Once We Were Kings (Young Adult Fantasy) (The Sojourner Saga) (2 page)

Oreus lifted his staff.  The orb atop glowed blue and white.  The impostor knew better than to hesitate.  "Would you compound the pain of this betrayal by compelling me to deal with you as I must?"  His eyes now brimming azure pools, Oreus pointed his staff.

"But I am not Lucretia, old fool!"

Stunned, Oreus hesitated.

The impostor let out a feral cry and leapt into the air.  She forced her eyes shut and invoked utter blackness around her entire being.  In one swift motion, she flung the three Shikar razor-stars at Oreus, Timea and Cerbeas.

The first struck and lodged itself into Oreus' forehead.  He let out a roar and fell to the ground, convulsing and howling in pain. 

The second caught Timea in the leg just as he began to transform.  He cried out and fell to one side, trembling and foaming. 

The third grazed Cerbeas just as he completed his equine transformation and flew from the slaughter and bounded clear over the stone wall.

Unhampered by the fetters of a human body, the impostor flew up and looked for him.  But to her dismay the night did not betray her quarry.  Even from this vantage point high above the courtyard, she could not see him, though he had galloped into the night in the form of a mighty stallion.

It mattered not.  Cerberas had been grazed.  If he survived, it would not be for long.  She would simply report that the mission was prosperous.  And this would more than suffice, unless her master condescended to having the bodies counted. 

Alighting on the Great Table of the Ancients, the impostor smiled with satisfaction.  The only remaining testament to their existence would be the carcasses, whatever had not yet been picked apart by vultures.

CHAPTER ONE

Six Months Prior

In the blackest of nights, a fortnight before the seventeenth birthday of a slave named Render, the moon, full and blood-red glared down upon Talen Wood, a ways from the Citadel walls of Valdshire Tor.  Three boys bent upon nothing good approached the lad as he lay down, trying to sleep.  Render’s master—last seen with his beard bathed in drivel—reclined in his chair, a drunken stupor barely veiling his cherry-nosed countenance.

Outside the damp broom closet better known as Render's room, in that fetid cottage in which he and his master dwelled, one of the boys tapped furtively on the wall.

"Render.  Hssst! Render."

"What?  Who's there?" So poor was his vision he could barely see the fingers before his face, for the sands of slumber had encrusted his eyes.

"Come on, Render.  Are you going join us or not?" He recognized the voice of Kaine, his elder brother.  He too was a slave belonging to an old master on the other side of Talen Wood.  Some two years his senior, Kaine led this band of mongrels who, despite all their capers, had always eluded capture.  They were the closest thing to a family he had.

Atop the ledge of the window sat a black cat, not unlike the one he had seen a day or two prior.  It ceased licking its paw and washing its face.  With turquoise eyes, it stared straight into Render's.  Throughout Render's life, black cats appeared frequently, though he had never been able to take one as a pet.   The cat looked over to Kaine and his companions, then back at Render.  It leapt down from the ledge, almost daring Render to follow. 

Kaine appeared in the window and grinned.  "Coming or not, Rend?"

"After last time?  I shouldn't go anywhere with you again."  But something about that cat drew Render's curiosity.  The way it regarded him, as if it knew of something interesting, an adventure or a pirate's chest full of gold and trinkets.  Perhaps a magical sword.

Render stole past his snoring master and out the door.

"Come now, you old tortoise," said Kaine, the oldest of the boys.  He stood at least a head taller than Render.  Kaine brushed his fire-red hair out of his eyes, smiled and slapped a heavy hand onto Render's shoulder.  "Hungry?"

"Do birds fly?" Render's master afforded him but one meal each day, though he toiled without respite in his stables and fields and barnyard from the rising of the sun till dusk.

"Well, they're hungry."  Kaine tossed a glance to Folen and Stewan, the twins.  When they faced each other, they looked like reflections.  Beneath the dirt lay bespeckled cheeks which in the daylight took the hue of apples.   This more than betrayed their tender age of eight years.

