Water Witch (17 page)

She pulled the stinking leather back down
over her head and considered making a fire, then realized she was too tired.
Yenic lay on the grass beside Barruch, wrapped in the fur. A few hours. No
more. Surely she could catch some sleep. Maybe Yenic would feel better after an
uninterrupted rest. She hoped so. Looking down at him, she thought she wasn't
sure what she'd do if he didn't make it.

She climbed in next to him. His arm went
around her, pulling her close. Nestled there, his heated body next to hers, she
was asleep in moments.

Once during the night, Alaysha felt shaken
awake. It was deep into the night, so dark, even the shadows slept. She peered
groggily into the pit of black and tried to orient herself. Even as she was
registering that she slept at the bank of a river and that Barruch was snoring
somewhere to her left, she felt the tremors again.

Yenic.

She reached for him and touched fire. Her
hand came away so wet and clammy, she was surprised when his irregular
breathing felt hot and then deathly cold in between.

She knew if she didn't cool him down, he
wouldn't live the night. He might not even live the next few moments.

All she could think to do was run with her
bowl and water skin to the stream. In her haste, she'd forgotten how close the
river was and she fumbled blindly for a few moments before splashing in and
feeling the shock of cold. Close, so close. And not yet close enough. She
wouldn't be able to keep him cool enough by running back and forth, filling and
refilling her bowl.

She dipped both vessels in together and had
to guess about how much it would take to fill the skin. A few splashings later
and she was on the bank, plodding, nearly blind in the direction she thought
her mat waited.

She stubbed her bare toe and cursed. Where
was her mat, anyway? Her eyes stung from pain and trying to squint into the
shadows. She'd obviously gone in the wrong direction. A low snort came from her
right hand. Barruch. "Good boy," she said to the sound.

She waited, poised to sprint. Another low
snort and whinny, closer this time.

She smelled horseflesh and reached out,
holding the water skin aloft. Barruch's nose ran along her wrist, and she felt
the heat of his breath. He turned and Alaysha took careful steps with him. Best
to stay calm. Her concern for Yenic was working against her, not helping. Stay
calm. Stay focused. One step. Two.

Barruch stopped after a dozen paces.
Alaysha peered into the darkness and thought she saw a rounded
blacker-than-the-darkness mound.

She rushed to it, hoping she was right, and
placed the water down next to what she thought was Yenic's head.

She fumbled for him. The heat came at her
in waves before she even touched the skin of his face.

"Yenic," she said.

He moaned and relief flooded her; at least
he was alive. She couldn't afford to waste any time. She knew the small amount
of water she carried wouldn't be enough. He needed to be bathed in it,
submerged. There was only one thing she could think to do.

"I'm sorry," she told him, then
grasped him as gently as she could beneath the shoulders. Like she'd done to
the crones in the village, she buck-dragged him toward where the water smelled
strongest. The sound of the current grew louder with each yank, and she began
to believe she could manage it.

The spasms took him when she was at least
one hard pull away. The spasm felt different than before. It straightened his
legs and stiffened his shoulders. She let go of him and reached for his chest.
Her palm rested on his solar plexus, waited impatiently for a rise and fall,
for a thump beneath.

Nothing.

Her palm hovered over his mouth, and she
waited for a rush of air.

None.

Her finger scrabbled for his throat just
behind his earlobe.

A flutter, but not much after it except for
a thready, cautious trembling.

She reached for his mouth and pulled his
mouth open, easing her own down over his so that no air could escape. She
inhaled through her nose and sent a silent plea to The Deities to fill her
lungs with sweet air. She exhaled.

It was nothing like the time his mouth had
been on hers before. Back then his lips were moist and warm, pleasant in a
heart-stopping way. This time those same lips were dry and hot and frightening
in a heart-stopping way. This time there was no pleasure, only steely focus.
She breathed in, lifted her mouth from his, waited, breathed in again.

Each time she thought the fire within him
would ignite her mouth and lungs. Each time she felt her own air rise in
temperature when it met his mouth, but she exhaled anyway, hoping the heat
wouldn't burn his lungs.

She was near exhaustion when she thought
she felt it: a short, rasp against her cheek. She nearly laughed out loud from
relief.

"Yenic?"

A louder breath this time, one she couldn't
misinterpret. Thank The Deities.

Now if she could just get him to the water.

She grasped him again, and pulled with all
she had left, stepped backwards, yanked again. Stepped to feel the gasping
coldness of the stream. This time she did laugh.

She let her fingers walk to his legs and
pulled them so they could find the water. He slipped easily into the stream
then; she could hold his head and torso close to the bank, but leave most of
his body in the water, could hear the current fetching against him and
complaining. It was the sweetest sound she'd heard in days.

She stroked his hair, feeling over and over
again for a pulse at his neck, never quite daring to believe it was getting
stronger.

The sun was bleeding onto the horizon when
his eyes fluttered open. Only then did she pull him back onto the bank, strip
him, and with his help, settle him back into the fur. She worked on a small,
but passable fire to keep any chill from devouring his body after the rapid
cool down of the stream. After, without a word, she settled next to him.

She tried to be
gentle when she shook him awake. Exhausted as she was, she'd slept longer than
she'd hoped. In the light of full morning, she realized the full extent of his
wounds. Both eyes were swollen and a large gash over his right brow had bled
and caked overnight. The tattaus on his ribs were distorted from the swelling.
She had an incredible urge to feed him, to touch him, to make him feel better.

"Are you hungry?" She thought she
had some frog legs left over.

He shook his head. "Thirsty."

