Defiance (Rise of the Iliri Book 3) (2 page)

Chapter 2

The couple left early the next morning.  The sun was up, but it was impossible to tell behind the snow filled clouds.  Jase gently lifted his supposed wife into the saddle, holding her hand for a moment before he turned to his own horse.  Beside him, the Bysnian quartermaster waited for the foreign Sergeant's attention before speaking.  The scent of anxiety wafted from him, mixed with a hint of disgust.

"Sir, I'll have the units prepared and dispatched to Prin within the month, will that be acceptable?"

"Thank ya," Jase said.  "That'll do, but the sooner, the better.  I'll have a letter ta my commanders b'fore they arrive."

"Thank you, sir," the quartermaster replied.  "I've also refilled your supplies with some dried meats, cheeses, and a bit of bread.  Is there anything else Bysno can offer before you go?"

"No. Thank ya." Jase nodded at the man.

Rather than turning to leave, the quartermaster looked at the Conglomerate soldier a moment longer.  "Are things so bad with Terric then?"  His eyes flicked to Sal. 

So that was the reason for his distaste.  He knew she'd spent the evening in that man's bed.

"Yeh," Jase answered honestly.  "They are.  Ya do na have the iliri here, so ya would na know.  If yer skin is lighter than the soil, yer hair is anything but black – or yer eyes – ya never know when a man will come for ya.  I know of two entire towns that were simply found dead. 
Entire towns
."

The quartermaster nodded, stepping back.  "I understand, then.  Safe travels to you, Sergeant, and watch out for the grauor wolves.  They're common between here and Dorton."

"Thank ya, sir, I will."  Jase mounted his horse and turned for the gate without looking at her.  She squeezed her mare to follow. 

They trotted down the road in silence.  Once the keep was well out of sight, the pair moved to the side of the road.  Sal dropped from Arden's back, ignoring her tangled skirts, and rummaged in her packs to find clean riding attire. 

Relaxing, she returned to her normal form. A tingle traveled across her skin as it reverted to the color of the new fallen snow around them.  When her ears were once again on top of her head where they belonged, she flicked them toward her partner.  On the other side of Raven, Jase was rummaging in his packs.

Satisfied she was back to normal, Sal tossed her blue cloak across the saddle and turned her ears to the road.  Hearing nothing, she stripped.  Cold air hit her bare skin.  This court clothing was too cumbersome for travel.  The sooner she was rid of it, the safer she felt.  Winter in the mountains was enough of a reason not to dawdle, but she still hoped to catch a glimpse of her partner's lithe body.  She leaned to the side.  Unfortunately, his mare stood at the perfect angle to block her line of sight. 

So Sal yanked on her boots and strapped her leather armor across her chest quickly.  Ignoring the cold, she ducked under his mare's neck and dared to enjoy the view.  Jassant Cynortas had the angular beauty typical of the iliri.  With his back to her, she could see the swirls of tattoos across his left arm, turning him into a living piece of art.  He'd added new ones before they left, the lines reaching down his back, following the arcs of his muscles. 

He tilted his head slightly, proving he heard her.  Slowly, he turned, but wouldn't meet her eyes.  She wasn't going to let him keep ignoring her.

"You good with this?" she asked, hoping to break the ice between them.

"Yeh.  Ya know it does na bother me.  Yer the one that had ta sleep with the man."  He pulled his shirt over his head to avoid her gaze.

"I meant poisoning him rather than a clean kill."

"That?  Well, that's na as much fun, but, it's the job, ya know?"  He flicked his eyes up.  "Ya na getting soft on me are ya, Lieutenant?"

"No, not likely.  It just makes more sense to be well away from there before the man takes ill."

"Yeh, can na say I disagree none."

Sal paused, watching him.  "It was a good hit, though, I made sure of that.  In about a month, the Murtadem will make his heart fail."

Jase just nodded.

"Ok, what?" she demanded.

"Nothing."  This time, he avoided her gaze by climbing onto his horse. 

Something was very wrong between them but every time she asked, he refused to discuss it, claiming there was no problem.  He'd been like this ever since she'd refused him during her annual estrus.  That had been halfway through Myrosica before they'd even reached this backwater country.  Since then, he hadn't made any attempts to touch her.  No matter how hard she tried to get him to talk about it, all he would do was say he was fine.  She knew he wasn't.  She could smell it, but Glish had no word for the crisp tang of that emotion. 

At first, she'd thought the awkwardness was simply because they were on their own.  While Jase was the more veteran of them, Sal was the ranking officer.  He'd always said that was the way of their kind, but then her body had decided it could wait no longer.  He'd been the perfect gentleman, understanding that she had no interest in bringing a child into war, but that's when everything started to change.   

After that, Sal had assumed it was simply the hardships of the road.  Long days on horseback and splitting the watch gave them little time to do more than talk.  Conversation had run dry, and he was still holding himself away from her.  She couldn't remember the last time she'd been wrapped in those tattoo-covered arms.  He'd become withdrawn.  Sitting beside him now, she missed how close they'd been before this trip started. 

She sighed and grabbed her mare.  After pulling her cloak black-side-out around her shoulders, she swung her body onto Arden's back.  With legs as short as hers, it was the only way to reach the saddle.  Jase wasn't much taller – both of them small compared to any human – and their war horses were bred to be massive.  She tossed one last look at him before squeezing Arden into a lazy walk.

"He wasn't any good you know," she mentioned to the road. 

