Hammers in the Wind (18 page)

“He’s right,” Nothol Coll said. “We’ll have serious problems if she makes it to Rogscroft.”

“Rogscroft poses its own challenges,” Bahr finally said. He wasn’t sure why, but he was glad he hadn’t been given the opportunity to speak. The words he was ready to say would have been damning. What they needed was to refocus on Maleela. “It is the heart of our new enemies. We will need either great skill or strong magic to get inside the city walls.”

“Best we catch her before they can get her inside,” Anienam suggested. “Stelskor is a capable king. There is small chance we will be able to sneak inside his city.”

Ionascu looked up from the empty saddles. “Ha! Many of us have been within Rogscroft. This should be no difficult feat.”

“No doubt you’ve been in the royal chambers as well,” Boen snickered.

Ionascu snarled. His right hand dropped perilously close to his sword. He’d had enough with this group and their damned quest. Truth be told, he didn’t care one bit if they got Maleela back or not. It’s not like Badron actually cared. Right now he wanted nothing more than to report back to Harnin and be done with this sad affair. His patience was worn thin. The motley assortment of would-be heroes sickened him with their constant bickering and small dreams. Compounding matters was the death of his man on the Bane. Now two more had fallen. Ionascu wanted to lash out but didn’t know against whom.

It was entirely possible Harnin had another agent on board. Ionascu only knew a few of the men. Natural suspicions spread roots. He wondered just how much he could trust Harnin. He scolded himself, realizing just how close he was to drawing his blade. Boen was a big man, forget the fact that he was Gaimosian. No man in his right mind dared challenge a Vengeance Knight in single combat.

Ionascu walked to the fire and sat down. He had much to think on if he was going to survive and learn the identity of the killer. He had suspicions, but they remained baseless. Instincts warned of the mysterious jungle girl. Rekka Jel was as dangerous as any man he’d met. Her skill with the sword rivaled even the most competent fighter. Ionascu had heard rumors of such tribes but dismissed them as fanciful stories. He knew better now. Women like Rekka should be avoided.

He looked up, noticing how the others still stared at him. He decided it was time to change the subject. “My men and I came here for the king. The princess is our one concern. Once she returns to King Badron we shall settle these differences.”

The old wizard eyed him thoughtfully but stayed silent.

“He’s right,” Nothol said. “Princess Maleela needs to come first. All else can wait.”

Skuld shook his head. The night’s events had proven too much. No experience as a street thief compared to the sheer terror he’d witnessed. He finally understood what it meant to be a man and wasn’t exactly sure he liked it. Skuld was thoroughly convinced all of these men were crazed.

“The kidnappers could be anywhere, potentially already in the city,” Bahr added. “Regardless, the attack tonight changes things. We will be hard pressed to move quickly if the enemy decides to continue to pursue us.”

Nothol Coll stretched. “Dorl and I should range ahead. We need scouts now.”

“Of course we will,” Dorl scowled. He clearly did not enjoy the thought of being a scout in enemy territory. A single mistake and no one would ever know if they were killed. Worse, he shuddered at the thought of spending the rest of his life locked away in a dungeon.

Bahr nodded thoughtfully, rubbing warmth back into his hands. “It is settled. Rest now. We move again in an hour.”

The slender blade ripped clear of the man’s stomach. Thick ropes of dark arterial blood preceded the drop of entrails. Rekka Jel instinctively dropped back into a fighting stance. Her long black hair, tied neatly in a tail, hung lazily over her left shoulder. Sweat beaded across her brow. The dying man at her feet groaned, a rattled whisper. Rekka looked down and inched away from the spreading pool of blood.

Her breath was calm and measured. Her slightly pinched eyes narrowed. Five men already lay dead in her wake. She’d waited on the trail as Bahr and the others rushed off. Only the captain knew she’d stayed behind. Not that she cared. Stealth and secrecy were her closest friends. Friends that she sorely needed right now.

The soldiers of Rogscroft were not accustomed to the warrior ways of the south. Rekka almost smiled at how easily they fell under her blade. Granted, none of them had seen her coming. She had changed back into the form-fitting black clothes. The combination transformed her into the definition of lethality. She slipped unseen through the trees, doubling back on her unwitting prey. All it took after that was a single cut and she patiently waited for her next opponent.

Rekka jerked up at the sound of leaves crunching beneath a boot. The soft glow of torchlight told her it was time to move again.

“Captain, over here!”

She froze. The voice was much too close.

“Who is it?”

A pause. “Trent. His belly’s been ripped out. Damned body is still warm.”

“Spread out. The killer can’t be far. I want the bastard’s head on a pike before dawn.”

Rekka crouched and scanned the immediate area. She counted seven, maybe ten men still hunting her. Too many to fight at once. Rekka knew when she was outnumbered. It was pointless to risk her life so carelessly. It was a matter of time before the soldiers beat through her defenses and killed her. She had one hope. Go to ground and take cover.

