Tides of Blood and Steel (9 page)

Read Tides of Blood and Steel Online

Authors: Christian Warren Freed

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Coming of Age, #Epic, #Paranormal & Urban, #Sword & Sorcery, #Arthurian, #Teen & Young Adult

Argis measured the sell swords. “It may already be too late. Smoke rises from the northeast.”

“What does that mean?”

“Bahr’s estate lies in that direction. Harnin must have gone straight there.”

The news felt like a slap in the face. Not even their combined strength managed to get a single step ahead of the One Eye. All was lost if Bahr had been caught again. Despair threatened to grip each of them in different ways. Not for the first time.

“We should hurry. Bahr might still need help,” Dorl added quickly.

“He’s right. We are wasting time,” Nothol echoed.

Argis was unconvinced. “Has it occurred to either of you that we may be the only ones left? What happens then?”

“We go and return to Rogscroft. This kingdom is no longer safe.”

Conversation faded. Arguing only wasted time. They slunk away from the tunnels. Each was eager to leave behind the darkness-inspired nightmares. The hope of reuniting with friends strengthened their will. It pained each to knowingly leave behind companions, but time was against them. Initiative was lost and it became imperative to regain it if they hoped to find success at the end of the day. Too many lives had already been lost. Delranan stood ready to rip itself apart.

Nothol Coll led the way, unerringly weaving through back alleys and seldom used paths. The quiet of the night unnerved him. He struggled to push back a collage of poisoned thoughts. Soon enough they would know who lived or died. Thinking about it ahead of time served no purpose. The city faded into forest. Sundin Pond wasn’t far off. The only problem now was who awaited them at the pond, Bahr or Harnin.

 

SEVEN

Sundin Pond

“I think we lost them,” Boen said through strained breaths. His baritone voice was dark, threatening. All of this running sat ill on his conscience. He was used to a straight up fight, not slinking around in the shadows. More and more he had to struggle to contain the rage that wanted free. Lust of open battle threatened to consume him. Boen knew it was only a matter of time before he lost and the rage won.

Bahr gestured Rekka to rein the wagon in.

“The wagon will leave them a good trail to follow,” Rekka warned in her lithe voice.

The Sea Wolf nodded grimly. “What choice do we have? We need the wagon. It’s the only way we can carry the supplies.”

Ionascu, broken into a shadow of his former self, scowled but remained silent. This was neither the place nor time.

“We could always dump him and lose the wagon,” Boen suggested. “Both are dead weight for what we have to do.”

“No. We need Ionascu if for nothing more than preventing Harnin from learning what we are about. Besides, look at him. That man has suffered far worse than any of us. He stays.”

The big Gaimosian shrugged his indifference. Ionascu was a spy and deserved whatever fate had arranged. Still, he managed a degree of sympathy. The man had both hands broken and his mind addled. The indignity of it disgusted Boen. Worse, Anienam had been unable to help. The bones were already knitting back together. His hands and feet were misshapen and ruined.

Boen leaned in closer to Bahr and lowered his voice. “He meant to sell us out. A traitor is a traitor, my friend. The afterlife will not be kind to him. As sad a tale as his life has become, we cannot afford to babysit him. Not if we are to make it.”

“Right now it doesn’t really matter,” Bahr countered. “We are still waiting for the others. I don’t think Harnin will be so willing to commit his forces in the dead of night, but if they don’t hurry back, it won’t much matter. Daylight isn’t far off.”

“The sands are running out,” Rekka agreed.

Her black hair was almost invisible in the night, giving her a ghostly appearance. Once, that offered a measure of comfort, familiarity. Her run-in with the Dae’shan changed that. Rekka came from a peaceful people. That is not to say they didn’t practice the martial arts. She plunged into her studies at an early age and earned the honor of being selected to the ranks of defenders at the ancient temple of Trennaron. There she learned of the eternal war between light and dark from the wizened Artiss Gran. The Dae’shan returned shortly after and Gran sent her north to Delranan. She was ordered to specifically find Bahr. The rest was up to fate.

