Bastial Sentinels (The Rhythm of Rivalry: Book 5) (28 page)

“I didn’t get a chance to tell her that you couldn’t while we’re here.”

“Too busy talk about sex,” Vithos blurted.

Reela put a hand over her face. “Anyway, Jek…” She let down her hand and scowled at her brother before turning to Jek. “I’m sorry you can’t find a place for the seeds while you’re here. I was looking forward to hearing about your first night sleeping without a nightmare. Cleve has told me all about your darkness.”

Jek nodded. “You’re very kind.”

Calvon and Peter came to their table and sat next to Jek. Just after they exchanged greetings, Klaiya and an Elven woman Cleve didn’t know by name walked over to them. The Elven woman sat beside Vithos, not looking at anyone except him. Cleve had seen them speaking many times during their trip from Goldram.

“True is it, you are
yulil
?” Her accent was thick.

“Yes,” Vithos.

She took his cheeks in her hands and kissed him passionately. Feeling as if he should look away, Cleve glanced at the others at the table. They had the same expression he could feel on his face, utter confusion and embarrassment.

Finishing her kiss, the woman got up and started to leave.

“I’m a
yulil
!” Calvon called after her. She ignored him. “What’s a
yulil
?” he asked the table.

But Peter interrupted him. With his eyes locked to Klaiya, he motioned at the empty space on the bench beside him. “Please sit.”

She smirked as she dipped her chin, her eyes rebuking him flirtatiously.

“Why Baylee kiss me?” Vithos asked Klaiya. “She want sex?”

This time Reela covered her face with both hands. Cleve was getting tired of feeling awkward, too. But he couldn’t chide Vithos. It would be like scolding a child for asking how women get pregnant.

“She likes you, and she knows you like her,” Klaiya said. “But don’t keep talking about sex or you’ll die a
yulil
.”

Vithos had a wide grin as he got up. “I’m going to sit with Baylee.” He practically skipped off, leaving Cleve alone on his side of the table.

Servers brought in bowls, and everyone standing hurried to be seated. Again, Peter extended his hand for Klaiya. But she turned and sat at a different table.

“Is she annoyed with me?” Peter asked Reela. “Or does she like me? You can tell with psyche, can’t you?”

Reela stood and walked around the table to Cleve’s side. Looking firmly at Peter, she told him, “I’m not going to tell you what I can sense of Klaiya’s feelings.”

“What do you want?” Peter asked her.

“Excuse me?”

“What do you want for the information?”

A server came to their table with a tray of bowls. He set five down in the middle for each person to take one.

“I’ll give you half my bowl of oatmeal,” Peter said. “Just tell me what her thoughts are about me. She thinks I’m handsome, doesn’t she?”

Reela smiled in disbelief, even gave a laugh. She clearly knew something, piquing Cleve’s curiosity. “I’m not going to answer,” she repeated.

“All of my oatmeal,” Peter offered, pushing the bowl toward her.

“No!” Jek and Calvon objected.

Luckily, Reela showed no interest, shaking her palm at him. “I’m not going to say anything, so you should just eat your breakfast.”

“I can tell you’re a caring person.” Peter looked at her poignantly, raising a finger as he continued. “So you would certainly say if I was wasting my efforts, but you haven’t yet. This must mean I have a chance!”

Reela didn’t look up from her bowl. Even as the whole table watched her, she concentrated on her meal, bringing her spoon carefully to her mouth, moving her lips around it, and then bringing the spoon down for another mouthful. But Peter just stared, waiting for her to glance at him. When she finally lifted her eyes to find him still staring, she cupped her mouth with her free hand, her eyes giving away a big smile her hand was hiding.

“I knew it.” Peter threw up his fist.

Disappointed with herself, Reela shook her head and sighed, though her smile lingered. “You’ve got the heart of a poet yet the grace of a cat in heat. It’s never going to work.”

