Secrets of the Stonechaser (The Law of Eight Book 1) (4 page)

Chapter Four

MUCH AS QABALA predicted, the revelation of Nerris as one of the Thrillseekers and his appointment to commander elicited a hearty reaction from the rest of the army. Many he had never spoken to approached him now, each wanting to clasp hands with their new officer. The camp followers offered themselves to him in brazen fashion, some prettier than others. Nerris turned them all down.

Qabala picked his officers, but gave Nerris his own choice of who would ride in his personal guard. The first men he sought out were Rade, Chalis, and Mikaren. He knew them from their mission to Palehorse and back, and knew how they fought and lived. He could depend on them.

He found Chalis in the mess tent, chatting with a young mercenary who the high cheekbones of an Agossean. When they noticed him, both men stood and saluted. “Don’t let me interrupt your meal,” Nerris said. “Chalis, I would have you ride with me when my company departs for the west.”

“Of course, Nerris... Commander, I mean,” Chalis said. “I am honored.”

“Commander,” the other young man said, “Allow me to say I am most humbled to meet you again.”

“Have we met?”

The man nodded. “Name’s Dolias, if it please you. I was but a child in the village of Roden when you and the Thrillseekers freed us from the onslaught of raiders.” He turned to Chalis. “For months, they took everything we had, until Nerris, Dist, and Jhareth took care of them. I was in my sixth summer at the time.”

“Then you were too young to remember the first time we passed through,” Nerris said. “We were on our way to Gauntlet, untrained and inexperienced. We were lucky those bandits didn’t kill us. We only came back after receiving two years of instruction in fighting. We were out for revenge.”

“Still, the village talks about it to this day,” Dolias said. “I learned how to soldier because I wanted to be just like you.”

Nerris nodded. “And how are you decorated, soldier?”

Dolias furrowed his brow. “Before this war, I soldiered some in Sicoria, when the last fight over the spice trade broke out. I’ve also lent my sword to the clans in Chei-Dao across the Northern Ocean.”

“Ah, a world-traveled man,” Nerris said. “I think you’ll do. Ride with us and we’ll make Prince Lahnel think twice about coming east.”

Dolias saluted. “It would be my pleasure, Commander.”

Nerris took his leave and made his way down the hill to a nearby brook, where he sat on a rock and drew his blade. The Miagamese steel shone bright in the morning sun, which reflected off the water. Nerris retrieved a small cask and rag from his satchel. He poured some oil from the cask onto the rag and carefully went about polishing the katana. As he had warned Qabala in their very first conversation, katana were dangerous weapons to the wielder as well as enemy. They bore the keenest edges in the world, and men had been known to cut off a finger merely by running a hand along the blade. She had wanted to examine the weapon nevertheless.

“It’s so thin,” she commented as she turned it by the hilt. “Almost like a toy sword. Even my saber has a thicker blade.”

“This sword has a known history of cutting through three human torsos at once,” Nerris said. “It’s also been known to break lesser swords. Its name is Noruken.”

“A noble-sounding name,” Qabala said.

“It means Sword of the Shooting Star, or close enough,” Nerris said. “It loses a bit in translation. Supposedly, metal from a fallen star was mixed in with the forging.”

“How ever did you come by something this extraordinary?”

Nerris shook his head. It was best not to dwell on Miagama. Three years had passed since he left the far eastern kingdom, but it seemed much longer. If not for the proof his sword offered, he might have thought it all a dream.

Instead, he thought of Qabala, the unique young woman who had captured the hearts of the people of Yagolhan. He had not known much about her before attending her every night, and her forwardness had taken him by surprise on his return from Palehorse. She was the first woman he had been with in a long time. In addition to the Horde’s reaction, Qabala seemed pleased with herself now that Nerris had accepted his new post. He hoped she did not mistake his acquiescence for an intention to accept her other proposals.

“Uncanny.” Nerris turned at the voice to find Rade standing behind him. The graybeard saluted. “For a moment, I could have sworn your father sat there, polishing his bastard sword.”

“My mother always said he deigned to fight with a mace,” Nerris said.

“He was best with the mace, true, but always kept a sword ready just in case.” Rade gestured to the rock next to Nerris. He nodded his consent. The old man sat with a grunt. “What became of your mother?”

“You’re going to tell me you knew her as well?” Nerris asked.

“When I was younger, I made it a point to know all the fair ladies of the land,” Rade said with a twinkle in his eye. “Alas, when I met her, she was already head over heels for Derrin Palada.”