Bahr looked up at the slowly lightening sky. “She’s right. Harnin won’t wait long.”

“It is your call,” Boen said.

He reluctantly nodded. “Rekka, take Ionascu and get the wagon out of here. Wait for us a league down the trail. You’ll find three lone trees beside an abandoned cottage. We’ll be along as soon as the wizard returns.”

“How long do I wait?”

Rekka already knew the answer. She’d been entrusted to protect Bahr, even at the cost of her own death. Nothing else was important. Bahr had to live long enough to gain access to the Blud Hamr. Artiss Gran never told her why, but then again, it wasn’t her business.

“As long as necessary,” he replied. “We shouldn’t be too long.” He paused to smile. “Even when old One Eye shows up.”

“There’s nothing like a good fight to start the day,” Boen added with a giant smile.

Ionascu whimpered. Violent images flashed each time he closed his eyes. His skin paled. Gone was the urge or will to fight. Rekka ignored him and snapped the reins. Instincts screamed for her to stay, to do her duty. She drove the wagon without looking back. Doing so would only break her heart.

“She’s a good girl, that one,” Boen said, watching them go. “She comes in handy in a fight.”

Bahr wholeheartedly agreed.

“Still, she’s rather harsh. I have to admit that I find her slightly intimidating,” the Gaimosian added.

Bahr arched his eyebrow, but kept his mouth shut. He still couldn’t tell when Boen was joking after all of their long years of knowing each other.

“You don’t suppose Ionascu will give her any trouble?”

Boen shrugged. “More likely the other way around. We are wasting time here.”

“It seems to be habit forming. Come on. Sundin Pond isn’t far off and I don’t trust Harnin to stay hesitant much longer.”

Bahr led the way, both men moving quickly and quietly through the underbrush. An old deer trail ran parallel to the small creek that emptied into the pond. The way was clear and soon they entered the clearing around Sundin Pond. Ragged breath came out in plumes of steam. Bahr spit, his lungs burning. Sweat covered their bodies. Boen scanned the perimeter and drew his massive broadsword.

Keeping in a low guard, the Gaimosian gave in to decades of instinct and experience. He investigated every shadow, every bush or bole. Caution was a master instructor. Gaimosians still had enemies across Malweir. The weak and sloppy died young. Boen was old, much older than he ever thought he’d be.

“Nothing,” he said after completing his sweep. “No sign of our friends either.”

“It might be nothing. They could have been delayed.”

Boen shot him a glare suggesting neither of them believed that. “They could also be dead. We have no way of knowing for sure and asking ‘what if’ is pointless.”

Bahr let out an exasperated sigh. “That was always the danger of splitting up. What choice did we have though?”

“Stop worrying about what you can’t control. There’s nothing for it.”

The Gaimosian’s words were short and to the point, typical of his fashion. His eyes never stopped roaming their surroundings. His muscles bunched, tensing for the inevitable fight.

“What do you suggest we do?” Bahr finally asked.

“We wait for as long is prudent and double back to Rekka.”

“And the hammer?”

Boen refused to budge. “We’ll find another way if it is that important.”

The Sea Wolf took issue with how easily Boen was ready to abandon the others, men he had called friends. Faces of crewmen from the
Dragon’s Bane
flashed back to him. They were all dead; killed or drowned during some anonymous voyage across Malweir’s vast oceans. Bahr remembered every last one. Some were good, others not so much. That didn’t matter. All had died under his command.

“Boen, I…”

“Shhh.”

Boen eased into a small patch of blueberry bushes. The faint echo of steel scraping against a branch consumed his attention. The battle with Harnin’s thugs was about to renew. Death grinned from his face. Bahr quickly followed suit, trusting in the big man’s instincts though he didn’t relish the thought of another battle so soon.

“Did you hear that?” came a whisper in the dark.

“Hear what?” came the reply.

