The Lords of Valdeon (46 page)

"Basilio, the Heir is at the airship port! Follow in the launch."

He jumped out of the vessel, vaulting over the heads of a handful of farmers. Wolf ran at full ranger speed toward the structure in the distance. The grass was wet beneath his feet. In his haste, the drops of dew could not touch his boots. The Jalora stirred within him. It was unsettled and angry. Images of murdered innocents were coming at him in a dizzying frenzy. He kept his focus on the Lion's heartbeat, using it as a compass.

The small port stood against the dark horizon. He was fast approaching a short rock wall separating field from road when he saw them. Strange soldiers dressed in unfamiliar armor circled about a group of unarmed farm boys. Swords drawn, the soldiers closed in for a tighter circle about their victims.

"I make necklace from your ears and send to your friend the Lion." Their leader, a hideous-looking man with long, blood-stained braids, tugged at a gruesome necklace of leathery flesh around his own neck. "You see. Just like mine."

The other soldiers moved in perfect unison, sweeping their swords at the boys. These were no mercenaries or common thieves. They were well disciplined and schooled in the art of intimidation. The strange soldiers, however, were not infallible. None of them noticed Wolf standing a few feet behind their line. The stench of their bodies was horrid. Best to have done with them quickly.

His blade swept through the invader bodies swiftly, not dissuaded by their blood-stained armor. Wolf's Dance of Death didn't stop until he faced the last soldier, the same blaggard who'd made disparaging remarks about the Lion. He flicked his blade twice. The villain's ears fell to the ground. Then Wolf parted his head from his foul shoulders. He wiped his blade upon the man's cloak and sheathed it.

The islander boys, brothers from their shared copper hair and pale skin, stood in a circle surrounded by blood. Casting worried looks toward Wolf, they seemed to be more afraid of him than they'd been of their armored enemies. He listened intently to their conversation as he examined the bodies of the strange new evil which had arrived upon their shores.

"I’m telling you, he's a ranger." The eldest of them hushed his brothers. "If he asks us, we’ll have no choice. He'll make us tell him where Seth has gone."

Wolf crossed the distance in seconds to tower over the shorter islanders. "You will tell me of Leo and his son."

"Yes, sir." Their eldest snapped a hasty salute. The young man's hair may have grown and his weapons been left behind, but he couldn't be rid of the military training he'd been given. Clearly, he'd served in the UR army recently. Good. It would save time.

"How do we know we can trust him, Tom?"

"Shut your mouth, fool! This ranger is a Deacon. He can read your thoughts."

It wasn’t exactly true. Wolf couldn't read their thoughts word for word, though the legion didn’t go out of its way to correct this common belief. Criminals were more likely to confess if they believed a ranger could read their very thoughts. In truth, an individual's images and memories came to a ranger when he probed a person’s mind. The gift was invaluable. Wolf stared at Tom and began to probe his memory.

"Why do you reckon this stranger is so interested in Seth?" One of the brothers clutched at Tom's sleeve. "First Fergus McCloud turns out to be Pavel something-or-other, and now this ranger shows up."

"Hush, Patrick! I'll do the talking."

Wolf stopped his probing abruptly and lifted Patrick up by the waistcoat front. "Pavel Sandor was here on the island?"

"Aye!" Patrick kicked and struggled, but Wolf's hold was firm. "He pretended to be Seth’s uncle. Constable McTavish had him locked up and was killed for his trouble. Pavel what's-his-name murdered him."

This was unexpected news. The Tslavic court had professed innocence in their princess's disappearance. Dragon had facilitated a meeting between the Sacred Guard and Tslavia's crowned prince, Bearer of the Gargoyle Ring. They'd accepted the word of their enemy, because he was a ranger and a man of honor. Now it appeared they'd all been fooled. Some faction of the Tslavic court knew of the Lion, but why keep him hidden? Why not kill him outright?

"Where is the young Lion? I will not ask again."

The brothers charged toward Wolf, but a deadly force blocked their path. Basilio flicked his lantern open. Bright light burst from the crystal chamber. Dropping it to the ground, he growled a fierce battle cry. His anger could be fierce and his visage terrifying. Fists and legs knocking the young men easily away, he pulled his weapon.

"Stand down, squire. These boys are friends to the young Lion."

The redheads regarded Basilio with keen interest. Wolf probed the young man he held in his grip. Their brother, the youngest of them, had gone off with the Lion as his squire. No wonder they found Basilio so fascinating.

