Hunted: The Warrior Chronicles #2 (18 page)

T
he path
into the forest was wide and bare of vegetation. Small grasses fought through the trodden dirt, trying to sprout new life, but Cayan had no doubt they’d be ripped out as people passed this way. This wasn’t a path made once and forgotten. People and horses used it regularly, and the tracks a cart made were etched into the land in many places.

“Commander Sanders,” Cayan called.

A foot stomped and a horse grunted in frustration before Sanders was able to get his brown stallion next to Cayan.

“That woman’s horse is crazy!” Sanders barked. He shook his head. “The thing is a menace. If it hadn’t tried to take out the enemy on its own, or had damn good blood lines running through it, I’d say let’s eat it.”

Cayan coughed out a laugh. “I think you might get backlash on that decision.”

“Not from those who’ve been bitten by the bugger. Or Shanti for that matter. She can’t control that thing.”

“She has no experience with horses. She’d be useless on any of them.”

“I can hear that,” her soft, sultry voice said from behind them.

Sanders grunted and let his gaze travel out to his right, taking in their surroundings. Cayan said, “Have you noticed the ground?”

Sanders’ gaze shot to the path they were on before drifting back to the trees. Shadows descended and pooled at the bases of the trunks, masking anything that might be hiding within. “Yup. There are people living in these woods. Parts might be a swamp, but there have to be habitable areas as well, or they wouldn’t have carts coming and going.”

Cayan strained to see in between the reaching branches to pierce the darkness beyond. Shanti’s power flirted with his as she blossomed out to get a sense of their surroundings. His mind drifted with hers, winding into her currents. Almost immediately, that spicy feeling deep in his stomach started to simmer. His power surged and wound tighter within hers, pushing their reach farther.

The minds of animals lit up within the forest. Other minds, distant and watchful, blinked into existence as Shanti and Cayan’s combined power drifted over them. Those Cayan felt seemed anxious. Perhaps they already knew strangers lurked within their midst, even though none of the sentries were close enough to see Cayan’s party.

“People might live here, but those not invited do not leave,” Cayan said softly.

“If anyone has been permitted to leave, they aren’t boasting about it,” Sanders replied. After a moment, he added, “Feels wrong, though. This place feels… off, somehow.”

Cayan nodded as Shanti started reaching, able to
search
farther that way. There were more people off to the distant north-east than anywhere else, but a few dotted all over. Their spacing seemed random, but Cayan suspected it had something to do with the various paths and the number of travelers on any given path. The minds they were feeling seemed sharp as well as watchful. This was an organized effort, which spoke of army. Cayan doubted the locals would invite everyone to join their party, in which case the people on watch could most probably fight.

“Rumors have a way of keeping people away, though,” Sanders speculated as he glanced behind him. He resettled in his saddle. “A good tall tale will keep out most of the thieves and curious passersby.”

“There aren’t rumors so much as missing people,” Cayan said as his and Shanti’s mind reached out behind them. Fear blasted out in sparks, wild and savage, from various minds. Pain often took over, before the mind-path blinked out altogether. “The Graygual are killing their own army.”

Sanders looked at Cayan. “What’s that, sir?”

Cayan felt another mind die, blinking out after a swelling of pain.

Shanti said, “Those men were used in some kind of experiment. That experiment has been carried out. The Hunter no longer has need of his pawns now that he has seen the results. He’s cutting them loose.” Shanti directed her mental gaze back to the area where she’d found the most people.

Sanders grunted and nonchalantly braced his hand on his thigh as he looked forward. “Once upon a time I would’ve found her complete lack of interest in killing one’s own troops cause for alarm. I might’ve worried she’d slit my throat in my sleep. Now that I know she probably will, I find I’m not as concerned.”

“I wouldn’t slit your throat in your sleep, Sanders. I would do it when you were awake. Think of the sport it would be.” Shanti’s voice was colored with humor.

Sanders snorted.

The encroaching night sifted down into the lane, reducing visibility and blending the path into the trees. Cayan mentally counted a cluster of twelve people at the farthest reaches of his and Shanti’s combined power, where the path came to a fork. Both routes were of a similar size, leading out into the trees at a gradual curve left and right. To the left, the emerging blanket of stars twinkled between the treetops. Moonlight shone down, sprinkling the path with soft light. The light haze of fog gave the scene a surreal quality Cayan found strikingly beautiful. A great artist would spend all night trying to capture that play of light as it danced within the haze.

In comparison, the other path looked like a gloomy death trap. Branches stretched over the route, creating a deep and dense ceiling that didn’t allow light to penetrate. Jagged thorns reached across the torn-up ground, stomped and twisted until the darkness swallowed the scene.

“I’d say go right,” Sanders said into the sudden hush.

“I would love to hear why,” came Burson’s voice as his horse moved up through the ranks. The sound of the hooves deadened within the press of the trees.

Sanders gave an irritated glance back before looking at Cayan. Cayan barely nodded for him to go on.

Sanders looked at both paths before pointing at the canopy of the lighter route. “Those trees have been pruned. Look at how they end in jagged stumps. Some are old pruning and starting to regrow, and some are newer. The branches that might’ve reached over the path have been broken and torn away.”

He pointed to the closest example. The ripped-away branch was cast to the side of the trunk. It looked like a new break.

Sanders glanced at the other side. “This path is wild. It grows as it should. No light, no welcome beacon, no promise of safety. Nothing is engineered over here. This would tell a traveler that the path most loved is the left one. He would go that way.”

“But you are suggesting the other way,” Burson said in a sing-song voice.