Bahr wasn’t sure, but he thought he recognized the voices. Four slender figures stole into view, giving him the answers he needed. Dorl Theed and Nothol Coll came first, swords raised and ready for war. Argis and Maleela followed. He finally allowed himself to smile. He eased into the open before Boen could object. The sell swords dropped into attack stance, relaxing a split second later as they recognized the captain.

“What kept you?” Boen asked with a genuine smile.

Any sense of relief was crippled by the fact that not all had returned. The wizard was missing. This boded ill for the future. Bahr’s heart sank.

“We ran into unforeseen circumstances,” Argis told him.

Dorl rolled his eyes. He couldn’t understand how the man remained pompous after all they’d been through. “What he means to say is that we were attacked and lucky to escape alive.”

The words cut deep. They’d placed all of their hopes in the cranky little man. Losing him, and the boy, was going to hurt them.

“And the others?” Bahr asked, already knowing the answer.

Nothol Coll shook his head and stared at the ground. Maleela broke from behind him and gave her uncle a crushing hug.

“They are dead,” Dorl snapped. He passed by angrily. His pride was wounded, worse than the physical injuries Harnin’s goons inflicted. His body was a mass of bruises, his muscles ached. Instinct begged him to abandon this foolish quest while he still lived and head south to a more lucrative future. Delranan proved too much for his psyche to handle. The only thing keeping him tied to the expedition was the bond shared with his best friend.

“We don’t know that.”

Dorl flung his arms in a futile gesture. “What other conclusion is there? We barely made it out. They were in deeper. They had to have been killed.”

“Quiet!” hissed Boen. “We are not secure here. The enemy can have spies everywhere.”

Bahr stepped between them. “Boen’s right. We are being stalked. Harnin has burned my house and estate. His forces are cautious but dawn is near. Rekka is waiting down the road at the abandoned Horsch house.”

Nothol idly scratched his jawline. “Do you think Harnin had the wagon followed?”

“I doubt it, but we can’t afford to wait and see. What happened at the temple?”

The sell sword explained as best as he could. Argis and Dorl interrupted as they saw fit. The tale was short, grim, and difficult to believe. Undead and a cave-in. Times had grown perilous in Delranan. Nothol finished, and felt as if a great weight had fallen from his chest. The burden was gone, yet the pain remained.

“Well,” Bahr drawled. “Anienam is a wizard. There is every possibility he might

have survived. We shouldn’t abandon them yet.”

“What more do you need, Bahr? They’re dead and we’re not far behind if we stay

here,” Dorl argued.

Anger flashed in the depths of Bahr’s blue eyes.

“Shut your mouth unless you actually have something to contribute,” Bahr lashed out. “I am tired of your bad attitude. Snap out of it and be the man I hired for this.”

Dorl tensed. His fist closed, drawing back slightly. Bahr closed the distance and placed a consoling hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“I need you on this one. Our hardest times are still ahead of us. This is going to be difficult. Ionascu found that out from the beginning. But the only way any of us are going to make it back is by pulling together. I need you, Dorl.”

Some of the fire smoldered away. He reluctantly nodded.

“That’s all very touching, but what do you need the rest of us for?” came a raspy voice from the shadows.

Everyone froze. They’d been discovered! A soft blue light pulsed from the night, illuminating a very haggard wizard and the street thief.

“Anienam!”

He gave a crooked smile. “Who else would it be? I hope you haven’t been waiting for someone else the whole time.”

“We thought you were dead,” Nothol Coll said and rushed out to squeeze the man.

“By all rights we should be. The cave-in made us take a longer way out. We very nearly did die.”

“There is more to be told than what we’re led to believe,” Boen commented from the perimeter.

He was right, but there was much more than a simple escape to discuss. Anienam anticipated the round of questioning. Arms folded across his chest, he patiently waited for the next question.

Bahr opened. “Did you get what you needed?”

“I believe so. The text is very old and I had little time to examine it before the cave-in. Still, it is what we need to point us in the right direction. Skuld here was the key to finding the book and seeing us to safety. He is a good lad.”

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