Tarah Woodblade (31 page)

She turned to look up at Djeri. The dwarf still hung up on the tree, watching her calmly with something like relief in his eyes. “Can we get my bodyguard down now?”

“I see no need to leave him up there,” Shade said. “But I don’t need him toddling back to the academy and telling them about us. What do you think, Biff?”

“I won’t be killin’ another dwarf when he’s defenseless like that,” the gray haired smuggler said. “‘Specially kin. Don’t matter how distant.”

“What are you saying?” Tarah said in alarm. “You can’t kill him. I hired that dwarf for my protection! I paid half upfront.”

Shade looked puzzled. “And now you have fifteen dwarves to watch over you. Besides, this way you won’t have to pay the last half. What say you, Donjon?”

“Sorry, Shade. I’m with Biff on this one. Aunt Maggie’d have my hide if I started killin’ kinfolk.” He shrugged. “But it wouldn’t be the first time I looked the other way while someone else did it. He’s all yours, Shade. We’cn bury him deep so no one’ll find him.”

Shade sighed. “Fine, get me a crossbow. You can turn away if you’d like.”

Mel chuckled and ran towards the horses.

“Wait!” Tarah said, her mind whirring for a way to save him. Djeri, watching from above, grunted, nodding his head at her. His eyes were wide as if he was trying to give her a hint. “I-I said I paid half upfront. If he dies, the academy’ll know who he was with. I don’t want ‘em coming after me.”

Shade frowned. “Contracts I understand, Tarah dear,” he said. “But academy warriors are notorious for . . . informing on clients who do things improper. That’s why I keep to, let’s say, more unsavory help.”

“What’re you talkin’ ‘bout, Shade?” Leroy said with a sly grin. “I’m very savory. You’cn ask the ladies.” The others laughed.

Shade ignored them. “Warriors die sometimes. It’s an academy tradition. If you tell them where the body was buried, they’ll believe your story. It’s better this way, trust me.”

Mel arrived with a heavy crossbow. He had a wicked-looking bolt already notched. Shade took it from him and lifted it with practiced hands.

“Don’t! He wouldn’t tell! Because . . . because-,” she stammered. Tarah glanced up at Djeri and her face colored as she said, “He’s my lover.”

A hush fell over the camp.

“Yer a humie, academy boy?” Leroy yelled. The dwarves in the background erupted in laughter.

“Lovers?” Shade said, frowning uncertainly. “I find that difficult to believe.”

“Runs in his family,” said Donjon, his lip curled with distaste. “Just like his granddaddy. Pa Cragstalker’d turn over in his grave.”

“He’d never tell the academy about what you’re doing,” Tarah embellished, an idea coming to her. “In fact, as soon as we found the rogue horse for you, we were planning to take the money and run off to Razbeck together. I-I had a job offer there. A noble gave me his family mark. It was in my coinpurse before Mel took it.”

All eyes turned on Mel. The dwarf shrugged sheepishly. “I didn’t go through all of it yet, but . . . there was a house mark in there.”

“I’ll expect all of it back, too,” Tarah said. “I know exactly how much was in there. That was gonna be our wedding money.”

“You believe her, Shade?” Mel asked.

“We’ll see.” Shade jerked his head towards the hanging dwarf. “Ease him down, Biff.”

To Tarah’s relief, they hustled over and began slowly lowering him towards the ground. He grunted as his feet hit the ground, but otherwise, he showed no sign of discomfort. Shade walked over to them and stood in front of the dwarf, his lip still curled. “Take out his gag.”

As the dwarves untied the gag, Tarah clenched her teeth in concern, hoping the dwarf wouldn’t say something stupid or attack Shade. Djeri coughed as he spat out the nasty sock. He winced at the dryness in his mouth but spoke, his voice hoarse, “Tarah, girl. Are you okay? Are your arms alright?”

She blinked at the tenderness in his voice. He was a better actor than she’d thought. Shade’s eyes were fixed on her face, gauging her response.

Tarah knew she had to sell it, so she used a trick her grampa had taught her. She pulled deep on her emotions, focusing on the dwarf’s bravery and companionship over the last few days. Tarah looked closely at him. His face was battered and bloodied and his arms were still tied behind his back. She knew he had to be in excruciating pain.

She raised a hand to her mouth, summoning tears. “Oh Djeri, I’m fine. Are you okay?”

