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Authors: Selina Rosen

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BOOK: Jabone's Sword
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Kasiria didn't want to think about what Jabone had just told her. They had both taken their human forms back but now she wondered if that had been such a good idea, at least in her case. Jabone could become Katabull any time he wanted but Kasiria couldn't and now . . . Well Jabone said he smelled them the minute the wind shifted before they'd even finished setting camp.
"They figured out where we were going. They've cut us off and now they are waiting for us. In order to get to the garrison we will have to go through them," Jabone said. "It's better we don't tell the others. We all need rest and food if we are to face the Amalite horde." He spit, and this time Kasiria did, too.

"What if they come for us tonight?" Kasiria asked, thinking it was a good question.

"Why would they come for us when all they have to do is wait for us to come to them? And they know we are Katabull, that we have a witch with us, that we can see in the dark and they can't. They are a superstitious lot. They have a saying, 'If you see the Katabull at night death will come in the morning' . . . something like that. It's close anyway."

She nodded. He knew more about them than she did. She had thought she knew everything there was to know about warfare, thought that she was ready for it, but you could never be ready for what had happened to them yesterday afternoon. Everything she thought she knew amounted to nothing when applied to real conflict.

Jabone had taken over last night. She should have been in command but Jabone had taken over and she was happy to have him do it because at that point, deeply grieved over the loss of a mentor and friend and seeing nothing but death and carnage all around her she just didn't have any idea what to do.

He told everyone that he's Tarius's son last night. So now he has kept no secret from me, but I am still keeping secrets from him. Gods! He asked me to exchange tokens with him and he gives me this.
She held up her wrist and looked at it.
This thing created by the hands of Jena for Tarius and given to him by her hand to protect him—and what do I give him? The gold medallion with my father's seal on it that he had made for all his daughters on their birth. So now my beloved is wearing the crest of the man that tried to ruin his family.

She shook her head. There was no time for frivolous thought. She had been calling Hellibolt all night and all day, and now as she neared the point of utter exhaustion she found herself alone in the woods calling out for him, thinking that perhaps that it was against wizard protocol to just pop up in front of everyone.

"Hellibolt please," she said for the twentieth time. Then she just looked all around her. "You always show up when I don't really need you and now where the hell are you?" she demanded.

"I'm assuming you're doing something in the woods besides trying to become an Amalite's dinner," Jestia said, walking out of the shadows.

"I was . . . "

"Unless I'm wrong—and let's face it I hardly ever am—he should be appearing shortly right about there." Jestia pointed to a spot on the ground and then there was Hellibolt looking very put out. He glared at Jestia.

"You have gotten way too powerful, way too quickly young witch." Then he turned to Kasiria. "I always show up when you don't need me? Don't need me? I seem to remember getting you out of a couple of jams."

"I knew it," Jestia said smugly. "I knew I kept feeling magic." She looked at Kasiria. "So how does a sword slinger come to have the king's wizard in their pocket? That's quite a trick."

Hellibolt frowned. "Don't be so smug, Jestia, I actually need you here. How is your mother the Queen by the way?"

Jestia seemed to size Kasiria up and guessed correctly that Kasiria already knew. "My mother the queen is fine. Safe in the Kartik which is more than I can say for me. Now can you help us or not?"

Kasiria wanted to smack her for the dismissive tone in her voice.

"Can you help us, Hellibolt? Hit them with a wall of fire or something?" Kasiria asked quickly before the old wizard just popped out of existence again.

"You have wall of fire?" Jestia asked excitedly.
"No," Hellibolt said, "but I do have this nice little ball lighting spell. Quite a crowd pleaser and it will actually blow things apart."

"Oh! I'd love to have that one," Jestia said.

"Hey!" Kasiria demanded, and they turned to look at her as if she'd just stuffed a whole cat into her mouth. "Pearson garrison is on the other side of the Amalite horde and at our backs is nothing for a three week ride but the Amalite frontier. We need help, Hellibolt. Some grand spell."

"I can't," Hellibolt said.

"I have a stealth spell. We could try going around behind them through the woods," Jestia said.