How diverse a band. 

Yet one thing bound them in common.  They were orphans, all of them.  And all of them slaves. 

Searing pain like a branding iron scathed Render's back when he stretched his arms to yawn.  Wounds from yesterday's lashing reopened.  He winced and groaned but dared not reach back to touch it.  "You'd better go on without me," he said.  "If Bobbington catches me..."

"On then," Kaine said, raising up fistful of tree branches fashioned into spears.  "I heard dinner grunting by the stream."

  Render's eyes opened wider, though it brought no clearer vision in the gloom. "You don't mean—?"

"A boar," whispered Stewan, excitedly.

"Wild, fat boar."  Kaine handed Render one of his spears.

"Do let's go," Folen said, pulling Render's sleeve.  He held up a glinting dagger which he'd undoubtedly stolen from a traveler who'd taken pity on him, and stopped to give him a piece of bread.

"Yes, do let's," Stewan echoed.

"I don't know."

Kaine leaned down and whispered, "Big. Fat. Juicy boar."

Charging into the wood, Render joined in and let out a mighty cry of ancient hunters.   The thought of fresh meat teased the tips of his tongue.

Less than half an hour later, and arguably twice as hungry and frustrated than before, they returned.  The entire village now lay quiet as a graveyard.  The boar had proven a most crafty beast indeed, and escaped.  Grunting merrily into the bush, it seemed to mock them.

Bested by a pig. 

The shame.

Thankfully, darkness blanketed the night.  Not a soul stirred.  But this did nothing to prevent Render's stomach from making a formidable growl.  At that very moment, amidst Folen and Stewan's giggles, the black cat climbed up onto a barrel just outside the door and mewed.

"Hello," Render said and walked over, with confidence.

"Wait," Kaine whispered.  "Don't frighten it.  We can cook it."

"Not to worry.  I've got a way with cats.  They trust me."  Render took pity on it, however.  It was but a bag of fur and bones.  From deep within his pocket he pulled out a scrap of salted fish, stolen from his master's cupboard, and put it under her nose.

Mroooow!  The cat hissed and scratched his hand.

"Ow!  You horrid little beast!"  A pale beam of moonlight revealed three dark lines growing deeper and wider on Render's hand.  Straight across the oddly shaped birth mark which to him always looked like an ancient symbol.  Like those found in the archeology books he'd liberated from Bobbington's shelves.

Render sucked the salty blood from the wound and glared at the vicious creature.  It sat quite satisfied with itself on its hindquarters.  Glowering down at the dried fish scrap, the cat knocked it off the barrel and into the dirt with its paw. 

Render huffed. "There's gratitude for you."

Laughing and slapping his thighs, Kaine said, "You've got quite a way with cats, indeed."  He raised his spear.

"You're not serious," Render said.

"Quite."  He crouched low, pointed the spear at the cat.  It arched its back, flattened its ears, and with a hiss, bore tiny white fangs.

"Come on, she's hardly worth the effort." Render grabbed Kaine's arm.   Folen and Stewan had raised their spear and dagger as well.

Kaine huffed.  "It nearly tore your hand off, and you mean to defend it?  Stand aside, we're going to have dinner if I have anything to do with it."

"No!"  Render's shout echoed through the hills rousing the barks of several dogs.  A chill ran through his blood when he heard Bobbington snort and awaken inside the cottage.

"Render!  REN - DER!" he roared.  "By the scrolls of Malkor, where are you!"

"Now you've done it," Kaine said and gathered the two younger boys.  "Better run with us."

"And when I return?"  Sweat seeped through the opening in his scabs and burned.  "You know what he'll do to me."

"Suit yourself."  And with that Kaine flew off with the boys.

The door blasted open. 

The cat leapt off the barrel and into Render's arms. 

The sight of Bobbington, his lardy, hairy belly hanging over his pants, and the whip in his fist made Render's hands tremble.  Had he the stature or strength, he might well stand up to the brute.

