Set in Stone (19 page)

"Unlikely," Shona said. "They have a big head start."

Rory nodded grimly. "Then we drive them out before they can settle in for a siege."

"Why would they want Alasdair?" Connor asked nervously.

"Leverage. Now that Lady Shona's escaped and they're trapped against the mountains, they'll be desperate for bargaining power."

"They said they just want to leave. Can't we just let them go?"

"Nay, lad. They should've thought of that before they invaded and took Lady Shona."

"What casualty count are you prepared to absorb?" Shona asked calmly, as if they were discussing supply logistics.

Rory considered for a few seconds and said, "We need to protect Lord Gavin and his family, and the Cutters of course."

Connor stared from one to the other as he faced the reality of his worst fears. They intended to fight Ilse and her soldiers in Alasdair, and people were going to die.

The truth left him feeling sick. It was his fault. His careless comment had given Ilse the information she needed. They would invade the town because of him.

He had to get to Merkland, had to petition for patronage.

He had to help his family.

Connor stood rooted in place, as his mind whirled and he struggled to decide what to do.

"Did you bring my leathers?" Shona asked Rory.

"Aye." Rory pointed to a pack lying nearby. Shona took it up and started moving away toward the trees.

"I want to help," Connor said, desperate to keep their attention. "I know these mountains."

Shona paused and looked back, but it was Rory who spoke. "You need to get to Merkland, lad. If you miss High Lord Dougal, your life's as good as over."

"I know. It's just, you said he'll be coming this way as soon as he returns to Merkland, right? Can't I see him then?

"He might not arrive in time."

"My family is in Alasdair. I want to help."

One of the other burly soldiers, who had all remained silent until now, spoke up. "Run along, boy. We're going to battle. This is a job for Guardians."

Everyone began turning away, but desperation drove Connor on.

These were Guardians? No wonder his Curse did not scare them. They knew all about it. Didn't they care if he lived? He had to show them he was worth helping.

"How many of you have beaten a Grandurian Petralist single-handedly?"

That got their attention.

"And you have, boy?" The same soldier said mockingly.

"Aye! How do you think Lady Shona escaped?"

Rory turned to Shona, who returned to the group. "How
did
you escape, lass?"

"Stop calling me that," Shona said irritably. "You're not that much older than me."

Rory gave the barest hint of a smile. "It's not the age, miss, it's the experience."

Shona frowned, "You assume much, Captain."

"Perhaps. How did you escape the Grandurians?"

Shona glared at Connor and his heart sank. She said quickly, as if the words were unpleasant, "He's right. He saved me."

The one soldier gave Connor an incredulous look. "Pardon, miss, but what could this boy do that you couldn't?"

Shona shrugged. "I don't remember much. When I tried to tap my strength, I fell. I've been weak all day."

"The effects lasted that long?" Rory asked.

"No. Whatever they used in Merkland wore off in about twelve hours, but they must have given me more."

"You have no idea how they administer it?"

She shook her head. "None, but it's completely debilitating."

So that's why Shona had been such a burden. She'd been poisoned, or something.

Rory turned to Connor. "So how did you rescue Lady Shona from the Petralists?"

"I hit the one guarding her with a rock, and tied her up with my jacket."

"You beat up a girl?" the one soldier laughed.

"She was the scariest woman I've ever seen," Connor said, thinking of the towering Anika. "She'd pound you to dust before you could laugh at her, I promise you that."

Rory barked a laugh, "Well done, lad."

The other soldier asked, "So how'd you get away? You telling us you carried Lady Shona all the way downriver and outran their Wingrunner? You got affinity to basalt?"

What was he talking about?

It didn't matter. They were talking with him, curious and maybe with just a bit of grudging respect. "We floated the river. I even saved her from the Water Moccasin, Kilian."

At the mention of the Water Moccasin, Connor couldn't help but remember Shona clinging to him, their lips pressed hard together in the chill, dark waters of the river. Shona flushed, and he wondered if she was remembering too.

Rory clapped Connor on the shoulder hard enough to make him stagger. "Good job, lad. I've heard of Kilian. Nasty fellow, that one. On behalf of High Lord Dougal, I thank you for saving Lady Shona."

"So, you'll let me come help save my family?"

Rory shook his head slowly. "Can't take the risk, lad. If High Lord Dougal is late, you're dead."

Shona, who now regarded Connor with a thoughtful expression that made him more than a little nervous, spoke up. "There may be another way, Captain. I represent my father until he arrives. I'll grant Connor Patronage."

Could she do that? Would she?

Shona gave him a little smile, and her eyes seemed to weigh him in a way that made him even more nervous.

"I appreciate what you're doing, Lady Shona," Rory said with a frown, "but can you really do that?"

Shona tilted her chin up a little and gave Rory a cool look. "I am a High Lady, and heir to my father's throne."

"Aye, but there's usually more involved in the process."

Shona hesitated. "You're right." Even as the fear rose to choke Connor again, she added, "I will grant conditional patronage until we resolve this conflict. Then we'll bring the matter before my father."

After a moment, Rory shrugged. "That should work."

Connor looked from one to the other. "What does that mean?"