“Confidence and persistence, my lady.” Peter stirred his oatmeal. “I don’t need grace when I can meow all night.”

“Jek,” Cleve said. “What did Micah say about what we saw?”

“He, Raymess, and Tobkin went to look for themselves. They’ll let us know after breakfast.”

“What did you see?” Reela asked.

“Something moving that looked like wooden poles as tall as the trees. It was coming from the north,” Cleve said. “Couldn’t tell exactly what it was.”

“Siege weapon,” Calvon said with certainty. “Maybe more than one. How far away was it?”

“About a day’s walk,” Cleve answered.

“We’re going to be asked to investigate it,” Jek said.

“Why us?” Calvon dropped his spoon against his bowl with a clank.

“Because I volunteered.”

Calvon glared at him. “You what?”

“No matter what it is, it can’t be good for our army,” Jek argued. “If we can stop it before it gets here, then I want to be there. I might be able to burn down whatever the object is.”

“So go with psychics.” Calvon threw up his hands petulantly.

“They’ll come, too.” Jek motioned at Cleve and Reela. “Maybe even Klaiya.”

“Forget it,” Calvon said. “You don’t need me, then.”

“We need your scouting skills the most!” Jek argued.

“If they’re really moving siege weapons, there’s going to be thousands of them. You won’t need a scout. You’ll need an army.”

Someone was shouting Jek’s name. Cleve turned around to find Micah searching as he shouted with his hands cupped over his mouth. Jek stood and shouted back. “Over here.”

“We didn’t see anything.” Micah spoke with urgency as he came to their table. “Do you and Cleve still remember where you saw whatever it was?”

“We do,” Jek answered without looking at Cleve. The young man was determined, though Cleve still didn’t quite understand why. “We would like to investigate. Calvon believes it may be a siege weapon, maybe more than one. If we have a chance to destroy or damage them while we’re there, we should.”

“A psychic should go with you, as well as an officer—one who’s been here longer than you, Jek.”

But Jek was shaking his head. “I trust myself and our group more than any officer. Reela and Vithos can be our psychics. I trust them as well.”

“We’re either sending an army or no more than four,” Micah said. “And we’re not ready to send an army until we know more about what you saw. If you won’t take an officer, then you, Calvon, Cleve, and Vithos will go. A scout, mage, archer, and psychic, the strongest four we have of each.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Calvon stood. “I’m sure I’m not the strongest scout, Cleve’s a swordsman not an archer, and isn’t Klaiya stronger with psyche than Vithos…who can’t even communicate with us fluently!”

“There’s no need to be humble,” Micah said. “We know your scouting skills are among the best. And Klaiya told us Vithos is the strongest psychic of all of them. She cannot lie to us.”

“What about Cleve?” Calvon looked at him apologetically. “I don’t mean to insult you, but Peter must be a better archer. He’s very skilled.”

“And I don’t mean to insult you, Peter,” Micah said, still speaking with haste. “But however skilled you are, Cleve is better.”

Peter leaned back, raising his palms in front his shoulders. “Don’t worry about me. I’m happy not walking into thousands of enemies.”

Cleve changed his mind. The moment Micah complimented him, he couldn’t let others go in his stead unless he knew they exceeded his skill. Jek was right to volunteer. He was the strongest mage. Cleve should’ve had the same determination from the start. Whatever they found, they would handle it better than anyone else.

“If they’re preparing for an attack, we need to find out as soon as possible,” Micah urged. “Where’s Vithos?”

Reela stood. “I’ll get him.”

“I’ll need a bow,” Cleve said. “And a tunic.”

“We’ll have everything the four of you need by the exit. Meet there as soon as you can.”

The moment Micah left, Calvon glared at Jek. “Why are you so adamant about going?”

“Because we’re the best for the task,” Jek said. “If you want to be an officer, you should start acting more like one.”

Peter whistled tauntingly.

