This Battle Lord's Quest (12 page)

“I’m coming, too,” a soft voice gasped.

Yulen knelt down at the man panting on the ground.
Slowly, Renken sat up and turned to the doctor. “I made it this far without too
much difficulty. Wrap me up real tight and give me a bag of that gray crap to
help me cope with the pain.”

“Oh, I’ll bandage you, all right. Then I’ll have
the soldiers tie you to a horse so you come back with us.”

Renken glared at the physician. “Just try it, old
man. See how far you get. Now wrap some fucking bandages around me, and let me
go look for Atty!”

Yulen spoke before MaGrath could reply. “Garet is
not under my command. He’s a free man, just like Fortune.” He lowered his brows
at Renken. “If you don’t keep up with my pace, I’ll leave you behind.”

“Fair enough. I hear you got a horse for me.”

Yulen motioned for the remaining riderless horse to
be brought forward and directed his next order to his Second. “As soon as Liam
has him bandaged, help him mount.”

He got to his feet and walked over to where
Paxton’s travois was lashed to the back of the other extra horse. The mud pack had
been replaced with a poultice and bandages, but the man’s face was waxy white,
and covered with beads of perspiration. Each breath he took was shallow. Yulen
fingered the ragged edges of the bloody shirt.

“Ride with your swords drawn,” the Battle Lord ordered
the two soldiers. He started to address MaGrath when the man shoved his
medicine bag at him.

“Here. Take it. Don’t argue with me on this. I’ve
pulled out what I think I’ll need in case he wakes up, but you might have use
for some of the other medicants once you find Atty.”

“I don’t know what’s what in here,” Yulen objected.

“Everything’s labeled, thanks to your mother’s
foresight. She had me put short descriptions on every bottle, vial, and pouch,
in case something happened to me, and she had to be the one to save me.”

The two men stared at each other for another couple
of moments.

“Good luck, Yulen,” MaGrath whispered. “I’ll pray
you find her alive and well, and you both return home soon. Don’t worry about
Mattox.”

They embraced, then Yulen stepped back as the
physician climb up onto his horse. Blaid took the lead, guiding the horse with
the travois. MaGrath positioned himself behind his patient, with Tarten
guarding their rear.

The Battle Lord watched as they vanished into the
forest. He was vaguely aware of someone coming to stand beside him.

“We’ll find her, Yulen,” Fortune murmured.

“Is that your Mutah senses telling you that?” he
asked, half-hoping.

“Maybe, but it includes some prayers, too.”

They stood and listened until they could no longer
hear the sound of the small party pushing through the underbrush. Yulen glanced
up at the last rays of sunset piercing the trees. They could press on, but
Renken needed rest. He owed the man that much because of what he’d done to save
Paxton.

“It’s getting dark. Let’s camp here tonight, and be
on our way at first light.”

If anyone replied, he didn’t hear them. Striding
over to the tree where Atty had carved her initial, he ran his fingers over the
scratches.

Hold on, Atrilan. We’re coming for you. Just hold
on, my love. It won’t be long now.

If there was any truth to their connection, and if
he, as a Normal, was able to send his thoughts to her, he prayed she heard him.

Chapter
Fifteen

East

Sunlight filtered through the dry brush blocking
the entrance to the den. She opened her eyes and stared at it. Her mind was
dazed, and for several seconds she couldn’t figure out where she was.

Uncurling brought back the pain of bruised and
abused muscles, and with the pain came the memory of last night.

The dead coon.

The pond.

Hurt. Hurt so damn bad.

Cold.

 
Holding her
injured arm tightly against her chest, she crawled out of the den. Dizziness
hit her again, turning the world into a spinning, sickening mess. Forcing her
to lie on the carpet of dead leaves and wait for the moment to pass. Her
stomach heaved, but nothing came up. Her throat felt raw. She needed something
to drink.

Finally able to sit up, she looked around.

East.

The trees were fuzzy.

She blinked and ran the back of her good hand over
her eyes. Her vision cleared a little, but things were still hazy around the
edges.