“She died in my thirteenth year,” Nerris said. “A fever took her in the spring. When summer came, Dist, Jhareth, and I left Haladast for good.”

Rade chuckled. “So that’s where she ended up. I am sorry, Nerris. Your mother was a kind woman.”

Nerris nodded. “What brings you out here? Your fancy for dangling stories about my family over me?”

“There’s where you’re not like your father,” Rade said. “You have a prickly disposition.”

“Do I?” Nerris asked. “I suppose that’s how the world made me.”

“Actually, I was asked to deliver you to the pavilion of the Aeterna, to await her pleasure.” He winked.

Nerris rolled his eyes. Not much got by this old man. “Qabala isn’t Aeterna. She hasn’t touched a godstone, and unless she’s got one stowed away in her pocket, she never will. Those stones haven’t been seen in almost thirty years.”

Rade shrugged. “Who’s to say what she has or hasn’t done? No one knows much about her life before the massacre in Lhan Del.”

Nerris put away the rag and sheathed his blade. “Be that as it may, I’m hardly the only person she’ll need to convince. I suppose I should see what she wants.” He stood and walked back up the hill.

“Have fun,” Rade called after him.

As he walked through the camp, men stopped in their tasks to salute him and children stared at him in awe. Nerris pondered if the dogs would be next to fawn over him. He wondered exactly what Qabala had been telling her people.

As he approached her pavilion, Nerris caught sight of a young girl attempting to carry two heavy buckets of water up the hill. As she stumbled, Nerris reached out and caught her wrist before she could spill one of them.

“Have a care, Meeka,” he said.

The girl gasped in surprise. “Nerris... Commander. My lord.” She made an awkward curtsy. Qabala’s pretty handmaiden had waited on him many times during the evenings he spent with the would-be Aeterna. Before their relationship had changed.

Nerris chuckled. “I’m no lord. Let me help you with that.”

Qabala’s pretty servant shied away. “No, it is my task. My Eternal bade me to wash her armor.”

“Please, let me help,” Nerris said. “Qabala works you too hard as it is.”

“You are kind to say so,” Meeka said, “but my Eternal may be cross if you are late. If she knows I held you up, she could have me whipped...” Meeka turned her face, blushing. “Forgive me. I spoke ill of the Aeterna.”

Nerris frowned. “Ill or truth?” Meeka did not answer, and Nerris shrugged. “Very well, I’ll leave you to your duties. I ought not to test the lady’s patience.”

Meeka bowed her head, and followed Nerris into the tent. Meeka sat her buckets on a nearby table and went about her preparations as Nerris sauntered to Qabala’s makeshift field bed. Lady Qabala sprawled amongst the blankets and cushions, decked out in leather riding trousers and a cloth halter which barely covered her breasts. She flashed Nerris a seductive smile, her jade eyes following his movements. “Meeka, leave us for a moment.”

Meeka bowed and made her exit as Nerris saluted. “Lady Qabala, a pleasure to be in your presence as always.”

Qabala gestured to the cushion beside her. “Come sit with me.”

Nerris set his katana on the table and removed his cloak. He joined Qabala on the bed, and she curled up beside him at once. “So cruel that propriety would keep us apart for the majority of days,” she said. “Once I am Aeterna in truth, you will be at my side in perpetuity.”

She intertwined her fingers with his, and Nerris let her. Despite everything, including his vow that he was through with women, something irresistible about this young leader enflamed his senses. He admired her tenacity, if nothing else. “I have not said yes yet, my lady,” he said.

“You will come around, once you see what is offered,” Qabala said. “You may be a Thrillseeker, Nerris, but you’ve never known true power. I never thought I would enjoy this either; but then, I grew up in a mud brick hut with a foster father who beat me at every turn. I was not destined to be powerful, yet when the chance arose I took it all the same.”

“You’ve never talked of your father before,” Nerris said.

“Foster father,” Qabala spat out between clenched teeth. “The man took over care of me when my real father died. He was no family of mine.” She put a hand on Nerris’s sternum. “When he was angry, he would wait until I was bent over doing some chore and kick me right here. The pain would be awful, and I couldn’t breathe for many minutes. So it went until I flowered. At that point, he found... other uses for me.” She shuddered beside him.

Nerris sucked in his breath. “That’s horrible.”

