Set in Stone (13 page)

Connor frowned and looked away.

How could she know?

No one, not even his family, knew of the game trail he'd found around the supposedly impassable face of Mount Ingram not a month ago. He'd followed the tiny track across the steep slope where a single miss-step would have plunged him three thousand feet to his death. He'd turned back after reaching a wide plateau that offered ready access down to the lower slopes on the Grandurian side.

He could show Verena the way. Would she leave? Erich scared him, but surely she wasn't any kind of a threat.

Then again, once they knew the way, would they kill him and bring more raiders back across the border to attack the town? Every story he'd ever heard about the Grandurians made him suspect the worst.

He looked into her huge blue eyes, and found that he could not believe the stories applied to her. He could show her, but he needed to race for Merkland. His life would be forfeit if he failed to secure Patronage by the end of the Sogail. But how could he leave two Grandurians wandering around alone? They might kill someone.

As he struggled to decide, he turned and looked out over the river. His eyes fell on the odd earthen wall that the barge had crashed into. Realization struck and he couldn't help but ask, "You made that wall, didn't you?"

Verena nodded.

"How?"

"I show you," she said excitedly, her eyes glowing brighter. She said to Erich, "Secure the boat first."

He crossed to the barge and grabbed a towline. With some effort, he turned the heavy boat and towed it back to shore. Verena stooped and picked up a small rock at the point where the wall met the shore.

The earthen wall collapsed. Water splashed high as the river flooded into the space where the wall had stood. It was simply gone. Connor retreated a step from the river and stared in amazement.

At the edge of the water, Erich stooped and grabbed hold of the heavy crossbeam set across the bow of the boat. He blew out a breath and with a grunt, heaved. The muscles of his neck stood out in sharp detail, and his arms and shoulders swelled with the effort.

He lifted the boat. The entire front end of the barge, which was still stacked with heavy sacks of granite powder, came clear of the water. Erich's legs sank in the mud of the bank, but he did not seem hindered by that or by the incredible weight. With short, careful steps, he dragged the barge high up the bank. There he sagged against the bow as if completely exhausted.

Connor gaped. Erich looked tough, but Connor had grown up surrounded by men as tough as the granite they quarried. Not even the three strongest men in Alasdair together could have lifted that barge.

The stories of the Grandurians hadn't said anything about their incredible strength. As Erich pushed himself away from the barge, a fresh shiver of fear rolled down Connor's spine. This man could crush him if he chose.

Beside him, Verena stood bouncing the rock on her palm. "I love watching him do stuff like that."

"How is it possible?"

"I am Rumbler, that how," Erich said.

Before Connor could ask another question, Verena held up the stone and said, "Slate, touched by a Builder. I call it a Wallstone."

"A Wallstone?" Connor repeated softly, eyes glued to the little rock. He couldn't comprehend how it worked, but the wonder of it pushed aside some of his fear.

"Lady," Erich hissed. "No talk about this."

Verena huffed, "It's my rock. I'll talk about it with whomever I choose." She held it to her ear and shook it, as if she could hear some sound it made. "This has power for one, maybe two more walls." She extended it to Connor. "You show us how to cross the mountain, and I'll give it to you."

Connor took the rounded rock and ran his hands across the smooth, dark green slate. It looked completely unremarkable, barely filling his palm. He stared from it to the grounded barge. These people were foreign in so much more than their nationality.

"How did you get here?" he dared ask.

"It's a long story."

"I love stories."

"Later," Erich growled. "Need go home."

"He's right," Verena said. "All that matters is getting home before something bad happens."

Was that a threat? What would they do if he refused? Would they kill him and look for another victim? Would they attack Alasdair and kill his family?

He couldn't risk it.

"I'm heading for Merkland," he offered. "I could take you there and help you find the pass to Granadure."

Erich hissed when he mentioned Merkland, and Verena shook her head. "I told you, we can't go that way."

"Much fight there," Erich said, gripping the hilt of his sword. "Much kill."

"We don't want any trouble," Verena added.

Connor retreated a step from the hulking soldier and mental images of the powerful man wreaking terrible destruction in Merkland. High Lord Dougal's fighting men lived there, but could they stand against so powerful a foe?

The Curse Hunters had to arrive in Alasdair for the Sogail. He'd have to risk the attempt to petition them when Lady Isobel wasn't around. He could get these Grandurians out of Obrion, and still secure Patronage.

It's what a Guardian would do.

Connor made his decision. "I know a way around Mount Ingram. I'll show you."

"Done." Verena gave a little clap of excitement. "I knew you could help us." Then she added, "Be careful with that stone. When you drop it, it'll make a wall."

Connor tucked it into his belt pouch. "Thanks."

"Come." Verena took his arm and led the way into the pine trees lining the west bank of the river, and turned downriver. Erich trailed close behind Connor.

"Hold on, the path is upriver."

"I know, silly. We have to fetch the others first."

"Others?"

Of course there would be others. It made no sense for just two Grandurians to wander all this way. But how many others? How'd they get lost in the first place? What were they doing way out here?