East.

Using the tree to help her keep her balance, she
managed to stand. Thankfully, the whirling in her head wasn’t as bad as she
expected.

“Why am I here?” she croaked as she turned around.
Why was she in the middle of a forest? And why was she alone? Something niggled
in the back of her mind that it was dangerous to be alone in the woods. Her
hand automatically went to the dagger belted to her thigh, and she remembered
she was going to need a big stick.

East.

She took a step, then another. Her muscles
throbbed, but not to where she’d pass out. Checking the bushes, she found a
slender but sturdy branch that would make a nice whacking stick. It also helped
to lean on it. She stripped the smaller limbs and leaves off it, and beat it
experimentally against the ground. It was more than satisfactory.

“Got my weapon. Now what?”

Water.

“Oh, yeah.” She looked overhead and noticed the sun
had barely risen.

East.

She needed to go east. Why, she had no idea. Only
that a little voice inside her kept insisting she go that way. Maybe it was
because she was originally from that direction. Maybe her home lay to the east.

“Okay. You win. East it is.” But first she needed
to find something to drink, and soon.

She pressed into the brush, taking care not to jostle
her bad arm. The coon hide strips she’d wrapped it in had dried overnight, and
the stiffened skin made for excellent binding.

As the sun ascended, so did the temperature.
Combined with her need for water, she felt her meager energy quickly draining
away. The wooziness continued to come and go, and she had to stop frequently to
sit and wait for it to ease up.

When the sun was almost directly overhead, she
entered a clearing ringed by several low-lying plants with broad green leaves.
She sniffed.

She smelled water.

Limping over to the closest plant, she noticed
small pockets of rain water captured and held by the leaves. Brushing away a
couple of ants, she placed her lips to the leaves and sucked up the minute
amount. It barely made for a mouthful, but it helped.

She checked all the plants nearby, and managed to
gather up enough water to quench the burning in her throat. There was also a
small bush of blueberries amid the thorny branches of a needle bush. Using the
stick to hold aside the prickly spines, she managed to gather two handfuls of
berries without getting her arm too scratched up.

The water and the fruit helped tremendously. After
resting for a few more minutes, she was ready to continue onward.

East.

Hoisting herself up, she pushed on. One step at a
time, one yard at a time. Trees moved from the front to the back, but basically
it all looked the same. It all smelled the same, too, except for the rancid
odor coming from the coon strips. She should have scraped the hide clean of all
muscle, and washed off the blood before wrapping up her arm, but last night...

What happened last night? Why did a coon have a
hold on me?

It was a blur that made her head ache. The only
thing that kept her focused was watching where she was going. Moving aside the
brush with her stick, in case something was hiding beneath it. Every now and
then, she’d stop to get her bearings, but when the sun began its descent behind
her, she realized she still didn’t know where she was going, nor did she have
any idea how long it might take for her to get there.

Something rustled in the leaves. Her dagger was in
her hand before she was aware of it. Standing perfectly still, she watched and
waited for whatever was moving toward her. Presently, a large snake about three
feet in length slithered around a tree trunk. A part of her automatically
reacted as she flipped the blade into her palm and threw it at the snake
without thinking. The keen edge neatly bit through the neck, severing the head.

She stared at the dead serpent, shocked by what she’d
done.

“Damn! Would you look at that? I’m
good
with
that thing!”

She crushed the open jaws beneath her boot heel,
then took the body over to a fallen tree where she laid it out, and quickly
gutted and skinned it, continuously amazed how she was able to do such a thing
with ease. A search of the ground for a piece of flint she could use to start a
fire yielded nothing, and the light was starting to fade to the point where
hunting further would be pointless. Steeling herself, she ate the snake raw.
Amazingly, she managed to keep it down, and the protein gave her renewed
energy.

At one point, she stared at the small pile of bones
in her hands. Picking one up, she glanced from it to the patch of dirt at her
feet, then threw the rib at the ground. The bone bounced and lay sideways.