Qabala nodded and nuzzled against Nerris’s chest. He stroked her hair and they remained silent for a long time. Finally, Qabala spoke again. “I got my revenge in the end. It was the first proactive thing I ever had the courage to do. I suppose I should be grateful. It made me harder, stronger, with the knowledge that I need to cower before no man.”

That made Nerris think of Meeka, and he clenched his teeth in anger. “And you feel that gives you the right to abuse your own servants?”

Qabala gave him a sharp look. “Who told you that?”

“Never mind,” Nerris said. “Just seems odd to me. Someone like you, fighting to free her people from an oppressive regime, acting no better than a petty thug.”

Qabala slapped him. The light strike gave him no pain, but it was hard enough to get his attention. “Meeka is no servant, she is a slave. No, don’t look at me like that. The prohibition of slavery by Prince Lahnel is what led to the downfall of his house. Without that, not near as many of his supporters would have come over to me, and Kahz Rinad would never have lent me his jaguar warriors. Without that, my rebellion would never have gained a foothold. People do not follow me for freedom, but for the hope of freedom. There is a difference.”

The slave trade was the economical backbone of Raddoni, Nerris knew. With Sicoria and Yagolhan being the only other countries in Tormalia to support such a brutal practice, it made sense the kahz would back the Qabalan Horde in this conflict.

“Still, cruelty is something you should be above,” Nerris said. “An Aeterna is supposedly the voice of a goddess come to ground, pledged to look after her people.”

Qabala giggled. “Nerris, you are so decent. Don’t worry about it. She’s just a slave. Sometimes they need a firm hand.”

Nerris kept silent. Qabala was a Yagol through and through, and arguing with a Yagol about slavery was as futile as waiting for a mountain snowcap to thaw. She was correct from a political perspective, of course. Not for the first time, he reflected on the remarkable duality this young woman had shown him during their brief acquaintance.

He took her fingers again. “I like your hands best when they are gentle.”

Qabala gave him a chaste kiss. “That is sweet of you, dear, but before we can get to more pleasurable business, I have news.”

She stood and walked to her war table. Nerris joined her and she pointed out a cluster of markers near Kallov, representing Lahnel’s western army. “I have received word Prince Lahnel and Lord Petaka Bosmick are on the move. As I thought, they are headed to Palehorse. Your detachment will leave tomorrow. You will wind your way through the mountain passes and harry his force, continually falling back until they arrive here.”

She put her finger on a dot labeled as the village of Gelnicka. “Here is where your true battle lies. Mind you, you are to slow him, so do not try to win. Your force will not be sufficient enough to be victorious in a pitched battle. If you cause him enough damage, he will most certainly stop in the village to lick his wounds. When he believes you are routed, you will reassemble at his rear. By then, I imagine Dume Rhonor’s army will be on the move and I will meet him at the gates of Palehorse. After I smash him, I will come west and end this before the ground even gets cold.”

Nerris frowned. “I still don’t think Prince Lahnel will go for it.”

“What choice does he have?” Qabala asked. “He stands no chance without combining with Dume Rhonor, and even then he’s outnumbered.”

“Why me, anyway? I studied at Gauntlet, and am well-versed in battle tactics, true. But I am an adventurer, not a leader of men.”

“I want my people to get used to you in that position,” Qabala said. “The weight of this mission against its level of risk is perfect for you to get your feet wet before you become one of my Dume-Generals.”

“We’ll see about that,” he said.

Qabala smiled and fluttered her eyelashes. “You would not disappoint your Eternal, would you?”

Nerris laughed. “You are persistent.”

“One other thing,” she said. “After Lahnel marches to meet me, put the village of Gelnicka to the torch. Should he escape us somehow, he will find no refuge there.”

“No,” Nerris said.

Qabala rounded on him. “Excuse me?”

“No,” Nerris repeated. “No firings, rapes, or murder. I will not have that in any force I lead.”

“You are leading soldiers, Nerris. Would you prohibit breathing, sleeping, and shitting as well?”

“I saw too much needless carnage when Gauntlet rebelled against King Ullas in Agos,” Nerris said, “and much more since then. I am a mercenary, my lady, not subject to you or Prince Lahnel or anyone else. If I lead, I will do it my way, or take my sword and go.”

Other books

A Second Chance by Wolf, Ellen
Telling Tales by Melissa Katsoulis
Reaching Out to the Stars by Donna DeMaio Hunt
Murder at Redwood Cove by Janet Finsilver
The Volcano Lover by Susan Sontag
Lowland Rider by Chet Williamson