Bastial Steel (28 page)

“Those kids didn’t seem barbaric.”

“No, but there are plenty of dangerous people who act just as civilized as you and me.”

Cleve thought of Kasko. “You’re right about that.”

When they reached the base of the hill, they sent their horses into a gallop, the village barely able to be seen by then. It had a wooden fence around it about the height of the Academy’s walls: ten feet tall. Though, it seemed to be intended more for protection against animals than men. It looked thin, as if Cleve could push it over with his shoulder if he was feeling completely himself.

It certainly could be burned by fire.

Cleve startled himself with the thought, unsure why it even came. Perhaps, some part of him figured it might be necessary.

The wind picked up, displacing his hair and giving him a chill.

“See the boy and girl yet?” Jek asked.

“Maybe. Or it could just be my eyes seeing what they want to see.”

“I’m going to use my wand to aim light in that direction. It’ll make us more obvious than a virgin in a brothel, though.” Jek’s tone was as if he was asking a question.

“I think it’s worth the risk.”

Jek drew his wand and held it steady for two breaths before grunting and snapping it in front of him.

Almost as bright as a flash of lightning, everything in front of them was lit…and then back to black.

Cleve and Jek both stopped their horses, startled by what they saw.

“Was that—” Jek started.

“A bunch of men on horseback with dogs?” Cleve guessed. It was difficult to tell. “And they’re coming toward us?”

“I was going to say men with wolves,” Jek said.

“Oh, you’re right. It was wolves.” Then Cleve heard the howls.

Neither of them moved nor said anything.

Though he thought about turning his horse, curiosity was holding Cleve in place. He figured it was the same for Jek.

“What could they want with us?” Cleve asked.

“I don’t know, but since they have my bandana and the wolves obviously know my scent, they could easily track us.” Jek dismounted.

“I take it you don’t want to run.” Cleve got off his horse as well.

“I try to avoid running when I can these days. I’ve had enough of it for a lifetime when I took Lisanda from the palace in that ill-advised kidnapping.”

“Fine with me.” Cleve drew his sword. “I’ve never been one to run.”

The men were close enough for Cleve and Jek to see they were carrying lamps.

“At least they aren’t mages,” Jek commented. Cleve could hear it in his tone—Jek’s body was tense, his mind focused.

Cleve felt himself harden in the same way. There could be a battle soon—one heavily not in their favor. At least no sleep attacks from the mooker poison were striking…yet.

When the men were even closer, Jek raised his wand and yelled, “Stop right there.”

They formed a line, their two wolves snarling. They were almost the size of the horses the men dismounted from.

Cleve started to count how many there were. But before he could finish, his knees gave out and he fell.

Somehow he’d managed to hold onto his sword, but everything had gone numb. He could hear Jek muttering, “Not again.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Cleve heard one man ask.

But Cleve was already on his way back up, his strength returning. “Nothing,” he answered.

He finished counting the men. There were six of them. The one in front had graying hair, long at the back, balding on top. But while his face showed old age, his body was muscular, and he stood with a straight back. In his hand was a sword, the other holding Jek’s bandana.

Cleve already knew he didn’t like this man, something about his wind-burned face and his beady eyes.

“What do you want with us?” Jek asked, his tone between curious and aggressive.

“That depends,” the old man answered. “My name is Enri. What are your names, and where are you from?”

“Just give me my bandana and let us go.” Jek took a brave step toward Enri, one Cleve would’ve waited to take.

An archer behind Enri drew an arrow and pulled back his string. Jek stopped, raising his hands. To Cleve’s surprise, Jek slowly turned around and shook his head as he walked back to Cleve’s side. The motion was so calm, it was as if the mage felt no danger from the arrow now aimed at his back. Jek sighed in frustration, mumbled something under his breath about archers, found his place next to Cleve, and turned around again to face them.

“It’s rude to show your rear,” Enri said, looking as if he wanted to spit.

“It can’t be worse than stealing and then aiming bows at people,” Jek retorted, a dangerously pompous smile forming.

“What do you want?” Cleve said, before Enri decided to give his archer the order to shoot.

Then Cleve felt rain touch his arms. The wind was picking up as well.

“It’s going to be a stormy night, boys,” Enri said. “And we don’t want to stay out here any longer than we need to, so help us out and answer my questions.” He shrugged. “Or we might just kill you here.” With his plain tone, Enri did a fine job demonstrating how little their lives meant to him. “What are your names? Tell me.”

Jek turned to whisper to Cleve, “Are any of them psychics?”

“I can’t tell unless they use psyche on me. No one has—” An arrow flew between their faces, interrupting Cleve.

“You do anything but answer my question again, and you’re both dead,” Enri said. He sounded enraged, perhaps even embarrassed he wasn’t doing well at frightening Cleve and Jek.

Proud and impatient,
Cleve realized.
Those can be the most dangerous kinds of men.

“I’m Jek Trayden. This is Cleve Polken. We’re from Goldram, allies of Zav—”

“We know nothing about allies,” Enri interrupted. “We may live in Zav, but this here is
our
land.” He thumped his chest. “Now what are you doing out here?”

“Just headed back to Goldram,” Jek answered. Cleve could hear some nervousness slipping out. It was becoming clear a conversation wasn’t going to be the last thing they shared with these men.

“Do you work for the King?” Enri asked, taking a step forward.

“We do,” Jek answered, turning to show Cleve a concerned glance.

Cleve tightened his grip on his sword.

“You stay honest like that and you’ll live.” Enri tilted his head at Jek, as if giving advice. “How many Bastial steel swords are both of you worth? I’m thinking five. That sound about right?”