They followed a narrow trail a couple hundred yards downriver while Connor's doubts grew. He liked walking so close to Verena, but she was Grandurian, so maybe she wasn't as nice as she pretended. Firelight shone in the darkness through the trees, and a moment later, Verena led them into a clearing with a modest campfire around which sat more than a dozen men, and a couple of women.

Most of the men were soldiers wearing chainmail coats painted black over black leather jerkins, with swords or axes swinging from their belts.

It's a war party
, Connor realized.
What have I gotten myself into?

He stopped in his tracks, but Erich propelled him forward with one hand in the center of his back. There was no going back, so Connor strode into the firelight beside Verena with feigned confidence.

Everyone turned to stare. The soldiers could have all passed for brothers. They were tall, broad-shouldered, with wide, rugged faces, close-cropped blond hair and blue eyes. They watched Connor with unreadable expressions.

On one side of the fire, a woman wearing a brown linen dress sat beside a whip-thin fellow with a pinched face. He bounced slightly up and down as he sat. Another woman, wearing a long, blue dress, stood off to one side of the group in the deeper shadows farther from the fir. She wore her black hair pulled back, and her eyes glittered with an inner fire as she looked at him.

Erich moved up beside Connor and said something loudly in a harsh, guttural tongue. A tall, shapely woman rose and called out something in reply and laughed. Her voice was rich and smooth. She wore her thick, blond hair tied in a braid that fell to her waist, and she dressed in black leathers like Erich. They looked a lot alike, and had to be siblings.

Another woman rose from where she sat at the far side of the fire and drew Connor's gaze as she approached. Slender, with raven-black hair, she shared the same bright blue eyes as most of the men, and dressed in the same black leathers as Erich and his sister.

She had to be a full Linn or noble-born Meur, although Connor had no idea if the Grandurian classes were equivalent to those in Obrion. Her face was strong and she walked with confidence. Connor couldn't guess at her age. She wasn't old, but wasn't young either.

Erich saluted smartly. She nodded a reply, looked to Verena, who grinned and made a little bobbing motion that might have been some kind of curtsy, and finally turned her piercing gaze on Connor.

"What have you brought us, Verena?"

Verena, still holding Connor's arm, gave it a squeeze. "This boy is going to show us the way across the mountain."

The soldiers around the fire did not outwardly react, but tension seemed to drain from them. The thin, nervous fellow jumped to his feet, but slowly sat again at a gesture from the woman seated beside him.

The woman facing Connor smiled and extended a hand and shook with a firm grip. "Very good. What is your name, boy?"

Again with the boy?

It had to be a problem with translating from Grandurian.

"Connor."

"I am Ilse, captain of this company."

Captain? She looked tiny compared to the warriors. How was it possible? Granadure must be a strange place.

"Where is this trail?" Ilse asked without preamble.

Before he could reply, the flap of a nearby tent he hadn't noticed before whipped aside and a young woman marched out, past a pair of soldiers stationed to either side. She strode into the firelight and made straight for Connor.

He stared, transfixed.

Her figure was trim, but fuller than Jean's or Verena's. Her features were delicate, with high cheekbones, finely arched brows, a small nose, and a long, graceful neck. She wore her long blond hair braided. She was clearly noble-born, and looked to be close to his age, probably Leigeil-Meur. She wore an indigo silk blouse that clung to her figure, a black skirt that extended to mid-calf, and sturdy hiking boots. She looked nothing like the other Grandurians.

She stopped barely a pace away, her eyes never leaving his face. His heart began to beat faster and his palms to sweat.

"You are a local?"

He could have listened to her rich voice all night.

"Yes, ma'am," Connor said, eager to please this lady.

"And you have promised to show these invaders how to escape our lands?"

Connor nodded slowly, but realized then how foolish he'd been to agree to anything the Grandurians wanted.

"Why would you betray me?"

Chapter 11

Connor couldn't imagine what to say as the young woman's hazel eyes filled with tears on the verge of flowing freely down her smooth cheeks. In that moment, she looked completely vulnerable, and he felt like he could see right into her soul. The hurt he saw there nearly broke his heart.

How could he have done such a terrible thing?

He'd had no idea agreeing to show the Grandurians a way through the mountains would hurt her so, but he cursed himself for it anyway.

Connor fell to his knees before this lady and shook his head. "No. I didn't mean it."

Verena, who had stood forgotten close beside him, snorted and said, "Oh, please."

The other woman ignored Verena, leaned forward and placed a hand on his head, as if in blessing. She slid her finger tips down along his cheek, almost in a caress. "I believe you. It was unfair of them to do this to you."

Connor could barely breathe. He wanted to nod in agreement, but didn't dare move his face with her fingers still touching his skin. His cheek seemed to burn at her touch and his heart beat so fast it was a wonder she could not hear it from where she stood over him.

"I am Shona." She glanced at Ilse and said. "I am their captive."

"Enough," Ilse said. "Very nice performance, Shona, but it changes nothing."

"We shall see." Shona gave Connor a reassuring smile and said, "Remember your allegiance."

Ilse called out in a loud voice, "Break camp. We march in five."