Bones of the Empire (6 page)

“No time,” Feanne said, panting. She stumbled and nearly fell. “Get on the damned horse.”

“Feanne, we need to save them,” he pleaded, but she grabbed his shirt and dragged him toward the horse.

“He gave us an order,” she hissed, catching the horse’s reins before it could avoid her. “We run. We will find them after we recover. Get on the horse, Estin. We don’t have long before Liris catches up.”

“No.”

Without warning, Feanne rounded on him and punched Estin in the face. The last thing he felt before he blacked out was feeling the snow chilling his back and tail.

“Taken”

Struggling for every inch of ground, Raeln fell back toward the tunnel as Liris hurled a bolt of lightning past him, scorching his arm and side. He turned away from the blast, avoiding the crackling energy, twisting again as another Turessian stabbed at him with a sword Raeln was certain had been Estin’s. The blade passed closer than he would have liked, hitting the stone archway hard enough that both the sword and stone shattered. Magic or raw strength, these three had a distinct advantage over Raeln and he could only evade them so long.

“Please! There has to be another way!” Dalania cried, making Raeln’s heart sink. He had not seen her in a bit and had hoped she had run with Turess, Estin, and Feanne. That made him fight even harder, knowing he needed to buy time until she ran…if she would run. He had to hope Yoska would drag her off sooner or later.

Raeln kicked the nearest Turessian against the wall as Liris lined up another spell. He could not keep ahead of her much longer—soon she would kill him where he stood. It would only take one spell and he would be done for. He knew full well what a wizard could do, and he had to keep moving or he would be at her mercy.

Snarling, Raeln ducked under Liris’s hand as she raised it and came up with his elbow under her chin. He knew he could not really hurt her—not for long—but stopping her spell from going off would let him live a little longer so the others could run. Before Liris or the others could regroup or recover, Raeln spun and ran for Dalania’s voice, trying to get to her before Liris decided to kill her out of spite, not that Dalania had proven to be any threat so far.

What felt like a wave crashed into Raeln’s back, hurling him forward onto the snowy ground. He slid, scraping up everything from his nose to his toes, his back aching from the impact. Only a few feet away, Dalania stood barefoot on the sloped ground, backing down the hill slowly toward where the others had run, staring at him with fear. He could see she would not leave him…he would have to keep fighting or Dalania would get herself killed beside him. He could accept dying, but not if one of the people he was watching over died first.

Behind Raeln, the creak and pop of crossbows being reloaded warned him that he had little time left. Between the spells of the three Turessians and the remaining undead archers, the entire area where he and Dalania stood was about to become deadly.

Raeln struggled to get up, but his back flared with pain, slowing him. He stumbled toward Dalania, hoping if nothing else he could get between her and the archers. When he fell, she would have no choice but to run. It was a bleak way to address the fight, but one he had known might come. That had been exactly why he had given Estin and Feanne the orders he had. Someone had to live or the entire journey was pointless.

From the corner of his eye, Raeln saw Yoska reappear among some sparse trees behind the undead archers. He darted through them, slashing at the nearest crossbows, cutting the strings and causing them to fire wildly. He even managed to kick the weapon from one corpse’s hands. The man might be old, but Raeln could not fault his skill.

A blast of flame from one of the Turessians washed over the area, reducing the snow to steam, and Raeln spread his arms in a vague hope of shielding Dalania. Almost at the same instant, the remaining crossbowmen fired.

Raeln stood trembling as the flames died around them. Aside from the pain from his earlier wounds, nothing felt different. Looking down, he found Dalania with her hands toward the Turessians, her face twisted with strain and her eyes glowing faintly. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a faint transparent wall cooling from a red shimmer, with seven crossbow bolts embedded in it. As he watched, the barrier vanished and the bolts fell to the mud.

“Dalania, run!” Raeln insisted, but Dalania grabbed his arm to help him try to stay upright. “Go!”

With her free hand, Dalania motioned toward the nearest Turessian, slamming him against the mine wall with magic. As soon as he hit the wall, thick green vines erupted from the stones, wrapped him and squeezed. For all the strength of the Turessians, he appeared unable to extricate himself quickly.

Raeln tried to turn to fight in an effort to slow the remaining Turessians. As he came around, the other Turessian man picked up a rock and threw it. It hit him in the stomach far harder than Raeln had thought a small stone could. With a choked gasp, Raeln stumbled, feeling blood running down his side from a hole an inch below his ribs. He could not breathe well enough to speak or shout and felt as though he were drowning.

Dropping to his knees, Raeln had difficulty keeping track of the others as his head pounded. He was only barely able to register seeing Yoska slammed into a tree by Liris and then thrown to the ground, as two undead leaped onto him. Yoska curled up as the zombies beat at him, clawing for his face and trying to bite at his arms.

Dalania stepped past Raeln. She was going to die, Raeln knew it, but he could not make himself stand with the stone in his stomach. Closing his eyes, Raeln refused to watch her be torn apart by the undead. He had failed his group, but he could not let himself watch as another innocent died while he was unable to help.

Roars filled the area, followed by a deafening crack of thunder. Raeln lifted his head slowly and found a group of heavily armored six-foot bug-like creatures had erupted from the ground and were fighting the undead. The Turessians were hurling spells at the beetle-like monsters while Dalania dragged Yoska away from them and back toward Raeln.

“Get back up!” Dalania told Raeln, grunting as she struggled to pull Yoska, who was groaning but barely moving. “My friends won’t hold them long. Raeln!”

Raeln forced one of his feet under him and tried to stand, but he could not find the strength. Looking down, he saw blood was seeping steadily from his side, soaking his hand, running down his leg, and staining the snow all around him. He tried to shut out the pain and get up anyway, but his body refused to obey.