“Maybe a dagger between the two of us,” Jek answered. “We mean very little to the King of Goldram, just low-level scouts who can be replaced. It’s better if you let us go.”

Enri took another step forward, now with a smile. “Want to know how I know you’re lying?”

Jek folded his arms. “It’s the truth.”

“First, you’re not a very good liar. Second, you’re an idiot. Your friend here has a Bastial steel sword on him right now.” Enri gestured with a hand.

Cleve felt like an idiot himself for having the sword out of its sheath, but then again he didn’t know Jek was going to try lying.

Jek looked over and slapped his forehead reflexively. “Bastial hell, Cleve.”

Before he could retort, Enri pointed his sword at Cleve. The wolves started snarling again. “One more lie and he dies right now.” Enri held Cleve in his gaze, continuing to point his sword at him. It was several breaths before he finally looked back at Jek. “I’m asking you again: How many are you worth?”

“Maybe four between the two of us, could be five.”

Everything always boils down to Bastial steel.

Cleve was certain now that this continent would’ve been better off without the precious metal, especially given how few Bastial steel weapons were used to kill desmarls compared to fellow Humans.

Jek seemed to have the same thought, for Cleve noticed him rolling his eyes when he answered Enri.

“Now, you’re going to come with us and wait in our village while we send a message to your king,” Enri instructed, his confident tone really beginning to irritate Cleve. “If you cooperate, you won’t be harmed.”

“You can’t possibly expect that to work?” Jek said, seemingly perplexed. If he wasn’t legitimately confused, then he sure acted it well.

In return, Enri seemed puzzled by Jek’s question. But he didn’t let his confusion show for long. Soon, anger had taken back over his face. “It’ll work fine, and if you resist, you’ll die.”

“Yes, you can take us back and hold us captive. Of course, you can get a message to Danvell Takary. And yes, they’ll even come over here with Bastial swords…but not to give them to you. They’ll be in the hands of a few hundred men sent here to kill you.” Jek leaned back and folded his arms assertively. “Your plan won’t work.”

“It will when you write the note yourself, pleading for the King of Goldram to oblige,” Enri replied, a cool smile stuck to his face. “You’ll tell him that we’ll kill you if he sends an army. Someone within the palace can verify your handwriting, I’m sure.”

“Yes, but why would I do that?” Jek asked.

“Because we’re also sending them one of your fingers…and if you resist, we’ll send your whole hand instead.”

Jek stared at Enri as silence fell back upon them. Cleve tried to read what Jek was thinking, but his face told none of his thoughts in that moment. He held no expression, as if he was simply waiting for Enri to act.

Finally, Jek turned to Cleve, showing the same face as he had to Enri. It was as if he was asking,
what do you want to do?

Cleve knew what he wanted to do, but he didn’t know how to tell Jek without making it clear to the others.

Then he realized it didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if they’d have the element of surprise anyway.

“You picked the wrong two people,” Cleve muttered, running toward the old man.

Complete shock made Enri’s eyes double in size. “Shoot them!” He fell backward as he said it, quickly scrambling back to his feet to retreat.

Cleve rolled to the side to dodge the arrow he knew had to be coming. Amid the battle cries of his enemies, he still noticed the sound of an arrow pass by his ear.

“Get the archer!” Cleve yelled to Jek, popping back to his feet to chase down the old man.

There was a flash of light—a fireball. A man screamed.

“He’s down,” Jek yelled back.

Just before Cleve was in range to take off Enri’s leg, he noticed a blur of gray leaping toward him.
The damn wolves.

He turned and slashed, feeling his sword drive into the poor beast’s skull.

There were two. Where’s the other?

Lightning flashed through the sky, rain pouring down. Cleve saw the other wolf then, rushing toward Jek. The mage held his wand steady and released another fireball. It sent the animal spiraling backward.

Two men were on Cleve next, each one cursing at him. One had on a helmet, and Cleve kicked him away after ducking under a wild swing.

The other one jabbed his weapon forward. The motion was sloppy, leaving him undefended. Cleve put his sword through the man’s chest after dodging his attack.

The first man was back, along with another wearing a steel helmet. Cleve thought to check on Enri, but he didn’t have time to look around. Who knew what the old man was doing?
Did Jek take care of him already?
Cleve had to jump backward to dodge the two men furiously trying to drive their weapons into him.

There was another flash, but this one sent Cleve soaring for what felt like seconds before he hit the ground. Thunder came with it, so loud it shook his heart. On reflex, he let go of his sword before somersaulting three times when he hit the ground. He didn’t want his weapon to end up in one of his limbs.

His ears were ringing. He didn’t see anyone for a moment—or really anything, for that matter, he soon came to realize.

He tried to yell, “Jek? Jek!” But he couldn’t even hear his own voice over the loud ringing stuck in his ears.

Cleve pushed himself to his feet, only to trip and fall. The second time had the same result.

He shouted again, and he could hear his voice this time. It was muffled, as if he heard himself in the distance.
What was that?
Stumbling, he found his sword and looked to where he thought everyone should be.

Three men were picking themselves up off the ground. Jek was there too, shaking his head while doubled over.

“Was that you?” Cleve yelled to Jek, running over to help him stand up.

Jek was even more dazed than Cleve, shutting his eyes and opening them as if he couldn’t see and thought blinking would help.

Rain and wind were terrorizing Cleve’s senses as they started sharpening back to normal.

“Jek! Can you hear me?” Cleve grabbed his face and patted his cheek. Jek finally looked over and seemed to recognize Cleve. “Jek—”

“What was that?” Jek interrupted. He pointed his wand and let out some light.