"Prolly na," Jase agreed, glancing at her once.  "Things are so strange here.  I can na imagine treating a woman the way they do.  It's hard for me, ya know?"

"Is that what this is about?"

"Is what about?" he muttered.

Sal wanted to snarl but tried to keep her tone casual.  "I know it's been a long time since our last job – and this one doesn't count.  I thought that's why you were so annoyed with me."

He didn't reply.

That had to be it.  It wouldn't be much longer now, only about a week until they would be able to truly kill again.  After being on the road for almost three months, a week seemed like the blink of an eye.  Sal looked at Jase astride his blue roan mare – but glanced away before he caught her. 

Around them, snow turned the world black and white.  He reminded her of a statue in his shades of grey: beautiful in a harsh way.  If Zep were here, he'd tell her how to fix this, but relationships were the one thing she'd never been able to master. 

"Sal" he whispered, breaking into her thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"It is na just me?  Ya see that?"

She nudged Arden over, looking across his horse.  There, on the side of the road were a few spots of vivid red, brilliant in the monochromatic world.  Her eyes met his, but he quickly glanced away.

"Jase," she almost growled, "you're going to have to stop doing that eventually.  But yeah, I see it."

"K."  He still didn't look at her.  "Do we ignore it or follow it, Lieutenant?"

Annoyed now, Sal sat deep in her saddle halting her horse.  "Ok, first, let's deal with this."  She waited for him to raise his head.  "
What
is wrong, Jase?  It's been almost three months, and
now
you won't meet my eyes, you have barely talked to me lately, and you're addressing me by rank?"

He continued on a pace, still looking at the garnet colored specks before reining in Raven.  "Do ya really think it's a good time for this?"

"No," she had to agree.  "Just stop calling me Lieutenant and let's figure out what's bleeding."

He nodded once then guided Raven forward, intent on the trail of blood.  The two mares became more alert as their riders sat up in the saddles, but trudging through the drifts was cumbersome work.  Step by step, they followed the droplets as the spots swelled and ebbed in the virgin snow.  After nearly a kilometer, whatever they were tracking had left the side of the road and moved toward the trees.  The person or animal was bleeding freely, but the footprints had long since been blown away by the wind.

Jase glanced up at her once, his deep blue eyes holding hers while he slid off his horse.  A snarl wanted to take over her face.  She knew he was trying, but his submission made her crazy.  As he followed the blood trail, she dismounted, sinking to her shins in the frozen white. 

Maast
, Jase whispered into her mind. 

He hadn't sent a thought to her in months.  Sal wasn't sure which shocked her more, the cursing or his touch on her mind.  Without Arctic to stabilize their mental link, it was rare to hear him in her head and, so far, had only happened when they were touching.  She struggled to catch up, her short legs reaching through the drifts.

When she neared the tree, she saw it.  Laying in the snow was a large beast, nearly the size of an iliri.  It resembled something between an otter and a mastiff, yet not quite like either.  Its body was covered in dense, white fur, allowing it to blend into the snow.  The beast's eyes were closed against the pain.  Its muzzle was short and she could see sharp teeth as the thing's mouth hung open, panting.  Arrows riddled the animal's body.  Its blood seeped slowly, staining the snow a deep burgundy.  Oddly, Sal felt nothing but pity for it.

She slipped her knife from her belt.  "It's still alive.  We can't leave it like this." 

"Nah, Sal, look."  Jase pointed.  "She has pups."

"Fuck, seriously?" 

It lay on its stomach, head turned to the side, forelegs tucked to its chest.  Now that he'd pointed it out, she could see what appeared to be a pair of tails hidden between the animal's legs and her throat, the pups trying to burrow into the snow. 

Sal dragged a hand across her head, pushing back her ears in frustration.  "Damn that's going to make her a lot more dangerous."

"Prolly."  He shrugged, then let the silence hang between them. 

But she couldn't just walk away.  Wanting to see how much strength the thing had, Sal decided to move closer to the bitch – cautiously.  One small foot moved, the pup trying to push farther under its mother and away from her strange smell.  From the other came a tiny whimper.  The poor things had no idea their mother was dying, but they probably couldn't survive without her.  Especially not in the middle of an Anglian winter.

Hoping to reach one before the bitch had a chance to attack, Sal knelt slowly.  Just before her fingers could touch the little white leg, she checked the creature's face.  It hadn't moved.  Hadn't even flinched, but staring her down were a pair of white, slit eyes. 

Sal jerked away in shock.  She landed on her ass in the snow and scampered out of its reach.  "Maast, Jase, look at her eyes.  Look at her damned eyes!"

"Ayati," he breathed at the same time.  "She has iliri eyes."

The beast snarled, her gaze locked on Sal.  Their eyes were identical.  Both Sal and the animal in the snow had perfectly white eyes, broken only by the vertical pupil in the center.  Both she and the beast were the color of the snow.  Both of them had mouths filled with teeth sharp enough to rend flesh from the bone.  Only one of them had fur.

"Sahvarr grauori, nas vahn ilirri."

"I'm na crazy am I?" Jase asked softly, both of them frozen in place.  "She... Did she say iliri?" 

"
Sahvarr nas vahn ilirri
," the beast repeated emphatically in a weak whisper.

"Savar nas vahn iliri?" Sal asked.  It sounded almost like her species' native language, but none of the words were quite right.

Somehow, she pulled her attention away from the bitch long enough to glance at her partner.  He stood behind her, his mouth open, frozen in shock.

"You know what it means, don't you?" Sal kept her voice low.