A quarter hour more and they could see black smoke beginning to billow into the sky as whatever fire had been started began consuming denser materials. By the time they reached the village, a score of thatched crofts, there was little doubt it’d been raided.

Debris spilled out of the huts: smashed tables, scattered clothing and blankets, shattered pottery. Animal pen gates lay ajar, some broken, others ripped from their hinges. Stock lay slaughtered inside; very few wandered free.

A cold shiver went down Varian’s spine as he scanned their surroundings. Other than the hungry crackling of flames consuming several of the houses, and the acrid scent of smoke saturating the air, the place was ominously silent. Seemingly empty.

Arek drew their beast to a halt and slid from the saddle. Varian dropped down beside him, landing lightly. The change in the human warrior was startling. The mischievous glint and lighthearted visage were gone, replaced by something more glacial, harder, and much fiercer. Deadly. His scent was spicy sharp, underscored with an ice-cold bite.

Passing the reins to the warrior closest, Arek caught his eye, pointed to the hut directly ahead of them, then arced his finger to the right. Varian nodded as he drew his dagger and took the lead.

Rounding the first mud-walled hut, Varian halted and threw up an arm, his fist clenched. Arek halted. A thin, barefooted leg lay sticking out of the doorway. Another stride and he crouched close to the doorway and peered inside. His gaze narrowed as he inhaled the
heavy, metallic stench of blood and other bodily fluids. The odor stung his nostrils.

“Three dead, a woman and two young children,” he stated, voice low, expressionless. He ducked under the low frame. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimly lit interior. Keeping his breathing shallow, he knelt next to the first body.

No matter how many times he witnessed death, particularly those who were innocent or unable to defend themselves like this crofter family, each left a dry ashlike taste in his mouth.

He tilted the young boy’s head back with his finger. His heart started to pound. The
Na’Reish
had been here. Even in the dimmer light of the hut’s interior, nothing could hide the bloody holes on his neck.

“This child has teeth marks on his neck.”

Arek entered the hut, his expression bleak, his mouth set in a grim line. He stepped past him and searched the other two bodies, another young boy, possibly only two or three years of age, and an older woman, most likely their maternal elder.

“These two have been drained as well,” the human said.

Varian knew then any others they found would most likely be of similar ages and share the same fate as these three. The
Na’Hord
patrol the outrider had spotted was a raiding party, and those taken alive from Ostare would be fit, healthy, and able to maintain the fast pace the raiders set in their retreat to the border. Breath hissed between his teeth.

Arek’s tone was brusque. “Let’s check the rest of the village and report back to Kalan.”

The rest of their search turned up fourteen more bodies, all elderly or very young, all bearing the same teeth marks on their throats or wrists.

Returning to the others, Arek related what they’d found. As he finished, Varian surveyed the ground to their left.

“The
Na’Hord
patrol went this way,” he announced, and pointed out the faint tracks pressed into the dirt on a worn trail that led away from the village to the nearby forest. “There’s fresh
Vorc
scat and human footprints, maybe a dozen people. Shall I track them?”

“Go with him, Arek,” Kalan ordered. “We’ll follow. This is one
Na’Hord
patrol that won’t be making it back to the border.”

V
ARIAN ghosted through the forest just ahead of him, slipping from one form of cover to another with such skill Arek lost track of him more than once. While his scouting skills had improved since training with the
Na’Chi
, this display just raised his respect for them several notches. No wonder they’d survived for so long in
Na’Reish
territory undetected.

Crouching behind a moss-covered tree stump, Arek scanned the trail ahead. The temperature beneath the thick canopy of mature trees provided welcome relief from being out in the sun. The lack of heat meant the ground retained its moisture, so the tracks they were following were easy to detect in the spongy soil.

Puzzling though, the
Na’Hord
patrol had made no effort to cover their passing. Pulling his dagger from its sheath, Arek carved an arrow on the western side of the stump. A marker for Kalan and the others who followed a hundred paces behind.

Movement from the corner of his eye halted his actions. Varian
stepped from behind a thicket of thorny-woods and covered the remaining distance between them on silent feet.