Djeri’s brow furrowed and for a second she saw a slight look of confusion on his face. “As long as you’re okay, I am.”

The camp was quiet at this and Tarah noticed that Shade wasn’t the only one disturbed by their tactic. The other dwarves seemed to be torn between laughing and gagging at the thought of her and Djeri together.

She could feel Shade’s cold eyes on her. “Come over here then, Tarah. Kiss him. Convince me you love this dwarf.”

There was a mixture of laughter and groans from the other dwarves.

Tarah swallowed, her heart pounding. She shuffled towards him. Could she do this? She’d never kissed a man, before. Not really. She’d kissed her papa and grampa goodnight, but only on the cheek and a chaste peck was not going to be convincing enough.

“I-I’m afraid I might hurt him,” she stammered as she drew near.

Djeri’s battered face was red and his eyes were apologetic. “It’s just a split lip. I-I’m . . .” His jaw quivered and she could tell he was close to backing down. He could blow the whole thing.

Tarah Woodblade does what’s necessary
, said Grampa Rolf.

He was right. Tarah strengthened her resolve. This wasn’t about a kiss. It was a mission objective. It was about survival. Tarah Woodblade could fight off half a dozen moonrats with a quarter staff. She could skin a deer in under five minutes and make sausages with its intestines. Dirty work was something she was not unfamiliar with.

Tarah leaned down and grasped the back of Djeri’s head. His eyes closed as their lips touched. She held her breath. Not knowing what to do, she called back on memories of watching others kiss and tilted her head, pulling his face hard against hers.

She let her lips part. He tasted of blood and steel and a thick masculine sort of musk. His lips slid against hers in response and if the situation had been different and he had been freshly bathed, the sensation wouldn’t have been all that awful.

Finally she pulled back, breathing heavily. She could feel his blood and sweat on her face, but forced herself not to wipe it away. They shared a troubled stare for a moment and she turned back to the others. “Don’t hurt him, please.”

Shade looked thoroughly disgusted.

“Here,” He said thrusting a clean-looking handkerchief at her. “Wipe off your face.”

She did so and tried not to let her relief show. Had it worked? Had she been convincing enough. “Will you let him go?”

“Untie him Biff,” Shade said in response. “Consider this a show of good faith, Tarah. If either of you betray me or try to run away, I promise we will hunt you down. And hunting is these dwarves’ specialty.”

“Tarah Woodblade keeps her contracts,” she replied coldly.

She watched them release Djeri’s arms. He grimaced as they hung to his sides and Tarah knew how much they would be hurting.

”Will you give him a healing potion, like you did me?” she asked.

“Are you aware how much one of those costs?” Shade scoffed. “Just be glad we spared him. He’s a dwarf, he’ll recover.”

“Besides,” said Biff. “Them healin’ potions are magic. Don’t work good on us dwarves anyhow.”

“Will you be alright, Djeri?” she asked.

“I’ll be fine,” he said stoically.

She gave him a dubious look. “Do you dwarfs have any healing potions that do work on your kind?”

Donjon laughed. “You couldn’t afford the stuff we got.”

“If you returned the purse you took from me when you captured us I would,” she said and Mel scowled.

“I had money, too.” Djeri added.

“Shade, we would like our things back,” she said. “My staff and bow are heirlooms. We also want our pack animal back and-.”

“Enough.” Shade gestured to Donjon. “Tell your dwarves not to purloin any of their items. They can have their coinpurses and other items back except for their weapons. I don’t see any need for them to be armed until they prove they can be trusted.”

“There’s such a thing as plunder,” Mel said grumpily.

“Don’t make me kick you in the fire again.” Tarah growled. Being separated from their things would make escape more difficult, but Tarah realized she had little room for negotiation. “There is one thing, Shade. I’ll need my staff. It has magic that helps me track.”

“Like we’d believe that,” Donjon said. “That thing’s a weapon.”

“You have a fifteen dwarf crew and you’re afraid of one woman with a staff?” Djeri scoffed. “Maggie’s band has gotten soft.”

“Fine,” Shade said. “She can have the staff. But the rest of their weapons stay in our possession.” He fixed Tarah with a glare. “And don’t ask me for any more concessions from me today. My patience has worn quite thin.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. “Thank you.”

“And Tarah, clean up your lover there. His face is making me sick.” Shade turned and walked back towards his tent. “Now pack up! We leave in the hour. This beast is too far ahead of us as it is!”