“That’s not right,” she muttered to herself, and
tried again, with the same results. Something was wrong with the way the bone
fell, but her mind refused to give her any clues, and she was too tired to
dwell on it any further.

As she had the night before, she looked up at the
trees and eyed their branches. A shudder went through her, and she again
dismissed the idea of climbing one to sleep in. Unfortunately, the trees in
this part of the forest were not prone to have large roots that lay close to
the surface. She’d need to find another sort of shelter.

Keep moving.

“All right, already! Sheesh! Irritating little
voice.”

As she continued on, she noticed the terrain got
rockier and the trees began to thin out. It made walking easier, wherever she
was going. She sniffed. Even the smell was different. Less earthy.

“I may not know squat about where I’m headed, but
at least I’m making good time!” she laughed to herself. She felt good,
re-energized. Her arm hadn’t given her much trouble that day, and her head and
her vision seemed to be clearing up.

“Yeah, it would. Just my luck. Right about the time
I’m ready to cover more ground, it’s time to call it a day.”

On the bright side, with the change in the
landscape, there was the chance she could find a small cave to sleep in. A
glance over her shoulder revealed the sun to be disappearing below the
treetops. Night would come early. She sniffed again. It smelled of something
like rain, but not rain, coming toward her. It was enough to spur her into
moving a bit faster.

A few hundred more yards, and she paused to catch
her breath. Birds squawked overhead. She caught sight of a nest of squirrels
leaping from limb to limb. The sun threw orange rays underneath the clouds
moving rapidly across the sky. The wind that had been a gentle breeze some
minutes ago was gradually gaining strength.

Up ahead, she noticed another break in the trees.
Maybe she’d get lucky and find a spot to settle in for the night.

 
Pushing
past the tree line, she stopped. All thought escaped her as the blood in her
body sank to her feet, and she stared slack-jawed at the vista that lay before
her.

Nearly fifty yards away, the earth vanished. In the
far distance, enormous mountains jutted upward like the teeth of some enormous
creature. At least, she thought they were called mountains. She’d never seen
real ones in her life, only those in the ancient books her teachers had shown
her.

Cautiously, she moved closer to the edge of the
world. Below, she could see massive rock structures rising from the depths,
covered in a tangle of trees and other foliage. The oddly shaped structures
were all sizes and widths. Some were even square and rectangular, as if they’d
been carved.

More shocking, a thin ribbon of silver ran between
the structures. She eyed the river’s meandering route, all the way to the wide
body of water lying at the base of the mountains.

A lake. It was a real lake. And those were real
mountains.

She never heard the person exit the forest behind
her until he spoke.

“Who are you?”

Whirling around, she bent and held out her dagger
to defend herself. Another surge of dizziness reared its ugly head, and she
stumbled sideways until she managed to regain her equilibrium. Once her vision
cleared, she studied the stranger.

The person was human or Mutah. And female. Her
painted skin was covered with white slashes, and she wore strange looking
garments. Her hair was also a very odd shade of purplish-red. If she was Mutah,
it was difficult to tell which distinction was her mark, or maybe it was hidden
like...like...

She frowned and shook her head. Why couldn’t she
remember?

“Who are you?” the woman asked in a deep, flat
voice, glancing over her. She held a long spear in her hands, and it was aimed
directly at her.

She straightened, but kept the dagger’s blade
pointing at the stranger. It would be a short fight if the stranger chose to
push it. There was no way she could defeat the woman when her own body was
damaged, she was down to one arm, and her weapon was grossly unequal to what
appeared to be a razor-thin edge on the tip of the long spear.

“Answer me! Who are you?”

“I...”

Her head started pounding again. She hissed at the
pain that suddenly rose up in a massive tangle of reddish agony. “I don’t know,”
she admitted, dropping the dagger and lifting her hand to her forehead.
God,
it hurts so bad!
“I don’t know,” she barely managed to repeat, forced to
whisper because even the sound of her own voice brought her more agony.

The next moment, her legs completely gave way, and
she collapsed to the ground.