Altered Destiny (9 page)

The first time he’d seen Selia and Oren, the scent of a wounded bobcat had drawn him, but he’d retreated when he’d smelled, then heard, a human approach. Oren’s reaction to the wounded animal surprised him. In his experience, humans didn’t like other predators, and even though it was weak and helpless, the bobcat was a full-grown hunter. But Oren hadn’t killed it. He’d laid brush over the animal and ran back the way he’d come. Jaden stayed out of curiosity. Soon, Oren returned with a woman—Selia. He thought the woman would scold the man but she hadn’t. She helped him make a travois and together, they carried the weak but still spitting bobcat toward their dwelling. It was unusual behavior for humans, and for Svistra for that matter. He’d been about to put the animal out of its misery.

For several days, he lingered around the barn until one night a much-bandaged Oren released a very angry, but mended bobcat back into the wild.

He stirred the fire. Ironic. Months later, those same hands would bandage him. Oren was one of the few truly gentle humans he’d known. Though Selia wore a tougher skin, she’d brought him into the barn when she could have left him to die. He feared for her. What was to come would not be easy, and those who dared to care would be hurt the most.

He reached for an arrow in his pack and held it to the fire light, studying the sharp tip. Handmade, and well done. The arrow had only just missed him. Before the last band of Svistra found him, he’d trailed Selia a few times on her way to town and back—mostly to see if her journey would lure a Svistra into the open. He wanted to see which tribes were involved. He’d kept his distance and stayed downwind until that last trip.

As he followed Selia before the soldiers attacked her, he hadn’t found any fresh signs of Svistra and at the time, he’d been more relieved than curious or concerned. But he still followed her. He hadn’t wanted to take any chances. She’d sensed his nearness and nearly killed him.

He returned the arrow to his pack.

Perhaps Selia was more of a predator than she liked to admit. But in this game she was woefully unprepared. And outmatched.

Arfaltel’s ears perked up and swiveled presumably hoping for the command Keldar wouldn’t give. The horse’s eagerness to surge matched his own. The rider approaching his caravan was one of his men, and he hoped carried good news. Keldar raised his hand to stop the warriors’ progression behind him and waited. Next to him, Noe’s white stallion pranced.

The Svistra messenger drew his lathered beast to a halt a distance from Keldar’s place at the head of the column. After dismounting, the Svistra neared on foot.

“Commander.” He lowered his head to expose the back of his neck.

He stared at the messenger from his perch on Arfaltel’s back. “You have news for me?”

The Svistra produced a leather wrapped document.

Keldar felt rather than saw Noe glance at it with interest. “This has seen much hardship.” He unrolled the travel-stained leather and turned the letter over in his hands, checking the intact seal before raising an eyebrow, waiting.

“I wouldn’t know, Commander. I received it from a human who had wandered for some time through the forest. He was looking for you.”

“He found you instead, I take it?”

“No, we found him.”

Although the tone had remained respectful, Keldar detected a slight emphasis on the word “him” and didn’t attempt to hide a smile. He wished he could have been present at that event. The king’s messenger had surely needed a fresh pair of trousers by the time he’d successfully handed over the message. “He was unharmed?”

“He will have no complaints.”

“I see.” Cryptic. But the warrior had shown the proper respect, and he let it pass. Besides, if he didn’t know the details, he would have nothing to deny. “Thank you. Stay with the caravan. Rest.”

The warrior bowed and backed away.

“Your name?”

The Svistra froze, and then slowly lifted his head, but not slow enough to hide his startled expression before composing his features. “Darthal, Commander.”

“Darthal, you have done well.”

“Thank you, Commander.” The man walked back to his horse, then swung up on the saddle to wait at one side of the road.

Keldar motioned the caravan to move. He’d already sent ten bands, each comprised with a half dozen of his best warriors, into the southern lands, both to ready camps and to scent out his brother. Once they found Jaden, they had orders to report the traitor’s location before taking any action. His brother had proved slippery in the past. He wouldn’t escape justice again. He wouldn’t give Jaden the chance to ruin the Svistra’s best chance to reclaim their lands. As his men searched the land, he’d given the Svistra parties free rein to create as much or as little trouble as they liked. The humans would get a taste of what was to come.

Noe sat atop her snow-white stallion like a baroness, her cloak rippling over the horse’s hindquarters in shades of gold and orange. Keldar’s nostrils flared. In Svistra-held territory, he’d have approved of such a display of wealth, but in human-held lands, the cloak stood out in the forest like a cardinal in the snow.

Noe’s pale skin gleamed with perfection under the scant light. The skies remained heavy and grey, but withheld its rain. She hadn’t wanted to travel south with him, even after the formal joining ceremony. Not that she had protested his ruling; Noe was too smart for that. She showed her rebellion in the little things, like wearing a brightly colored silken cloak while riding with a war party.

