The City of Pillars (14 page)

She leaped at the last man. He gripped his sword with two hands. However, the power he gained with the technique slowed him. Andrasta swayed, ducked, then shifted in three quick movements. She turned her blade up and rammed it into the man’s chest. It crunched through ribs. He gasped, choked on a rush of blood, and died.

Spinning quickly, she finished the last opponent.

Safe from her attackers, she listened and heard nothing. Her head swiveled about the area expecting those who had attacked Rondel to emerge.

A raspy, defiant yell cried out. She ran toward it.

* * *

One minute Rondel dreamed things he’d be embarrassed to share with just about anyone, dreams he hoped would come true with Shadya. The next minute the dream ended, interrupted by what he thought had been a shout of his name. An intense burning in his chest that made his skin ache followed.

Despite the deep sleep he had been in moments before, he woke without the grogginess he usually felt. And that was why he didn’t move a muscle.

“Learn to trust your instincts,”
he could hear Andrasta say.

He cracked an eye.

Dim red coals smoldered several feet away. Wisps of smoke crawled upward into a clear night sky. Starlight gave him the light he hoped to have from the fire. Looking past the coals, he saw Andrasta missing from her spot.

Yet, there’s a smell of sweat in the air.

A faint scrape of something against the bark of a date palm near their camp reached him. It was low, barely audible.

Thank the gods I still have the ears of a musician.

He reminded himself that he needed to thank Andrasta yet again as he wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his short sword. It lay at his side per her suggestion. He began flexing and relaxing his muscles beneath his clothes in order to work some blood into his still limbs.

Daring to crack his eye-lid wider, he saw a black silhouette appear. The figure wore a silver crescent on the sleeves of his shirt, a mirror image of the moon above. He held a withdrawn scimitar.

A small whimper came from behind, almost like a whisper in his ear. He realized it was Shadya dreaming, oblivious to the danger creeping toward them.

Probably for the best. But how to do this? If I attack too soon, I’ll give up my advantage of surprise. If I wait, someone else could be creeping up from the other side. And if Shadya wakes at any point and screams, it will ruin everything.

A tiny glint from above, just at the corner of his peripheral made his decision. It was too low, too bright to be a star in the sky.

There is another.

He swung up, sword still in it’s sheathe while arcing through the air. A wide-bladed scimitar, twice the size and twice as intimidating as his short sword sailed down at Shadya’s still form. Weapons clashed in an odd clacking sound as Rondel deflected the blow. The scimitar thudded into the ground just inches from Shadya.

He rose to his knees, grabbing her by the arm. Eyes wide and body rigid, he pulled, but it was as if she was frozen in place. Then he was too.

He recognized the tingling sensation crawling across his skin and the pressure all around him.

Sorcery. Which one?

The man whose weapon he had deflected, met his eyes and smiled through a coarse, black beard. “Now you die beside the abomination you protect.”

His sword swept up, but paused as a low, gurgling, growl came from the other side of shrubbery outside the clearing. A man screamed in what sounded like his last breath. The man with the scimitar looked over his shoulder in alarm.

Rondel had control of his body once more.

Andrasta must have killed the sorcerer.

Shadya cried out and scooted backward. The move grabbed the attention of the man before them. Rondel stabbed, but his opponent stepped aside. His eyes flicked behind Rondel.

The other figure!

Rondel dropped as a blade whooshed over his head. He rolled. A sword struck the earth. He rolled again at least a half dozen more times with a stab at the ground crunching behind him. After the sixth roll, he was near the dying fire. He thrust his blade into the embers and flipped them at his opponent. Ashes took to the air.

The man waved his hand wildly, stepping away.

Rondel got to his feet. Shadya shuffled back across the clearing as the second attacker moved toward her. The two cursed violently at each other.

Rondel stepped in her direction but the other man blocked his path, blinking rapidly. Rondel lunged, intent on ending him quickly. However, his opponent managed to parry the attack and counter.

He could have pressed and had me off balance.
The man blinked again.
But he’s still suffering.

