Stonewiser (29 page)

She shouted a warning at the same time she shot at Kael's attacker. Kael hit the ground. The stone struck his opponent in the tiny strip of skin exposed between the back of the helmet and the neck guard.
Pop
. Meliahs forgive her. The brain would shoot upwards into the helmet.

Kael tucked away his bow and unsheathed his twin swords. They clashed against three of the shield's pikes. The woman who held the other girl was putting up a good fight but she let go when Kael sliced open her shins. Sariah grabbed the girl, dodged a pike, and then ran with the two children to the edge of the road.

“That way.” She pointed the older girl in the direction of the woods. “Take your sister. Hide. Don't come out until I call you.”

A shadow loomed behind Sariah. She whirled just in time to see Delis's hatchet coming down on her attacker's back.

“Thanks,” she said hoarsely.

“Don't mention it, my donnis.”

Sariah's next shot was not lethal, but it would hurt like the rot. It struck under the shield of a man beating the older woman by the cart.
Pop
. He wouldn't be sitting comfortably for a long time. She helped the woman to her feet.

“Meliahs be blessed, who are you?”

“Don't thank us yet.” Sariah pushed the woman out of a pike's way. “It's not over.”

The surviving Shield regrouped and faced them. They stuck together like hares on a string, holding their barbed pikes ahead of them, advancing in step like a bristling porcupine. Sariah dug in the depths of her weapons belt to find a stronger stone. Kael was already rolling one of his on the ground.
Bam
. The advancing line broke at its center. Three more men lay in a heap of arms and broken shields. At their commander's behest, the two remaining sides closed the gap and became a line again.

The sound of hooves behind them did not dissuade the Shield from their attack, but the unexpected collision that broke their weakened line did. Malord rode down the lane mounted on a wide-hoofed draft horse and crashed against the back of the Shield's line. He wielded his hefty mace with enormous force, banging on the attackers’ helmets with powerful blows. The early afternoon was filled with the clang of wood on metal and the grunts of Kael and Delis's last efforts.

When the fray was over, Kael came to Sariah. “Are you all right?”

“Not a scratch. Kael, may I present—what's your name?”

“Mara.” The woman tucked a strand of long white hair back in her bun with great dignity. “Mara of Targamon Farm.”

She was short of stature but strong of body, equally rounded at the hips and at the bosom. Besides her smart blue eyes, the most prominent feature on her face was her nose, a fleshy knob with a flat dent at the top of the upturned tip.

“This is Kael,” Sariah said. “He's my mate—”

“Your mate?” Incomprehension clouded Mara's eyes. “Animals mate.”

“He is my…” What was it that Goodlanders called it? “He's my husband.”

“Your husband, eh? A Domainer?” She looked at Sariah's face, noting her matching eyes, and then stared at Kael's black and green eyes with a hint of suspicion. Her pinched face relaxed and her hand shot up to shake Kael's. “I guess we get them husbands from wherever we can. Domainer or not, it's only fair that I thank you for your help. You could have walked on blind to all of this.”

“No, madam,” Kael said. “I couldn't.”

He crossed to the other side of the road where Delis kept watch over the wounded. Sariah and Mara followed. He dropped a skin on a young man's lap. Sariah recognized one of his blue fringed arrows in the lad's calf. Kael crouched before the young man and examined the wound.

“Why are you here?” He snapped the shaft, taking off the point and the feathering.

The lad was shaking with fear and shock.

“I won't ask again. What's your mission?” With a quick thrust, Kael pulled the shortened shaft through the wound.

The man flinched. “We're to requisition foodstuffs and supplies for the wall's guard.”

“Your commander said something about wombs and drills. What was that about?”

“Why should I tell you anything? You're going to kill me anyway.”

“If I were going to kill you, why would I bother treating your wound, you rotting excuse for a brain?”

The young man stared agape as Kael tied a tourniquet below the knee and cleansed his wound. “It's the mandate,” he blurted out. “To seed the pure folk of the Goodlands with the Shield's excellent stock. To save the Goodlands from takeover by the rot's vermin.”

“Ah.” The young man wilted under Kael's terrible glare. “Who commands you?”

“The Main Shield,” the lad said. “Stonewiser Master Arron.”

Arron
. The name set Sariah's belly to ice. He was the Main Shield now? The last time she had seen Arron, the day of the breaking of the wall, he had been fighting against Mistress Grimly for control of the Guild. The mistress had taken over the Shield after the Main Shield, Horatio Maliver, quit his command. Arron had probably prevailed in that battle or shortly thereafter. And at the very least, in a stunning reversal of roles, he had managed to wrest command of the Shield from Mistress Grimly. He must have named himself Main Shield after that.

It made sense. Arron wouldn't care if Goodlanders died of famine as long as his purposes were served. His
mandate
seemed utterly plausible, in character, and not so far removed from the Guild's lesser known notions. Was he close by? Sariah shivered.

Kael knotted the young man's bandage. “Arron. I should have known.”

“That arse-licking mongrel is bleeding us dry,” Mara said.

“Why?” the lad asked, perplexed. “Why won't you kill me?”

Kael's eyes fell on the young soldier's face. “Because you, Kenzy, right? You asked the right question when hearing a bad command. Perhaps in time, you'll learn to act beyond questions, but for now, that little bit of hesitation in your voice when your commander ordered you to hurt the woman and the girls saved your life.”