"He and my brother have gone to hide among the wool upon the lifts. They plan to stow away onboard the ship headed to Larkspur." Tom stared at Wolf's hand holding his other brother; his eyes were riveted upon the Wolf Ring glistening in the lantern light.

"You know this ring. You know I am a Lord of Valdeon."

Tom nodded. "We will do as you say, sir."

"Warn the men who search for Sandor quickly." Wolf let the full power of his voice wash over the young man. "Sandor is known as the deadliest killer in all of Andara. A death sentence was placed upon his head years ago. No cell can hold him."

Wolf let the young farmer loose and started toward the airship port. The steady beat of the young Lion's heart was stronger now. He could almost hear it beating beside the warehouse where the boy crouched. Danger was coming toward him. It was unclear if he was aware of the many Dirge about to descend upon his hiding place.

"You’ll help Seth, sir. Won’t you?"

"It is my duty to do so." Wolf turned to look upon their worried faces. "The Jalora’s blessing upon you and your family for your kindness to the Lion."

Then Wolf called to him his full power. He dissolved into the night. One thought. One goal pushed him forward. Protect the Lion.

Chapter Forty-Three

Seth and Riley knelt down behind an empty barrel at the corner of the warehouse. The everyday shouts and bustling upon the docks were absent. Sailors from the cargo ship pulled frantically at the ropes, while one of their armed comrades guarded them as they worked. They were anxious to escape the violence invading Marianna with as much eager urgency as Seth and Riley. Above their heads a large platform carrying bolts of wool lifted slowly up. They used the pulleys to swing the cargo over the cliffside toward the ship's waiting crew. The wool was almost loaded despite the violence that had taken place at the docks. They'd have to hurry if they were to sneak on board without being seen.

"Get ready to run, Riley. We'll have to stay close to the warehouse walls, but I think we can make the closest bundle without being seen."

Riley grunted. His curly head fell upon Seth's back and then rolled to land in the mud. Seth twisted in his crouch and brought his finger to Riley's neck. A steady heartbeat pounded slowly beneath his fingertip.

Strange humming came from the shadows. Soft at first, the hums grew to a painful wail. The sound grated on Seth's ears, forcing his fear to the forefront. Three of the shrouded creatures floated under the flickering light of the port torches. Boney fingers pulled off their cowls, exposing stalks of thinning white strands hanging limply from their gray-blue scalps. Old sores and tainted bits of flesh covered their faces and hands. What evil had created such monsters?

"Riley! Get up. We have to run!"

His words sparked a fresh song from the loathsome creatures. They opened their maws wide. The sight of their hideous mouths froze his blood. Two rows of sharp, jagged teeth lined their jaws. Built for eating flesh and bone, they looked well used. Black orbs fixed upon Seth with fevered hunger.

He stood, pulling his sword. Seth moved between them and his fallen friend. They couldn't run this time. He would have to face these creatures on his own. Seth struggled to keep his fear in check. This was a fight he couldn't afford to lose.

"Stand away from him, creatures of evil!"

A man's voice shook the very walls about them with its power. The barrel they'd hidden behind lifted up upon the waves of sound and energy. It hurled back to the ground, smashing in pieces.

The Dirge turned as one with an angry wail to face the intruder interrupting their meal. His sword was too quick. The blade cut diagonally with a deadly flourish. Pieces of dried fabric and rotting flesh fell to the mud in a perfectly formed line. Standing in the first stance of the Dance of Death was a ranger. The golden emblem of the Jalora Legion blazed from the ash chest of his tunic. Silver peppered his short, dark hair. Intense eyes kept their focus upon Seth.

He was Valdeonian, but was he the traitor ranger? Seth had never experienced such power or seen the skill this stranger used with such ease. It would be impossible to escape him. He wouldn't try with Riley unconscious upon the ground.

"You are unharmed, yes?" The ranger stepped over the gruesome line to stand before Seth. "I am called Wolf."

The ranger slowly sheathed his sword and stretched his hands hip-wide in a calming gesture. He extended his left hand to show Seth his Heart of the Warrior Ring. Movement within its dark blue depths made the Lion Ring stir. The Wolf's head inside the stone swiveled to regard him. It seemed to be waiting for something.