Rondel attacked again with the same result.

He tried a third time with a flurry of cuts and thrusts, but none found their mark. He began to panic about Shadya. He thought of calling out for Andrasta, but became aware of distant sword fighting.

She’s already busy.

A human-like moan rose in volume until it ended in what sounded like a lion roar. Athar came crashing into the open and barreled into the man chasing Shadya. Somehow the awkward beast found an agility Rondel had no idea it possessed, dodging a blow and trampling the swordsman.

“That’s not something you see every day,” he muttered.

Wearing a desperate look, his opponent came at him hard, scimitar dancing in the starlight.

Rondel ducked, weaved, parried, and even came close to praying in order to survive the assault. The man possessed skill he had rarely seen. He wouldn’t be able to survive much longer.

“When you can’t show strength, feign weakness.”

He found hope in another of Andrasta’s sayings. If there was one thing he knew he could do, that was appear weak. He breathed tiredly, lazily deflecting blows and stumbling backward. His opponent attacked harder, sensing victory.

Rondel’s free hand slid behind his back, his shortened fingers awkwardly clutching the hilt of a small dagger. He winced making the movement appear as though he had a cramp.

His attacker lunged, over committing himself. Rondel barely deflected the move as the edge of the scimitar raked across his forearm. He stuck his foot out, tripping the man. His free hand came around holding a dagger which he plunged into the man’s upper back at his spine.

His opponent screamed and fell. Rondel finished him off with a stroke to the back of the neck. Movement sounded from behind. Rondel cursed at the thought of facing more men.

Andrasta emerged into the clearing. She carried a sword dark with blood.

“I could have used your help,” said Rondel.

She glanced at the dead man by his feet. “Seems like you managed.”

“Barely. They were good. Really good.”

Andrasta nodded. “So were the ones that I killed.”

“Ones? Always have to show off, huh?”

Andrasta offered a rare grin, a welcome reprieve from her perpetual scowl as of late.

He spun, realizing he hadn’t been able to check on Shadya since the attack. She stood next to Athar, stroking the camel’s long neck, pausing at a patch of missing hair near the beast’s upper chest. She whispered something in the animal’s ears.

He faced Andrasta. “Any idea who these people were?”

“Hubul’s Host,” said Shadya, walking to them, her voice low.

Rondel frowned. “Could there be more waiting?”

Shadya shook her head. “They would have all attacked at once.”

“I’ll not take any chances,” said Andrasta. “You two stay here.”

* * *

Andrasta returned to camp after scouting. She noticed the bodies missing. Rondel had dragged them far away from the watering hole. Seeing there was evidence of a third attacker puzzled her as she had only seen two bodies before.

“There’s no one else in the area,” she announced, scowling as Shadya warded Rondel’s injured arm while they huddled on a blanket.

“Are you sure?” asked Shadya. “They’re very skilled.”

“I’m sure.”

“I only ask because they did manage to sneak up on us—” the woman started.

Andrasta’s scowl deepened.
Are you blaming me, whore?
“Yes, it seems like some sort of warning wards would have helped.”

Shadya said nothing.

Andrasta continued. “I found where they entered camp, including their mounts a half mile to the east. I tethered them over there,” she pointed. “There are no others.”

Rondel must have felt the tension as he gestured to Andrasta’s side. “You’re wounded.”

“I’m fine.”

“Shadya is almost done, she can—”

“I said I’m fine.”

Rondel narrowed his eyes. “I’ll look at it then when Shadya’s finished with me.”

“I can do it myself.”

“Probably, but I
want
to look at it.”

Though Andrasta wanted to protest further, the truth was that she didn’t feel like struggling to stitch the thing herself, and the fact that he was adamant about helping made her feel like all was not lost between them.

“All right.” She sat across from them and nodded toward the third trail she noticed earlier. “I only saw two bodies before.”

“There was a sorcerer hiding in the bushes,” Rondel said. “He had us bound until Athar killed him.”