“My grandchildren?” Mara asked anxiously.

“Here comes one.” Sariah smiled at the sight of Malord on the old horse with the smaller one of the two girls riding abreast. “This is Malord,” she decided for simplicity.

“Mounted on Rodney?”

Sariah couldn't help but notice that Mara took in the entire sight of Malord, as absent of wholeness as it was.

“How valorous of you,” Mara said, “to come like that in our defense. I'm in your debt.”

“Not at all.” Malord hid his face's furious flush by helping the girl down from the horse.

“You're a Domainer too?” Mara asked.

“As mismatched of eyes as they come,” Malord said.

“Where are Mia and the other girl?” Sariah asked.

“Here they come.”

The girls emerged from the forest hand in hand.

“Come here, Roxana. Are you hurt? Clara?” Mara embraced her granddaughters. “That was close, my girls, very close. If these good people hadn't come…”

“We'll need every hand to right the cart and reload it,” Kael said. “Let's hurry.”

Between all of them, they righted the cart. The girls joined Delis and Kael picking up the spilled groceries. Malord hesitated before quitting the beast. Clearly, he was enjoying his newly acquired heights.

“You'll be needing your horse, I suppose.”

“Oh, no, sir, Malord,” Mara said. “Rodney does so much better with a mounted lead and I so dislike straddling the beast. I think you should ride him, I mean, Rodney, over to the farm. Regardless of whatever drives you to travel this forsaken road, you must allow me to thank all of you with my hospitality, at least for tonight.”

A roof. A bed. A dry blanket. It was tempting.

“Thanks for your offer,” Sariah said, “but we're in a hurry and we—”

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” Kael pulled Sariah aside. “We have a new problem—Kenzy and his surviving friends. They're our prisoners now. If we let them go, they'll go straight to the Shield and tell them about us. They might even lead them back here.”

“Are you suggesting we—”

“I have a different idea. I'll stay behind in the forest, guarding the prisoners for a day or two. If all goes well, I might even be able to play around with the Shield to deflect any attention from you. You go on to this Targamon place. As soon as it's safe, call the beam. If you're successful, we'll meet in three days near the confluence of the twin rivers. You can't miss it. If you can't call the beam, we'll meet at Targamon instead.”

Sariah saw the plan's logic. “Delis can stay.”

“No, Delis must go with you to protect you and the stones. We can't leave her in my place because she's never been here before, whereas I'm a roamer and I know my way around the Goodlands. I don't think these three know where Mara is from, but I think that given enough time I can persuade them from telling their bosses about us.”

“How?”

“How will they feel when they have to tell their superiors their whole unit was wiped out by an old woman and her poor family? Such defeat would surely involve some hefty punishment, not to mention humiliation. Wouldn't they look a lot better, like heroes, if their explanation entailed a more impressive opponent?”

“And you're going to feed them that story?”

“A good battle story, about Domainer runners in the hundreds and Goodlander rebels. Anything that will throw the Shield off our trail. It's worth a try. In the worse case, we'll have a few hours’ advantage. In a day or two, I can haul these three to town and arrange it so they can't get loose for another day or so. I might even fit in a bit of business in Ellensburg.”

“Business?”

He shot her a glance askance. “We're not idiots, Sariah. Since the time before the execration, Ars has had investments in the Goodlands. The children of Ars have been prudent enough to augment those reserves. There's more business between the Goodlands and the Domain than you can imagine.”

“Is that how you're financing our little expedition?”

“Partly. There are some assets that must be turned into coin and some goods that need to find good buyers. It's part of my roamer's duties.”

“I'm going to be the ruin of you.” She said it factually, like the coin-based Guild wiser she had once been.

He took her hand. “Some women like jewels, others like trinkets, and others prefer gowns or shoes. You like stones, and the stone truth, and I happen to be after that too.”

“I won't have you and your kin ruined on account of my stones.”

“You're right. You won't let it happen and neither will I. So let me do my job and you worry about yours.”

“But I don't want to leave you behind.”

“It's not like that, Sariah. And the alternative is—Well, you know what it is.”

Sariah surveyed the surviving Shield. Under all that wood, leather and copper, she saw fear in the young anxious faces. She didn't like it. But did they have any other choice besides murder?

Kael turned to Mara. “Your hospitality would be very much welcomed. If your offer still stands, these folks will be spending the night with you.”

“What did you say your name was, my dear?” Mara asked.

“Oh, forgive my oversight. I'm Sariah.”

The woman's brow wrinkled like well-used parchment. “Sariah of the Hall of Scribes’ sixty-sixth folio, formerly of the Guild?”

There went the roof, the bed and the dry blankets.

“Aye,” she said reluctantly. “That's me.”

Twenty-three

 

F
ROM THE TOP
of the hill, Sariah could see that Targamon Farm had once been an extensive enterprise. Furrowed fields extended as far as the eye could see around the distant shape of an old two-story house. It was the kind of place Kael would have loved—serene, private, unspoiled, and charmingly quaint. The idyllic setting would have made the perfect background for his dreams. By Meliahs, he had been gone from her sight for less than a couple of hours, and she was already missing him fiercely.

But on closer inspection, Targamon lost some of its appeal. The once fertile vale seemed deserted of crops and people. Other than the house's produce garden and a couple of failed wheat fields, nothing grew in the undulating countryside.