Donjon glowered after him and said soft enough that Shade could not hear. “My boys follow me. Not you, you gnome-licker.” He turned to his dwarves. “Listen up! Get movin’. Leroy, bring the girl’s staff. Peggy, give her some water so she can clean that humie up.”

He turned and walked away. The camp became a flurry of motion as dwarves began taking down tents and putting out campfires. Leroy tossed Tarah her staff and a few minutes later Mel returned and scowled at them as he dropped their coinpurses in the dirt.

“Humie?” she asked Djeri.

“It means a dwarf that prefers humans,” he said. “I’ve been called it all my life. Don’t pay it any mind.”

Peggy came over with a pail of water and some clean rags. She was a dwarf female with long blond hair and a mustache as thick as any of the men, though it was waxed and neatly trimmed. Tarah hadn’t seen her much the night before.

Peggy’s voice was gruff as she said “Here, clean him up like Shade said. Then have him wear this,” she tossed Tarah a small necklace with a runed crystal pendant on the end. “This’ll help him heal a little faster.” Her face colored slightly and she handed Tarah a bundle of bandages before she turned and left.

Tarah watched her leave. “Maybe they ain’t all bad.”

“Believe me. They’re all bad,” Djeri said. He looked away. “I’m . . . sorry you had to kiss me back there.”

“It wasn’t so bad.” She hung the necklace over his neck and bent down, dipping a rag into the bucket. The water was cold. “They could’ve made me kiss Mel.”

He chuckled, then gasped. “This necklace might be helping but it makes things hurt more.” He pulled back when she brought the wet rag up to his face. “You don’t need to wash me off. I can do it myself.”

“Don’t be stupid,” she replied. “You can’t move your arms.” She wiped the dirt and sweat from his brow. He winced when she brushed the gash in his forehead. “Just hold still.”

She finished cleaning the rest of his face and neck, then focused on the wounds, cleaning them out as much as she could with just cold water and rags. While she bandaged him up, she said. “Tell me how these dwarves are your kin.”

Djeri sighed. “Grandfather Rosco was a Cragstalker. Most of the family line on his side are smugglers. When he married a human it was like a slap in the face to the rest of the family. They’ve looked down on the rest of us ever since.” He shook his head and said softly, “How do you know this Shade character?”

“He came to me in Razbeck a few weeks ago.” She told him the story, emphasizing the fact that she had abandoned the idea of finishing his job to focus on the academy one instead. She worried that he would storm away in anger, but all he did was frown.

“Seriously Tarah? You took a job from a man calling himself Shade. If there’s one thing your grandfather should have taught you, it’s, ‘Never take a job from a man called Shade!’”

“He didn’t use those exact words, but you’re right. He said something like that,” she admitted.

“Alright then. I’ll keep my eyes out for ways to escape this, but we should be cautious. They’ll be ready for us to try.” He looked over her shoulder and Tarah turned to see several of the dwarves watching from not far away.

“There’s no hurry,” she whispered, turning back to face him. “I think we’re working our mission quite well. We’re following the tracks like we were told.”

“And we’re among the enemy learning what they’re up to,” he agreed with a nod. “But what if we find the rogue?”

“We’re three weeks behind,” she said. “At the rate these dwarfs move, it’ll be a long while before we get anywhere close to finding it. We just need to gain their trust and get the rest of our weapons back. I might even find a way to throw ‘em off before we escape.”

Djeri strained and she felt his hand on her shoulder. “We can do this,” he promised.

“Of course we can,” she said with a look of determination. “Tarah Woodblade never leaves a job undone.”

Chapter Sixteen

That first day they spent with the smugglers was miserable for Djeri. The necklace Peggy had given him did seem to speed up his healing, but it did nothing to numb the pain. Shade ordered Tarah to go with Donjon and his best trackers by horseback. Djeri, unable to move his arms without great effort, was forced to sit in the wagon.

Tarah seemed to have the impression that the smugglers were stupid, but Djeri knew that was far from the truth. The dwarves were well organized. They used tactics gained from thousands of years of collective experience hunting rare game.

While Tarah and the others followed the tracks, Donjon relayed their findings to Shade by the use of flattened message stones very similar to the stones the academy used. Shade hung back, coordinating the rest of the group, sending scouts ahead so that they could avoid travelers, while keeping the wagon as close to the trackers as he could. Biff organized the movements of the rest of the camp and was in charge of provisions.