Seth extended his own ring. The Lion's head's reaction was immediate. It looked upon the Wolf. Tendrils of energy reached out from Seth's ring to circle about the ranger. The Wolf's ring returned the energy, drawing their hands closer together. Wolf smiled, and his eyes moistened.

Then the ranger's fingers touched Seth's hand. The Jalora's power sparked between them, pulling Seth into a world of misty images. He saw Wolf lifting two little boys, his sons, in his arms. A beautiful woman with a kind face came to kiss him. The mists shifted. Wolf was marching before a large company of other rangers in a room filled with gold and glass. The assembled crowd bowed as Wolf walked past. The power released them. Wolf seemed as startled by the exchange as Seth.

"The Jalora has sent me to help you, Seth. I am to take you to safety and continue your training."

Seth nodded, knowing without a doubt he could trust the Wolf. Dante had been right. This ranger was a man of honor and someone who could keep them safe. He wasn't the traitor ranger. Seth's existence seemed to have been a surprise for him as much as it was for Leo.

A man moved out from behind Wolf. He must have been waiting there silently for some time. The man was also Valdeonian. He was dressed in a black uniform with a small golden Wolf's head on his collar. Kneeling down beside Riley, he began running his fingers through the red curls.

"This is my squire, Seth. He will help your young friend."

"How is he, sir?"

Wolf's hand came to grip his shoulder. It felt solid, like a strong pillar he could lean against. Calming instantly, Seth's heart slowed into a steady beat. His breathing eased and his fear left him.

"He was struck upon the head, Lion. I see no stab wounds. He will recover soon." Wolf's squire put a strong-smelling vile under Riley's nose. "Stand out of the mud, boy."

Riley grumbled as the Wolf's squire helped him to his feet. He rubbed at his head, but seemed unharmed otherwise. Seth was grateful for their luck. They'd have to be more careful in the future. Danger would follow them now.

"A Marianna squire is not an acceptable choice for the Lion. No doubt my lord will correct this egregious error quickly." The Wolf's squire frowned at Riley. "You will be well fit enough in a short while, boy. It would be best for you to go back from whence you came."

"Here now! I'll not be leaving my ranger. I don't care who says what," Riley grumbled, leaning against the wall. It would turn into a fight in a moment, and this time Riley wouldn't win.

"We will discuss such things later, aboard my ship." Wolf frowned at their squires and then turned to Seth again. "More Dirge coming. We must see you to safety."

Dirge. It was a proper name for the foul creatures. Seth looked into the direction Wolf was facing. He didn't see anything, just an empty row and fields beyond. This ranger must have incredible powers Seth hadn't begun to guess at yet.

Then Wolf swept around Seth, pulling his sword. The low hums of the Dirge was a noise Seth was quickly growing to dread. Ten of the hideous creatures emerged from the shadows. Wolf stood between him and their hungry maws.

"Go! Take your squire and run."

"What about you? I can’t leave you to face them alone!"

Wolf pushed Seth forward. The ranger began to draw the Jalora's power into his body. Seth staggered back from its angry wrath.

"I will find you again. This I swear. Now go!"

Seth grabbed Riley's arm and pulled him toward the last remaining palette of wool. They climbed inside, shoving their bodies in between bales. Seth caught sight of Wolf as he lifted his sword to meet the Dirge. Then the palette spun away to face the open ocean. Embers of a large fire glowed upon the sea beneath them. Someone had burned the wharf, destroying his mother's letters along with the portrait of his parents.

"Was he a ranger, then?" Riley tugged on Seth's coat sleeve.

Seth thought back to the bit of Wolf’s life he had seen. "Yes. They call him Wolf. I think he was the King of Valdeon."

"Well, he's gotten us safely off." Riley rubbed gingerly at his head again. "I don't much care for the fellow with him. Squire or no."

Beware the darkness!

Seth ducked down behind the bale just as a blade pierced the burlap next to his head. Riley pushed Seth out of the way and grabbed their attacker's arm. A gust of sea breeze blew off his cowl, revealing the white dagger stretching down his face. Sandor brought the hilt of his sword smashing against Riley's jaw. He fell backward and tumbled off the platform.

"No! Riley!"

A hand smacked on the platform next to the edge. Riley's pale face tried to lift up. He was hanging on precariously from the rope steadying the cargo. The palette began to spin out of control over the ocean. Frantic shouting from the crew filled the docks as they tried to steady the load.