Andrasta flicked her gaze to the smug-looking camel, then to Shadya. “Did you train Athar how to protect you?”

“No. He’s just loyal.”

“A loyal
camel
who not only killed two people on its own, but one of which was a sorcerer that managed to incapacitate the two of you? I don’t know any dogs that could have pulled off something like that.”

“Athar is not a
dog.
He’s far more intelligent,” Shadya said.

Too intelligent.

“Have either of you talked about why Hubul’s Host tried to kill us?” asked Andrasta

“No,” said Rondel.

What in the name of the gods is wrong with him? For a moment after the fight he almost seemed his old self again. Even joking. Now, he’s back to being an idiot.

“So, let’s talk about it. Why were they trying to kill us?”

“I thought that would be obvious,” said Shadya.

“Enlighten me,” said Andrasta.

“They know we seek the mask and they want to stop us before we get close enough to steal it.”

“That doesn’t seem very obvious when you told us that they didn’t know that you survived their attack on your family’s camp.”

“That
is
strange,” added Rondel.

Shadya shrugged. “They still knew someone was following them. I’m sure they presume we’re after the mask. I mentioned before they have several sorcerers among them, one of which is very powerful. Any time I’ve had to perform a divining to learn their location, I open paths that allow them an opportunity to sense us as well.”

“What!” shouted Andrasta. “You didn’t say that before. How can we maintain any level of surprise if you’re letting them know where to find us?”

Shadya narrowed her eyes. “There was no other way. How else do you suggest we find highly skilled soldiers and sorcerers who are used to staying hidden?”

“I understand your point,” said Rondel in a much calmer tone. “But Andrasta’s right. You should have told us what was going on so we were ready for an attack like this.”

She bowed her head. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Regardless, the simple fact that they knew we sought their location more than once was likely enough for them to guess our intent.”

“Makes sense,” said Rondel as if the answer left no question of doubt.

“No. It doesn’t,” said Andrasta. She ignored the looks cast her way. She jabbed an index finger at Shadya. “Those I fought called you an abomination. And we were to die because we were helping you. That makes their attack not something of precaution. It makes it planned and calculated. It ties it to their beliefs. They were here to kill
you
. Why else would they send so many men, one a sorcerer, to take down three otherwise insignificant people? You need to start giving me better answers because unlike him, I’m not in love with you.”

Rondel turned red-faced and started to protest. A slight touch from Shadya calmed him.

Making my point for me.

“It’s all right. I have been holding back information from both of you. I’m sorry.” Shadya had the wherewithal to at least look ashamed. Rondel appeared hurt from her admission.

Thankfully.

“What have you held back?” he asked.

“The stakes. You see, this mask isn’t just something that once belonged to my family. It’s an item of great power.”

“Let me guess. It gives one the power of a god?” asked Andrasta. “We’ve done that before. It’s not something I want to do again.”

“No. This isn’t something that magnifies sorcery or even something that allows certain attributes of their god to be bestowed on them like what Rondel said you faced in Iget. The mask makes the wearer an actual god who would be able to straddle the human world and the heavens.”

“I thought you said the Host was filled with fanatics, sworn to Hubul. Why would they seek to use the mask? Wouldn’t it betray their god?” asked Andrasta.

“I agree,” said Rondel. “That doesn’t sound like the stories I know.”

“Their new leader, a man named Captain Melek, is much different than his predecessors,” said Shadya. “He wants to use the power of the mask personally. My family knew we needed to protect it from falling into his hands.”

“Why didn’t you tell us this before?” asked Rondel, looking hurt and confused.

“Because.” Her lips quivered. “I thought that if you realized the greater risk involved, you’d no longer help me.”

Rondel put an arm around her as tears streaked down her cheeks.

Oh, you’re good. Lie and trick us both and still he comforts you.

“I think I speak for us both,” Rondel said as he made eye contact and nodded at her, “by saying that we’re not going anywhere. Right?”

Andrasta snorted. “Yeah, sure.”
At least not now.
“When can you perform another divining?”