She would prove difficult, but he hadn’t considered leaving her behind. Not only had he not gotten enough of her soft body, Noe was a symbol of his dominance. His brother had lost everything to him. If the gods smiled, when Jaden stood before him, Keldar’s seed would be growing in her belly.

The hollow thud of wooden practice swords echoed between the fortress and its rock wall. Nathan wound his way between fighting men, occasionally sidestepping to avoid being trampled or struck by a wild blow. Even though the wooden swords were seldom lethal—depending on who wielded them—they stilled carried one hell of a wallop. He’d broken a man’s arm with just such a weapon.

He watched one of his soldiers exchange blows with a new recruit. A few of the men were catching on, not bad for farmers who had never owned a sword let alone used one. The morning after his speech, he’d woken to find twenty or so men gone, which was fewer than he’d expected. Now his fortress was full to bursting.

A rich, fragrant smell drifted in on the breeze. His men had never eaten so well. They’d gotten lucky. One of men in the rag-tag group Darion brought in had known how to cook. A gift for which Nathan thanked the gods each time they sat to eat. Nothing demoralized the men faster than bad food.

Darion had left with his small contingent of riders to take messages to Bain’s Crossing and then head back south to the king at Newhaven. The king would get an earful, but Nathan was so relieved to be rid of Darion, he hardly cared.

The three northern fortresses, Eagle Rock, Bain’s Crossing and Hope’s End—all under his command—sent constant messages at his order. Still no reports of Svistra attack or activity. A puzzling detail. So puzzling he’d neglected to send word of it to his king. The monarch would assume the Svistra had given up and gone back home. Nathan was not so naïve. It felt more like the eye of a storm. The Svistra waited for something, but what?

The captains disliked having to send a message once every five days—whether there was any news to report or not—but it was the only way he would know when the Svistra attacked. Besides, seeing the messengers ride back and forth gave a sense of reassurance to the few settlers and villages that called the north their home.

Nathan watched the men for a moment longer. Not for the first time, he wished the damn Svistra attacked head-on like soldiers, instead of sending small parties to strike and flee. He could still remember the first time he’d seen their painted faces as they poured out of the forest to attack a caravan he was guarding. They’d looked more like devils than humans as they killed his outriders and staged a mockery of a battle before melting back into the forest. It was a dishonorable way to fight. Of course, what did a Svistra know of honor?
Give me a real battle, where I can meet my enemy face to face.

Maybe the Svistra knew they’d be outmatched if they fought honorably, or perhaps he was expecting them to reason like men. That was the problem. It was his job to anticipate their next move, and he had no idea how the Svistra mind worked. Nor, he admitted, did he particularly want to.

Selia blinked at a blurry image of fabric above her. She reached up to touch it with a fingertip and make sure it was real. It felt real. Supported by wooden stakes, it covered the length of her body like a low lean-to, only open on all four sides. A pavilion for fairies. She almost smiled. There was just enough room for her to rise to her elbows. She tried but groaned as she did so. Every muscle in her body ached.

A pair of boots appeared at one side of the lean-to. “I thought you might sleep all day.”

She sat up, pushing against the cloth with her head. “All day!”

Jaden picked up the stakes and tossed them into the fire, then folded the fabric before stowing it in his pack.

Selia looked around. The shadows, pooled around the bases of the trees, were wrong for morning.

“Before you say anything, you needed the rest. You won’t do Oren any good if you collapse on the path.”

Selia opened her mouth to complain but couldn’t find the energy. She was exhausted. Instead she accepted a cup from him and sniffed. “Is this the only thing you know how to make? What is it? Bog water?”

“I’ve been told I’m a very good cook. And no. It’s a mixture of herbs and roots to restore your health.”

She wondered who had told him he was a good cook as she downed the contents of the cup like a shot of hard liquor. She couldn’t help the grimace that seized her face. “Whew. It has a bit of an aftertaste, you know?”

Jaden smiled and took the empty cup. He moved like a cat, with the animal grace and lean muscle of a predator.

“What was that thing? Covering me?” she amended.

“It kept the dew off you as you slept. It has no name.”

He stepped into a patch of sunlight. Under the ray’s touch, his skin glowed. Selia caught her breath. He was beautiful. “You never said why you were lurking about the woods by my tavern.”

“Lurking?”

“You more or less told me why you didn’t fight back against the thieves. But you never said why you were there. I mean, they beat you up pretty bad. I saw the whip marks. You must have been…” She stopped. Jaden didn’t need to commit a crime to be beaten to death. It was enough he was who he was.

“Those men you killed were not the source of those particular injuries, and I had committed no crime save breathing.”

Selia tucked the blanket around her knees.

“I had a disagreement of sorts with my father. He ordered the whipping. Later I escaped from a group of Svistra tasked to beat me into submission or kill me. I’m not sure which. They were—” He paused. “Unkind.” He kept his gaze carefully averted.