"There is no behind them. The river is on one side and they cover the ground on the other side," Hellibolt said. "You'd be going between them and their lair, and I doubt they'll sleep 'til they've killed you all, so a stealth spell wouldn't be much help."

"Forde the river then," Kasiria suggested.

"And when we're waste deep in the cold water we will be easy for them to kill," Jestia explained.

"Well do something," she demanded of Hellibolt. "And what do you mean you can't cast a spell to help us?"

"He's not here," Jestia said, and stuck her hand into him.

"Hey!" Hellibolt protested.

"It's just an image of him. He's astral projecting. A picture can't do a spell," Jestia said.

"But . . . The first time I became the Katabull you cast a spell on the men so that they wouldn't remember."

"Oh," Hellibolt said. "So you do admit that I've been helpful then?"

"You cast a spell from image?" Jestia asked excitedly.

"Well," Hellibolt said humbly, "it was only a day's ride from my actual presence and it was a simple memory loss spell."

"Still very impressive," Jestia said with real admiration.

"Hey!" Kasiria exclaimed again. "I hate to break up your little magic-users party, but Amalite horde lying in wait, impending death."

"He could tell the king to send troops," Jestia suggested.

"Help is already on the way." He looked with meaning at Jestia then. "All you have to do is make sure young Jabone stays here and waits for it to arrive. Do not allow him to attack the Amalites."

Jestia nodded then said, "Hey that ball lighting spell couldn't hurt." But he was gone. "Gods and spiders," she cursed. She looked hard at Kasiria. "So are you going to tell me how you come to be so familiar with the king's wizard?"

"No, and I'd rather you didn't tell Jabone." Kasiria watched as Jestia nodded and started out of the woods.

"You coming?"

Kasiria followed, inwardly fuming because Jestia had something to hold over her head, and given the girl's nature Kasiria was sure that she would.

When they walked back into camp Ufalla and Jabone—who'd obviously been getting ready to look for them—came running up and said at exactly the same time, "Where the hell were you? Don't run off like that again."

Jabone stopped there but Ufalla went on to say to Jestia, "Or I'll beat you to within an inch of your life."

Jestia slid up to Ufalla and slipped her arms around her. "Beat me, huh?"

Ufalla smiled in spite of herself and said sliding her arms around Jestia's waist, "Oh at least that."

Kasiria could tell by the look on Jabone's face that he was mad even before he spoke. "Jestia, do you think you could quit being in heat long enough to concentrate on the problem at hand?"

"But I've already done that." Jestia turned to look at him. "I had to find a good tree to cast bones against and your good lady was kind enough to look over me while I did so. We should not try to go down the road. We must wait here."

"That makes no sense Jestia," Jabone said. "They will eventually just get tired of waiting and come to attack us or just keep us from getting supplies and watch us starve to death."

She released Ufalla who didn't let go of her. Jestia held a delicate wrist to her forehead and said, "I have seen it. Help is on the way and we must wait for them to get here."

Gods! She lies as easily as she tells the truth.
Kasiria thought.
Of course I'm the one who doesn't want her to say how she really knows, so I guess that lie she just told was really mine.
As if to drive this point home Jestia looked at her and winked. Then she squirmed away from Ufalla, took her hand, and started dragging her away.

Jabone watched them walk away with an air of confusion. He looked at Kasiria. "I don't know if we can trust Jestia's council."

"Because she's over sexed or because she said something you didn't want to hear?"

Jabone smiled then—the first smile she'd seen on his face since the attack. He kissed her gently on the cheek. "They have always said that I am just like my madra, that I worry too much, and now I find that like her I don't want to wait to be attacked. I would rather be the one to attack. But if help is really on the way as Jestia says . . . Alone, I don't think we have much chance of getting through them."

 

Chapter 17

Persius stared at the court herald, and thundered, "What do you mean no word has come back from Derek's troop?"

"Sire, runners bring news every day of troops in the field and now no runner has come into Pearson Garrison in three full days."