"Prove yourself, lad, and you'll become a Guardian like us," Rory said.

"I will!"

He wanted to shout with triumph! One great weight eased its burden, and he felt giddy with the sense of security that flooded through him. He'd obtained Patronage, at least conditionally, and he'd do whatever it took to prove himself to Rory, and to Shona.

"Prepare your men, Captain," Shona said. "We march when I'm changed."

She disappeared into the trees, and Rory began barking orders. Men assembled into four-man squads and then grouped into twenty-man units.

Within minutes, the company was ready to move. Rory shouted, "Strider, take point."

The slender fellow with the loose-fitting trousers saluted and sprinted for the trees, faster than any man Connor had ever seen. Connor doubted even one of Lord Gavin's mounted guards could have caught him.

Rory noted Connor's surprised look. "Never seen a Strider before?"

Connor only shook his head.

The burly soldier who had teased Connor earlier said, "Well, what's your affinity, lad?"

"I don't know what that means."

"What stone, boy?"

"I don't . . ."

"How long have you known you were Cursed?" Rory asked.

Connor nearly said forever, but caught himself at the last moment. Newborns exhibiting any signs of being Cursed were supposed to be discovered at birth. Teagair would be rescinded, and they'd be taken by the High Lord. Those not showing signs of the Curse as babies generally didn't discover their curse until age ten or twelve. Hence the need for Curse Finders to scour the villages annually.

So he mumbled, "A while."

Thankfully the soldier didn't seem bothered by the vague answer. "So what can you do with this Curse?"

The other leather-armored Guardians drew near. The attention made Connor extremely nervous.

Gathering up his courage, he said, "I hit things."

"That's it?"

"I've only done it a couple of times. I never tried anything else."

"We can explore it tonight when we make camp."

The matter-of-fact way he said it made Connor both excited and nervous. He'd never explored the extent of his Curse before.

"Sir, I know you're Guardians, but some of those Grandurians are Petralists."

"So am I," Shona said from behind him.

Connor turned and gaped. Instead of a silk blouse and skirt, Shona now wore black battle gear like Rory and the other Guardians, but she definitely didn't look like the others. On them, the leather tunic and breeches looked fearsome with their overlapping leather plates linked with myriad straps and buckles whose purposes Connor couldn't fathom.

On Shona, the form-fitting black outfit highlighted her shapely figure in ways that made Connor want to stare despite having been in such close contact all day. She'd re-braided her hair, and wore a determined expression. She looked like she was ready to kill someone.

Connor dropped his gaze as she joined them. Only then did her words register and he looked up again. "You're a Petralist?"

"Aye, she is," Rory said. He gestured toward the five other leather-clad soldiers nearby. "We can handle those Grandurians, don't you worry, lad."

All the amazing tales Bruce had related for years raced through Connor's mind. He looked from Rory to Shona and wanted to laugh with the wonder of it. He couldn't trust Bruce's stories, but here were a couple of the legends in the flesh.

He would have felt more comfortable if Shona wasn't watching him with that unreadable expression of hers, but still blurted out, "Sir, I don't know a lot about Petralists or Guardians. Can you tell me something about what you can really do?"

"Strength, lad. Power to thews and skin."

"That's it?"

Rory laughed. "Wait till you see what we can do."

Connor thought back to Erich and Anika and their amazing strength. Could a Guardian really stand against a Petralist? How were they different? Bruce hadn't spoken much about the Guardians.

Rory added, "You've seen the Strider, and we've got a Pathfinder, of course. Some of the men have secondary gifts with light or healing, but mostly we're all Fast Rollers."

The Healer, who had approached, trailed by his brawny assistant, snorted. "Healing he says. None of you lot could heal a hangnail."

"That's why we have you," Rory said.

Connor wanted to ask more questions, but Rory shouted, "Move out."

As the soldiers began marching upriver, Rory turned to Connor. "You know these lands. I want you to take point and scout ahead."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Shona asked.

Connor was already running for the trail. He didn't move half so fast as the Strider had, but any other man would have been hard pressed to keep up. As Connor raced up the trail, his relief at having obtained Patronage was tempered by growing fear.

What destruction might the Grandurians wreak before Rory's force caught up?

Chapter 18

Jean stepped onto the musicians' platform at the southern end of the square in Alasdair, intensely aware that she held everyone's attention. She allowed a warm smile, but suppressed the foolish grin that threatened to erupt onto her lips and ruin the moment.

The morning had passed in a blur, and her stomach had clenched ever tighter as the moment neared when she and Moira would stand before the entire assembly and sing the Sogail-Oran.

Brightly dressed townsfolk filled the square and gathered around tables that groaned under the weight of mountains of food. Lord Gavin and Lady Isobel oversaw the festival from their raised pavilion, joined by the Curse Finders in their long russet coats over gleaming chainmail shirts.

The brown tunic Lord Gavin wore might be in his house color, but it made him look small and unhealthy. Beside him, Lady Isobel wore a red and gold gown with so many frills and layers of lace it was a wonder she could find her seat. Her face was heavily powdered to cover the burns, she'd drawn fake eyebrows, and she wore a bonnet to hide her hair.