“I said, get up!” Dalania repeated, putting a hand on Raeln’s shoulder. Strength flooded his body immediately and the pain subsided. “I’m not going to be able to talk reasonably with them…we need to go.”

His breath rasping in his lungs, Raeln got to his feet, grabbed Yoska, and hoisted him over his shoulder. The stone still pressed against his stomach muscles, making it hard to breathe, but whatever Dalania had done was allowing him to ignore it. He ran, making sure to stay a step behind Dalania the whole way down the hillside so he was the target of any attacks.

Within minutes, Raeln felt his strength ebbing and the pain returning. His pace slowed quickly, but Dalania was also slowing as they made their way from the hills to a rockier area of the region, where Raeln hoped they could hide for a time. He began to limp as his whole body ached. It was a struggle to even stay upright, but the stony rises ahead were beckoning him, and he knew he had to make it that far.

Raeln made it to the first section of snow-free ground before he collapsed, barely managing to spare Yoska from being dropped on his head. Yoska groaned as Raeln set him down hard. The moment Yoska hit the ground, he clutched at his ribs, which might well have been broken after the beating Raeln had seen him take.

Straining just to take in enough air to stay conscious, Raeln tried to check Yoska’s wounds, but his shaking hands would not obey. He fell onto his side, staring off in the direction Dalania had gone, hoping to see her come with a horse or some other beast that might carry them away in a hurry. Instead, she reappeared a minute later, walking slowly toward them with her hands in the air. Behind her, a group of ten black-robed humans followed, two with hands raised toward her, their gloved fingers crackling with lightning.

“I’m sorry,” Dalania whispered as she stopped, and Raeln could only stare at her hopelessly as his lungs tightened. “They were waiting for us.”

*

Waking gradually, Raeln’s first sensation was agony as his stomach muscles clenched around the stone embedded in his flesh. Someone else was nearby and he was on his back, but it took him a minute or two to make out where he was. Even the cold winds seemed to be gone, making him wonder how long he had been unconscious. He wanted to lash out and try to get to his friends, but he was well aware that aimlessly swinging at the air would do little good.

Opening his eyes, Raeln saw dry old wooden beams overhead that held up hardened clay bricks. It took him a moment to remember where he had seen similar building designs: the abandoned village outside the mine. Dismissing the idea that he was there, he noticed the rising smoke of a fire burning at one end of the room. Without being able to move easily, he could still see bits of furniture from the edges of his vision.

“Do not move or this will be worse,” warned a man sitting beside Raeln. When Raeln looked up at him, his eyes went straight to the black tattoos around the man’s eyes. Panicking, Raeln tried to stand, but the man put a firm hand on his chest, holding him down. “I had hoped to have this done before you woke,” he said, frowning. “Calm yourself, beast. The pain will get worse before it gets better. Much worse.”

Raeln could hardly breathe, trying to scream for help at the same time as he fought to stand. With the stone still in his stomach, it was all he could do to choke down small gasps of air. Before he could sit up, a woman and another man came to his other side. One grabbed his shoulders as the other moved down and grabbed his ankles. In his weakened state, he could not break their grip on him.

“I am sorry, but we have to do this,” explained the original man, and Raeln realized he was applying pressure to Raeln’s stomach as he used some form of tool to grab at the stone deep in the wound.

Raeln fought against the hold the Turessians had on him, but he was far too weak. They held him tightly as the man twisted the stone in his belly and adjusted his grip. With an agonizing tug against his insides, the Turessian ripped the stone free. Pain washed out Raeln’s vision, and his attempts to scream took the last of his breath away. Slowly, he felt himself sinking again, thinking he would never wake.

Sometime later, the world seemed to lighten, and Raeln opened his eyes to find he lay in another hut like the last one. This time there was little furniture around him and the old woman who had held his shoulders down now sat beside him, her worried expression creasing the tattoos on her face. Thin white hair lay over her shoulder, swept away from the shaved sides of her scalp. When he looked up at her, she smirked and sighed.

“We had thought we lost you, despite our efforts. Do you know where you are?”

“Captive,” he managed to croak out.

“Yes, after a fashion. Can you tell me what the last thing you remember was?”

Raeln groaned and closed his eyes. “Liris and the others beat us down so you could catch us. Doesn’t matter after that.”

“Liris?” the woman asked, frowning. “Could you draw her markings? I don’t know her.”

“No. All of the markings look the same to me.”

The Turessian woman chuckled and nodded. “I thought not. I am sorry for asking. I hadn’t thought about the fact that you can’t read. I sometimes forget and think you are people.”

Raeln snarled at her, though she kept smiling at him, undaunted. She did not seem to recognize she had insulted him. “I can read and write. My sister was a wizard. I received the best education our parents could give us.”

“A southern wizard? I doubt she could read more than a few words herself. I apologize, I know education is not the focus of your people. I do not mean to criticize. We get few uneducated barbarians out this way, unless they intend to invade. Were you trying to invade?”

“No, we were trying to sneak in. Doesn’t matter now. Finish killing me and be done with it.”

The woman laughed, reached down to Raeln’s stomach, and lifted a blood-soaked rag from his skin. When he looked down at it, he saw there was little more than a small cut remaining of his wound. It had been tended to expertly.

“We will not kill you, beast,” the woman told him, switching the rag for a clean one. “I am Preserver Yiral. Do they name your people or shall I call you by your breed?”

“Raeln of Hyeth.”

“Very good, Raeln. We will continue to tend to your wounds until you are able to work. Your companions are nearly healed and will be put to tasks within the day. I have firm hopes for your capabilities. We have few strong slave-caste left after the purging. You will be worth quite a lot to the clan, assuming we can keep you alive. Infection is difficult to heal if it is deep enough.”