He knew well what the runner system was, it was a system set up by Tarius the Black. Riders were set up at stations between the troop and it's base and in this way supplies could be sent more quickly when needed and news of the actions of a troop could be easily relayed. He had known days ago what shape Derek and his troop had found Grey Noke in because of a runner. He had sent word right then to have the troop—and subsequently his daughter—removed from the field, but he doubted now that they had even gotten that message.

"Send a troop to Grey Noke immediately and have Derek's troop extracted at once," the king ordered. Then when the herald seemed like he was in no hurry to depart he yelled, "Do it now!!!"

"Yes sire," the man said, and then bowed and ran off.

Persius sat on his throne and ran his hand through his thinning hair. "Oh Kasiria, please be safe," he moaned. The runner system while better than the nothing they'd had before, still left a lot to be desired. The news you got through them was always at least days old. What was actually happening in the field might have changed twenty times by the time Persius got the news. It left him to make decisions based on what he knew—which might be far different from actual facts. Master Heath might have already sent in a troop to extract Derek's. Or he might be waiting for word from the crown. Either way by the time they got the news to the garrison and got a troop assembled it could be too late. It might already be too late. He wanted to know what was happening and he wanted to know now. That meant one thing.

"Hellibolt!" he summoned with a yell. The old wizard was his best chance of getting first-hand information about what was happening out there. If he could get him to cooperate with him which could be difficult to impossible depending on the wizard's mood.

Hellibolt appeared before him. "Persius, what is it you need now?"

"Why must you always act as if it is I who serve you instead of you who serve me?"

"I guess it's just my contrary nature. Now what do you want?"

"It's Kasiria. Her troop is missing."

"Are they? Well I found them easy enough. Well some of them anyway . . . "

"Enough of your games old fool. Have you seen Kasiria?"

"Yes."

"Is she safe?"

"No, no not at all, but she's in good health," Hellibolt said.

"Dammit man, you told me Kasiria would be safe as long as I allowed her to follow her will."

"No, I believe I said she would live. You never truly live if you're always safe," Hellibolt said.

Persius pulled at what was left of his hair and said, "Why must you torment me with your word play and riddles? If you know what is going on out there tell me what it is I should do."

"There is nothing for you to do," Hellibolt said sadly. "It's beyond forces that either you or I control now. Only trust in Kasiria, Persius, she is stronger than you can know and in more than one way."

And then he was gone.

* * *

By the third day the Amalites hung in the trees at the edge of the field and screamed taunts at them. At least they were sure they were taunts though of course they couldn't understand a word they were saying. The Amalites launched arrows that landed on the edge of their camp. Their bows and their lack of strength kept the arrows from coming any closer. Still it was unnerving. Until then the tattered remains of their troop had been sleeping in shifts but now they were all fully armed and armored, ready. Some were on horseback, some on foot with the big shields they called scootums, and a couple with spears and pikes. Jestia had insisted they keep a huge fire burning and no one had grumbled about feeding it. The Jethriks might not be comfortable with witchcraft but they'd all seen the Amalites flee before Jestia's bats and knew she was their best chance of survival if the Amalites got up the courage to attack.

It wouldn't be long now. Their fear had been keeping them at bay but it wouldn't for much longer. They hoped to force the troop into the treeline where they had the advantage, but they had taken all the supplies with them when they had fled and with considerably fewer mouths to feed and the ability to hunt they weren't going to run out of supplies any time soon. Their antagonists had figured out that they weren't going to starve them out, and that's why they had started to taunt them. They wanted the troop to run into the treeline to attack them.

Jabone wasn't stupid enough to lead a charge into the treeline. He had, however, had enough of waiting. It was only a matter of time now 'til they attacked and he badly want to strike the first blow.

He called on the night, sheathed his sword, grabbed a bow and knocked an arrow.

"No, Jabone!" Jestia called out, running towards him, but he ignored her aimed and fired. An Amalite archer fell from a tree and then another and another. One for every arrow he shot. He could hear some of the men firing cross bows now, too, but he couldn't be bothered to see what they were doing. He was completely consumed with getting as many of the archers as he could. Even Jestia slapping him in the shoulder and screaming, "You idiot!" didn't distract him from what he was doing.

BOOK: Jabone's Sword
4.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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