Render had neither.  Nor did he possess the fortitude to escape for orphaned as a babe and sold as a slave, this was the only home he knew.

"Wretched vermin!" Bobbington said, his foul breath steaming up into the night.  "You dare run?  In the middle of the night?  Have you so soon forgotten the last time you tried?"

The wounds on his back permitted no such relief.  "Sir, I—" 

"And what is that, eh?"

Render glanced down at the warm, furry creature of destruction, sitting in his arms and purring.  "It... it's a cat."

"I can see that, you fool!  Bring it here so that I can gut it and sell its innards to the fiddle maker."

Render turned the cat away from him, as if she might be offended by Bobbington's words.  "What a ghastly thought!"

"It's just a mangy cat.  Bring it here, boy!"

"No!"

That was the moment that changed everything.  Bobbington's lips shook, his right eye twitched.  With great malice, he uncoiled the whip.  Render had been lashed many times before, but now he feared for the cat.

"Go," he said, and placed it on the ground.  "Run!"

Bobbington blinked, his mouth gaping in surprise. "Why you...you insolent little—!  Stand still and receive your due!"

The cat ran a few steps towards the wood, then stopped and turned around.  With its back arched it watched.

"Five lashes now," Bobbington said, "then ten more after I drag you back inside!"

Teeth clenched, eyes unblinking, Render stood there, gazing into Bobbington's inebriated countenance. 

He was prepared. 

Bobbington lifted the handle of his whip, wound back his arm as far as he could without falling. 

Render mustered all his courage.

His shoulders crept up.  His neck tensed.

And then...

He ran.

"What—?"  Bobbington sputtered and lashed out.  But Render was out of reach.  Bobbington, surprised as Render, fell forward landing face first into the dirt. 

The cat flew into the thicket.

Render followed, arms and face clawed by dry branches.  The frigid air seared his lungs as he ran.

Bobbington gave a great shout. "Come back here, boy!"   His heavy footfalls grew nearer.  "I'll flay you and that flea-ridden cat!"  In his condition however, it was doubtful he could ever catch him.  Nevertheless, Render ran faster still.

Letting out a growl befitting a creature many times its size, the cat raced over to the only possible hiding place.

"Not there!"

For lack of a better plan, Render followed.  Straight into the black cave, which neither he, nor Kaine, nor anyone with half a brain dared set foot.

In he charged, following the lunatic cat.

CHAPTER TWO

Pallid moonlight entered from between the vines which dangled over the cave's mouth like the fingers of a hag.  Sliding his hand along the rough, damp wall, Render continued to step deeper inside.  The air hung thick and old.  It reeked of moss and other decaying things which he hoped not to discover.

"Boy!"  Bobbington's voice boomed into the cave.  Again he called, but this time a bit quieter.  "Render?"

Just then, something rather large and heavy brushed past Render's hand.  He gasped and braced himself against the cave wall as the firm, sinewy form, covered with bristly fur pressed up against him.

He saw nothing, but felt the creature's warmth and heavy footfalls thumping ahead.  Then, the rumble of a deep growl filled the entire cave, like that of a great lion or bear.  A cold tingle danced up Render's back.

"If...if you think this is amusing...." Bobbington's voice broke.  "You'd best quit this foolery right now and come out."

He dared not move.

The growl started again.

"What in all that is—?  Render come out at once!"

Render's heart pounded so loud in his ears he feared it would betray him.  Just when he could stand it no longer, the growl sprang up into a terrible roar.

Bobbington let out a girlish scream. 

A mad rush of leaves and branches. 

His quickly fading cries.  

Bobbington fled.  Faster than one could have imagined, considering his weight and condition.

With his ear turned to the cave's entrance, Render listened to the roar once again echoing into the wood.  Whatever beast had frightened Bobbington away would surely return for Render.

And the cat.

Where was that foolish little animal, anyway?