Calvon’s cheeks flushed as his eyes burned with rage. “Are you too stupid to see how dangerous this is?”

“No,” Peter answered for him. “Just too arrogant to care.”

Jek smiled in agreement, and the anger drained from Calvon’s face. He shook his head as he let out a defeated chuckle. “You sure make it easy to remember you’re seventeen. If you keep this up, you won’t reach twenty.”

Chapter 26:

CLEVE

After a surprisingly unemotional goodbye with Reela, for she had confidence he would return unharmed, Cleve got ready to leave. Jek and Calvon agreed that they should go on foot, as it was too difficult to navigate a horse through the forest and impossible to do so quietly.

Vithos’ mouth was stuck in a wide grin as they descended the mountainside. “I asked Baylee she want sex,” he told Cleve.

“Vithos, you’re doing this wrong—”

“She said yes.”

“She what?”

“She said yes.”

Jek and Calvon were ten steps ahead in the middle of their own conversation, one probably of far more importance than what Vithos wanted to talk about.

“You shouldn’t just ask women if they want sex,” Cleve explained.

“Krepps ask their mates if they want sex. But Humans and Elves do sex before marry. So if I can’t ask, then how it ever happen?”

“You should also stop saying the word so often.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s better if you talk to Reela about it when we get back.” Cleve was no expert on courtship, and he was quickly tiring of the topic.

At the end of the clearing, Jek and Calvon waited. “We need to stay together in the forest,” Calvon said. “And be quiet so we can listen for skunks. They might be closer than we think.”

Watching Calvon speak to them seriously was like watching a child fold his arms stubbornly at a parent. If it wasn’t for his stature, Cleve would’ve thought Calvon was no older than fourteen. But he was taller than Jek, and his arms were covered in dark brown hair.

Cleve kept his guard up as they trudged north. They walked hastily in silence for at least an hour, until Cleve noticed movement ahead and pointed. “See that?”

“Get behind the trees before they see us,” Calvon said. “We’ll wait for them to pass, then attack if they’re skunks.”

They separated and moved behind the trees, ready to surround their enemies. Cleve took the bow from his shoulder and latched an arrow to its string. He’d left his own bow in the palace after Fatholl convinced him he wouldn’t need it until later. The moment Cleve had seen the forest, he realized Fatholl was right. The trees made long-distance shooting irrelevant. He would be using a short bow while he was here.

The crunch of footsteps came closer. Cleve pressed his back against the bark, taking a slow breath to ease his nerves. As the men passed by, Cleve slowly eased out, careful not to make a sound as he pulled back his string.

But then he saw their tunics were the color of fresh grass. These were frogs. Letting down his arrow, his breath became steady once again. He looked across their backs at Jek and Calvon on the other side, their shoulders slumping as the tension fell out of their bodies. The frogs continued south, wearily dragging their feet, not even realizing Cleve and the others were there.

It was somber watching them go in silence. There was nothing to say to the tired allies. They’d spent all night in the forest. Rest and food were all that they hoped for in that moment.

Calvon motioned with his head for them to continue, and so they did. Cleve looked back at the frogs going the opposite way. One man must’ve heard them and glanced over his shoulder. His eyes were half open, his tired flat mouth practically begging for sleep, food, or death. Cleve wondered how long the poor man had been here, how long all of them had been here.

The curiosity was out of his mind by the next breath he took, though he was sure it would resurface the next time he saw the same expression of utter exhaustion.

“Are you sure the poles you saw were coming south?” Calvon whispered.

“Yes,” Jek answered.

“They’re going to be difficult to find.”

“That’s why we have the best scout,” Jek said.

Calvon merely sighed.

When they left and no one inquired about bringing food, it occurred to Cleve that he wouldn’t be eating lunch that day and probably not any other day he was here. Even if they caught an animal, he was sure they couldn’t take time from their task to make a fire and cook it. He held his stomach in a silly attempt at preparing for the pain of hunger.