She had a water skin she'd filled from the
stream. He drank almost all of it.

"You had quite a battle," she
said. She couldn't help the pride in her voice when she said it.

He closed his eyes thoughtfully. "So
did they."

"Will Edulph let me be if I
agree?"

"I don't know. If you had control of
such a weapon as a temptress of the life blood, would you relinquish it?"

Her father hadn't, that much she knew. She
shook her head. "Probably not. Not if I were one of his kind."

"So we must make you a less valuable
weapon," he said, and tried to ease up onto his elbow but had to be content
to study her face from a flat-back position.

"How?"

"There are two ways. One is to become
so controlling of the power, no one else can control you. I've known a witch to
be able to bring lightening to a man and set stones ablaze."

"I can't do that."

"Of course not; you are a temptress of
fluid, not of fire." He tried unsuccessfully to get up again and fell back
with a groan.

"Everything is spinning." He
peered at her. "And you seem to have two noses. Beautiful as they are,
it's unnerving."

"You're going to hurt yourself."
She was set to help him, all perched on her elbows, leaning forward.

He let go a raspy chuckle. "Already
accomplished."

She thought about his words.
"Temptress of fire? Is there such a thing?"

"There are more. Earth. Water. Fire.
Air. I told you: balance." He pulled the fur beneath his chin and
shivered. Alaysha looked down at him. His fever had broken but wasn't gone
entirely. He was in no shape to stay alone; he was in no shape to continue.

"You have to stay here."

"No," he said, but he didn't open
his eyes.

"Then follow when you're better."
She hated leaving him, but she knew if he'd made it through the worst of last
night, he had a good chance--even if it was a long recuperation--of making it
through these next days.

"I am better."

She slipped out from beneath the blanket
and strode toward Barruch who was munching contentedly on grass. He didn't look
pleased at his impending journey. "Not long now, old man," she said.
"A couple of hours of riding." She stole a look over her shoulder at
Yenic to be sure he was still where she'd left him, then she worked at saddling
Barruch.

"You're better than last night, but
not better enough to come. Aedus and I will go to Sarum. I will bide my time
until we can escape."

"Your father?"

The voice came from so close behind her,
she startled. She turned and saw he was standing right there, wrapped in the
blanket. He was weaving to and fro and blinking repeatedly. Trying to stay
awake, probably.

"My father means nothing to me now.
What do I care if one more man dies? One more tribe?"

He collapsed onto the ground, the fur
puffing out around him. His words were slurred from fatigue and he kept rubbing
his eyes. Once, he peered, transfixed, at a spot somewhere beyond Alaysha.
"You'll be trading one master for another, I expect." He squinted
into the distance.

She shrugged and untied her scabbord and
sword from Barruch's pack, then laid it in easy reach should Yenic need to use
it. She gave him a long look, then turned, mounted, and pulled the reins tight.
Only then would she speak to his comment.

"It's a temporary enslavement. Once
Edulph's guard is down, I'll send Aedus to you."

He seemed to accept that. "Mind the
huts; take care those within don't see you."

She looked over her shoulder. There were no
huts anywhere near. No people. She shrugged. He must be concerned about her
going toward the village near the oasis. He'd want that spot
protected--wouldn't want Edulph or his men to know that's where they were
headed or where they'd end up meeting for fear they'd come and start the thing
all over again.

"I'll be careful."

"What are you going to do,
Alaysha?"

She couldn't help the grin stealing her
face, or the sense of burning anger that spread it like wildfire. "I plan
to suck them all dry."

She could tell she was close to the
encampment because of the noise. A set-down always owned its share of
extraordinary sounds that didn't belong in nature: the low hum of speech, the
high-pitch of tempers flaring. Sometimes there was a soft rush of fragrance on
the breeze that smelled of new fire and roasted meat. The one thing that gave
away a moving camp set down for a short siege was the whine of beasts, and
Barruch's ears always perked and twitched at that sound. If Alaysha reached out
to test the air for water, she would taste sweat and cooking water in
overabundance.

But she didn't need to.

She planned to find Aedus first, to see if
she could be squirreled away quietly without Alaysha having to reveal herself.
She reckoned she had a few hours until sunset, and she planned to use the time
to her advantage. She dismounted and looked around for a good spot to tether
Barruch. She had seen a knoll about a half kubit back that had sufficient tree
cover. She could walk him back there and hide him by piling branches all
around. Perhaps she'd use Aedus's trick of slicking her hair back with mud.
Maybe cover herself with it so she'd blend in to the wood cover.

She found a mud hole of considerable size.
Left from the last rain, it was dried of liquid, but the hollow left in the
land was filled with debris and leaf litter that had rotted there. The
combination made a revolting mess that slid easily over her hair, but it also
stunk. Barruch backed away from her when she tried to hide him behind tree
branches.

The snap of a twig behind her made her
jump. Yenic. How had he made it so far in his condition?

I told you to stay put." She turned to
scold him.

No one was there.

She squinted into the underbrush, searching
for a hare or deer. No other sound came. If it was Yenic, he'd have answered.
If it was an animal, it would have moved by now.

She stepped closer to Barruch, thinking to
pull her sword from its scabbard, and when she did, remembered she'd left it
with Yenic. She contented herself with the small dirk she used to cut fruit,
and palmed it quickly, the handle set behind her wrist.

The light shifted enough that she could
make out a set of eyes in the trees. Then another. Two, she could manage
without her power; three, and she wasn't sure she'd have a chance. So much for
sneaking into camp. She just hoped they'd not take another of Aedus's fingers
for her subterfuge.