“Think you can hide in the dark without us finding you, little bitch?” growled a deep voice in her ear.

Rekka’s heart jumped. How had he managed to get so close without her sensing it? She cursed herself for being careless.

The man continued. Sheer violence dripped from his words. “You left five of my friends gutted out on the trail back there. Seems only right I do the same to you.”

His voice was a low whisper, harsh and threatening. Rekka didn’t move.

“Such a shame too. You’re a pretty little thing. It’s a waste to cut you up into little pieces.”

A mistake. He was more focused on her looks and the way her clothes hugged her every curve. Amateur. Rekka flinched, wanting him to feel like he was in total control. He took advantage and leaned closer, inhaling deeply at her neck. A chill rippled across her exposed flesh. Her eyes widened. This man was more dangerous than she’d given him credit for. He laughed in response to her body tightening.

“Yes, pretty. I’m not like those others.”

The sound of soldiers gradually faded until all that remained was the diminishing glow of torches. Soon even that was gone. They were alone in the dark.

Rekka decided to push him, praying he made a mistake. “What now? Do we lay here until dawn?”

“What’s the rush?” he snapped. “In a hurry to meet the afterlife?”

“I want you to shut up and get it over with,” she replied harshly.

He laughed and violently shoved her forward. Rekka stumbled, using it to her advantage. She dipped low and brought her sword around in one smooth motion. She caught only air. Rekka’s pulse quickened. There was no sign of her attacker. Gone, as if swallowed by the night. Panic threatened. She knew she was in trouble.

“Ah, weren’t expecting me, were you?” he chided.

His voice was distant, off to the right. Rekka fought the urge to run. This man was obviously skilled and trained in one of the lost dark arts that she had no weapons to counter. Rekka Jel was worried. It had been a long time since she last faced such a challenge. The last time she barely escaped with her life. A troubling thought. Tonight might be her last.

“Where are you going to run?” His voice came from the left now. “You don’t know where I am. I can smell your fear, see it in those lovely brown eyes. Yes. Fear rises up. It paralyzes your thoughts, threatens you with atrophy. Every heartbeat is like ice flowing through your veins.”

Rekka stepped left. Her footsteps were soft, like freshly blown sand dancing across glass.

“Which way to go. There is no answer,” he mocked. “Does it frighten you? The knowledge that I can kill you at any moment? In a blink you might feel the stab of cold steel piercing your tender flesh.”

Rekka held her ground. It was a struggle to keep her fears in check lest they render her useless. Her natural instincts told her to break and run as fast as she could. Reality was far crueler. Fleeing was an invitation to death. Rekka needed to tactically withdraw until she found a place in which to mount a defense. It was her only chance.

“Go now; run as far away from me as you can. I will still find you. No matter where you go or how fast you run I will find you. When I do it will be a moment of unspeakable horror. Run now, little girl. Run for false hope.”

Rekka stood fast despite the icy malice threatening her. Dead or alive, she refused to play his mind games. Any sign of weakness now would only play into him. A single bead of sweat trickled down her right cheek before dropping onto her chest. The midnight air was thin and chill. She tightened the grip on her sword. The first few moments were critical to her future. Rekka drew three deep breathes and sprang into action.

She cut and slashed in a series of well-rehearsed moves, managing three complete circles before settling on a direction and sprinting off. She ran for all she was worth. When she finally stopped her breath was ragged. Her chest burned. She struggled to catch any signs of her assailant. There was nothing but the stale breeze caressing dead leaves. Rekka felt sick.

She’d never been hunted before. Rekka was always the unflinching aggressor in this situation. To be caught in the opposite position was as infuriating as it was humiliating. She allowed herself a brief moment to imagine the nightmare she was about to unleash if she managed to catch him first. Puzzles raced through her mind as she ran. What was it about this man that made him more special than his fellow soldiers? She had a suspicion that he was far more than a mere soldier. His demeanor whispered assassin, or worse. Rekka scowled. She’d had run-ins with assassins and would-be murderers before and managed to escape with little effort. The jagged scar running between her breasts was a living reminder of those experiences.

The regular Rogscroft soldiers provided no challenge. The men of the north were renowned to be fierce fighters, but were unaccustomed to her lightning style of combat. Her stalker proved the exception. It would be a long contest and she was unsure of the outcome. Rekka decided to sheath her sword and run. Sticking around in the dark wasn’t much of an option. Nor was waiting for him to find her. She paused only long enough to make a conscious decision which way to run.

The last thing she wanted was to lead him back to Bahr and the others. She had no doubt they would give a good account of themselves, but the resulting battle would serve as a beacon for any Rogscroft soldiers in the area. Her only option was to trail after the foot patrol that had just passed. They were clumsy, undertrained, and young. Following them was no large task. Rekka moved as fast as she dared. The young warrior maiden from the south settled in for the long night. The assassin was close on her heels.

*****

“Sure, we’ll scout ahead,” Dorl Theed mocked. “What were you thinking?”