Sanders jerked his thumb at the ground as he looked behind him. “That’s because I’m not a fool. Look at the chewed up ground to the left. Carts have traveled that path. Horses, people—that path has been used as often as the path we are on. If it wasn’t, it would have weeds all over it. Those who come here often go left. The other path is mostly even. It’s got some scars that look like it’s been brushed or something, but weeds are sprouting up, see? Someone probably comes through when the ground gets wet and messes it up enough that the weeds don’t grow back for a while. And in the interim, they probably pull them as they prune. No, this is a trick to draw the traveler left. I’m almost curious to follow, too, because I want to know what trap awaits.”

“It might be a vicious trap, though,” Cayan tempered.

“I didn’t say I
would
follow it, sir. Just that I was curious.”

“Nice save, Sanders.” Shanti chuckled.

“Then, we’d better go right,” Burson said.

Shanti sighed. “Burson, you don’t fool anyone. You wanted to come through here. You’ve been looking in the direction I’ve sensed people. You know more than you’re letting on—you know which direction we’re supposed to go.”

“Fooled me,” someone said in the back.

Before Burson had a chance to say anything, Shanti continued, “And if you are leading us into a trap, I will kill you. Do you understand me? I don’t care about trust and belief and the war. If you are trying to harm these people, I will rip your throat out regardless of what it will mean to my cause.”

Burson giggled, of all things. “Such ferocity. That Hunter has a lot to ponder this night, I am sure. Yes, right is the correct way.”

“Always with the nonsense,” Sanders muttered as Shanti directed her gaze at Cayan.

She said, “We go right, but who goes first? Him, or one of us?”

Cayan didn’t even have to think. “Him. If there are traps or pitfalls, he’ll avoid them. If he has an ulterior motive, it’ll be revealed in his actions. There aren’t any people this way for at least half a mile—this part of the path isn’t watched. We don’t have to fear an attack.”

“Sir?” Tobias called from the back. “My horse isn’t great in the darkness and I can’t see much up ahead—”

“Apart from horse butts,” someone muttered. Sounded like Rachie.

“—should we get a light?” Tobias finished.

“We should camp here for the night,” Shanti said in a low voice. Or maybe it just seemed low within the oppressive trees. “I have a feeling we’ll meet whoever inhabits this wood tomorrow. I’d rather do it in the daylight.”

S
hanti crawled
out of her sleeping fur into the hard chill of the morning. The thick canopy of trees parted in the center of the clearing, enough to reveal the lightening sky. Shanti brushed her hair from her face as she glanced at the glowing embers nestled within the ash of last night’s fire.

Finding a large enough clearing hadn’t been hard at all. They had been on the path barely a hundred spans before Burson pointed off to the right and announced a nice little clearing that would fit everyone. He entered first, without fear, and pointed out the best areas for horses, fires, and sleeping furs. It didn’t take the Elders to know that he had been along this route before, and he’d slept in that very clearing.

She’d felt Cayan’s mistrust, and his burning need for answers, but Cayan had said nothing. He simply nodded, glanced at her with hard eyes, and organized his men. He must’ve known it wasn’t the time to push for answers—not with so much unknown before them. They couldn’t risk Burson freezing up and turning back into the mindless mute Shanti had first met. They couldn’t risk losing advice on the best ways to make this journey.

Maybe he was waiting for her cue in the matter. It was hard to say.

Shanti was one of the first awake. She quietly made her way through the sleeping, and snoring, men to the young man huddled in a ball within his furs. Shanti knelt by him as Rohnan stirred on his other side, poking his head up and looking at her with the immediately alert eyes of someone who’d been traveling dangerous lands in the last year. Rohnan silently righted himself to a sitting position as Shanti laid a hand on a shoulder.

Marc stirred before sleepy eyes peered out of his bedding. They blinked as he recognized her, then flashed wide open. He scrambled up into a sitting position, looking around wildly.

“What is it?” he asked in a frantic hush. “Are we under attack? Why is everyone sleeping? What’s going on?”

Shanti laid a firm hand on his shoulder. “I wanted to talk to you for a moment about the Hunter. Your head hasn’t been in the right place since you saw him.”

Marc glanced around before his eyes squinted in suspicion. He glanced behind him. His mood turned sullen as he recognized Rohnan. “Your twin seems like a mind-reader. He’s always hanging around me, lately.”

“He doesn’t read minds, but his
Gift
is very potent. He knows what you saw, and can read how you are reacting. As can I. You’re afraid. And that’s okay.” She coated Marc’s mind with comfort, and tried to stitch that feeling into her speech.

“Did you see that guy, though, S’am?” Marc asked in a low, fearful voice. He glanced at the sleeping Xavier not far away. In a lower voice still, he leaned forward and said, “Did you get a look at that Hunter?”

“Yes,” Shanti replied. “The Graygual officers are very special people. Even before their rigorous training, they are the sort of men who have no morals. They can do unspeakable things to others without a hint of shame or remorse. They do not feel like others feel, Marc. They are excellent manipulators, too. They lie and feel out those around them to curb their behavior and get what they want. One moment they might be helping organize a town and keeping the peace—keeping the worst of the Graygual army in check. The next, they might send in their men to rape, pillage and murder to inspire fear. I’ve heard of officers threatening children to get the cooperation of their parents. If they don’t get that cooperation, the child is killed in front of them. This is not programmed into them, this is something they already are. Xandre takes this type of man and turns him into a weapon.”

Marc gulped. “A personality disorder.”

“Yes. It is not a personality that functions well in a civilized society.”

“It works very well in civilized society,” Rohnan cut in softly. “But not in a good way.”

“They are trained,” Shanti went on. “Rigorously trained in mind and body. They are hurt, they are battered, and they are molded into the sort of man who does his job no matter the odds. He does not fail, because failure would be worse than death. He is not afraid of pain, because he has learned to conquer it. And he does not fear for his comrades, because he does not care about them.”