“I haven’t had much experience with fathers, except Oren’s, but I think that’s taking punishment a bit too far.”

“Depends on the crime.”

“And what was your crime?”

Jaden’s inscrutable gaze met hers. “Disobedience.”

“I see.” There was something magnetic about his eyes. What would it be like to touch his skin? Was it as soft as it looked?
What is wrong with me? He’s a Svistra!
But the warning didn’t stem the desire. Confusion darkened her thoughts.

“No, I don’t think you do see, but would you like to?” He settled across the fire as if he’d realized she felt vulnerable and needed the distance between them.

“I’d like to try.”

“Did you know humans and Svistra once lived in relative peace?”

“No, I…how?”

“Keep in mind, I said relative. In the distant past, there was enough land. Svistra and human rarely came into contact. But as both races prospered, interaction became inevitable. That interaction was not always pleasant for either side. There came a time when a human king decided to hire Svistra instead of hunting us.” Jaden paused. “He wanted to use our abilities for his kingdom. It was a wise move—he was losing men fighting the Svistra and in wars against other kings. He sought a meeting with one of our barons. This baron agreed that he and his men would fight for the king.”

“What did the king offer the Svistra baron?”

“Good question. Most humans think the Svistra arise from the earth. We don’t. We have children, wives and mothers. The Svistra needed a place to raise their families without fear of human attack. In those days, we lived in the lands north of the river S’ian, where you and I now sit. The king promised this baron an exchange. If Svistra of fighting age would battle for him, not only would he consider the Svistra allies, he would give them a portion of his lands and remove his settlers from ours. In addition, he’d give his conquered enemies as food.”

“Food and shelter,” Selia said, but her stomach rolled.

“Something like that. Human settlements had crept into our land. With this bargain, we would not need to fight for what was already ours.”

“But that was only one baron, right?”

“Yes. We have thirteen tribes, each with a leader or baron. These barons are equal in all things, despite how much land they own or how many people they rule. When there is a conflict between tribes, the barons hear the case and determine the best solution.

“Eventually all human kings wanted Svistra in their army. Before long, a king without a Svistra general was ridiculed and impotent, not to mention dead or soon without a kingdom to rule. During this time, the Svistra were honored. Svistra commanders were often given virgins to feast on as a reward for a particularly satisfying victory.”

She shuddered, but if Jaden noticed he didn’t let on. “You fought one another.”

“There is that. Svistra have long memories. There is still unrest between a few tribes.”

“Wait a minute. How many kings were there?”

“At one time there were twenty or thirty sharing the land between the ice fields and the sands to the south.”

Selia picked at a thread in her blanket. She’d never heard any of this before, but then who would tell it? Only the dark priests taught, and only each other. The healers? They were almost as secretive as the priests.

Jaden continued. “Eventually, even human kings tire of war. When peace came, the Svistra were no longer needed. And by this time, except for a select few, Svistra had no knowledge of anything but fighting. It had become a way of life. As humans multiplied, the kings decided that the land given to the Svistra was by rights theirs because we were no longer working for it. Human armies surrounded Svistra villages forcing women and children out of homes they’d held for generations. The Svistra revolted and counterattacked.” He paused, staring into the fire, his gaze distant.

“After years of bloodshed, a northern king came up with a compromise which the other kings soon followed.” He met Selia’s eyes. “He proposed to use the Svistra as jailers. The Svistra would keep their land, the land north of the S’ian, but were not allowed to expand. In exchange, they’d build and maintain a place for criminals. Your fortress, Hope’s End, is one such place.”

“The kings gave criminals sentenced to death to the Svistra as food?” Selia struggled to imagine such a world.

Jaden shrugged. “The kings knew many Svistra had developed a taste for human blood. Lesser criminals found their way to Svistra prisons too. Most political. The kings agreed that any prisoner attempting to escape was fair game as long as the Svistra left other humans alone. For the most part, this treaty was kept. If more attempted to escape prison than usual, no one thought it important enough to mention. After all, they were criminals.” He tossed another stick into the fire with enough force sparks flew into the air. She watched them slowly drift to the ground, where they settled on the bare earth and died.

“But there was a problem,” Jaden continued. “Svistra take on the characteristics of their prey. This is not a concern when our diet is varied but for a hundred years, while the Svistra kept the human prisons, they fed on rapists and murderers, the dregs of human society. The change was slow. If children were a little more violent than their parents and grandchildren a little more bloodthirsty, it was just a sign of the times. Eventually, criminals were not enough. Svistra began attacking travelers, then villages. The kings responded, and the wholesale slaughter of Svistra began anew. We were driven far to the north where the air is cold even when the sun’s high in the sky. It is a rocky, desolate land where nothing grows and all things die quickly, even hope.”