Nothol remained taciturn. He knew his friend well enough to know when to stay quiet. His anger would soon wash away. After all, this wasn’t the first time.

Dorl continued to shake his head. “Did I happen to mention it’s damned cold out and you volunteered us for this damned mission?”

Nothol yawned. “Who else was going to do it?”

“Send the Gaimosian. He’s used to working alone and that damned arrow didn’t so much as slow him down.”

“He’s too big, can’t hide as well as we can.”

“Just what are we expecting to hide from?” Dorl asked suspiciously.

The dark-haired sell sword shrugged.

Dorl pressed. “We are two men on horseback. That’s not exactly an easy thing to conceal.”

“Boen would be?”

“Don’t turn this around on me. We shouldn’t be out here. We don’t even know where here is!”

Nothol pointed ahead. “Rogscroft proper is that way.”

The entire kingdom was named after the main keep. Rogscroft wasn’t unique in this. Several of the smaller northern kingdoms followed a similar model. First came a castle that grew into a village and eventually a kingdom as a lord’s power and sphere of influence grew. Today Rogscroft was a large area with more than twenty villages and a standing army of three thousand men.

“Rogscroft is that way,” Dorl muttered under his breath. “Did it happen to occur to you that neither of us has been here before and that Stelskor has an army between us and the city?”

“We’re not trying to find the army, Dorl.”

He blinked. “Then what are we scouting for? Goblins? Elves?”

“Signs of the princess.” The answer was matter-of-fact, as if he couldn’t believe Dorl didn’t know.

Dorl paused to regain his composure. “You are a very infuriating man.”

He missed Nothol’s smile.

“How do we know they took the princess this way? They could be anywhere in this miserable country by now.”

“Providing they already cleared the Murdes Mountains,” Nothol suggested.

“Which means they are in league with the Pell Darga.”

A cold wind caught Dorl on the sliver between his neck and cloak, making him shiver violently. He knew, as Nothol must have guessed, that it was more than just the wind that froze his guts. No one in their right minds dealt with the Pell.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Dorl admitted.

Nothol nodded agreement. “The same bad one I’ve has since we agreed to join Bahr.”

“Remind me again why we came.”

“The same reason we always do.”

“Because no one else is good enough to do the job,” Dorl finished, “I’m getting tired of always being the right man for the job.”

Nothol’s dark eyes continued to sweep the area. Shadows diluted the pale moonlight. The landscape before them turned into a virtual nightmare. Enemy could be lurking everywhere.

“Bahr should have stayed on his ship like he told us,” Nothol said quietly. “He has a vested interest in this princess that he is unwilling to tell us.”

“It would be nice to know, but it doesn’t matter. The old man has gotten us this far, let’s hope he can deliver the rest of the way.”

They continued on in silence. The night drew colder. Dawn was close. The sell swords constantly checked over their shoulders, more in the comfort of knowing Bahr and the others were close behind than fear of ambush. Events hadn’t gone as planned, Dorl reflected. Though to be fair they seldom did. Bahr had hoped to sneak in and make the castle undetected. King’s agents had clearly been awaiting them. That knowledge meant Stelskor had a hand in abducting Maleela and killing her brother. Stelskor and his son were fools. Badron wanted blood for the death of his son. The Wolfsreik was strong enough to crush the entire northern lands in a wash of blood and destruction should they be unleashed. Total war would ensue.

Dorl didn’t think for a minute that bringing the princess home was going to stop any of it from happening. The princess. What made her so special Bahr was willing to risk his life and all of theirs? Ideas swirled around, the answer remaining just out of his grasp. There had to be some connection between the two. Otherwise this whole affair was sheer madness.

He glanced at Nothol. “You don’t suppose the old man is some distant relative of hers, do you?”

“Makes sense, I guess.”

“Think about it. Bahr was originally hired to take Ionascu and the others east. Instead he builds a team of his own and struck his own expedition. Why else risk his life? It doesn’t add up, Nothol.”

“Perhaps Badron sent him ahead to scout Rogscroft’s defenses?”

Dorl didn’t believe that for a second. “No. Badron hates Bahr and I think the feeling is mutual. Bahr’s not working for Delranan anymore than we are. And don’t give me that nonsense Skuld tried with the hordes of treasure lost in the mountains. He should have been slapped for bringing it up in the first place.”

“You shouldn’t be so hard on the boy. He’s young and impressionable. There was nothing else for him back in Chadra.”

“He belongs in Chadra. At least it’s safer, and you didn’t answer my question.”

Nothol Coll stopped his horse. He turned on his best friend with a deadpan look. “I think you are asking dangerous questions neither of us is ready to answer. Like Anienam Keiss said, we all have secrets and some need to remain unspoken. Whatever Bahr’s reasons are it is not our place to question. At least not while we are being paid.”

“Do you have to be so pragmatic? I don’t like doubt and right now I have too much of it.”

“What do you really want?” Nothol asked unexpectedly.