Broken Forest: Book One of the Daath Chronicles (6 page)

BOOK: Broken Forest: Book One of the Daath Chronicles
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Another girl? How many were there?

I lunged, stabbing the sword forward until the tip met soft flesh. The guard recoiled into himself and fell over, clutching at his bleeding stomach. I growled and catapulted the sword into the far wall. “Find me someone who will not die within the first few minutes of my training!”

The standing guard removed the dead body from my sight. Training with humans was an utter waste of time.

Lucino.

You better have good cause for bothering me. You should be collecting my shipment.

My sister’s mental intrusions always happened at the most inconvenient times. Our races’ bloodline communication trait tended to be more of a nuisance. I had already ordered Romulus to discover a way to block her, but so far I had only learned how to break the connection once she entered.

We ran into a situation.

Go on.
I shook my head and walked toward the bubbling salt pool that reminded me of home then threw off the remainder of my clothing and stepped down into the hot water.

During one of our pickups, we were spotted and the two men I sent back have not returned. I think we should call off the rest of the mission and return to Daath.

Are you giving me orders?
I stretched against the hard stone.

No, brother. It is a suggestion.

Finish your task and handle the mess you’ve made.
I broke the connection before she could respond. Hearing my sister babble about minor complications irritated me. I needed quiet, especially after a visit with my pets. Today they had been extremely talkative and touchy; they always wanted to poke or caress me. I spent quite a bit of time trying to learn why. This world varied from ours, in strange ways. I wondered if our people could survive among these humans.

Steam rising from the pool blocked my vision, but I sensed someone approach. “Speak.”

A young servant stumbled forward. “Your grace, there is an urgent message from Lord Thebas.”

The boy placed a scroll onto the table.

“You may go.” I waved the boy away and closed my eyes.
Urgent, everything with that obese fool is urgent.
I regretted revealing my presence to him, but it was a necessary move. We had control of only three lands of the thirteen (not including Daath—I alone held that treasure). I could’ve slipped one of our own in his place and disposed of the man, but humans were very fanatical, and I found his undying devotion pleasant. My following had bred in his large village, spreading and infecting the surrounding areas. By the time we began the invasion I’d have thousands of hungry followers, and The Order would easily be replaced.

Yes, The Council made a grave mistake putting me in charge, but one from which I would greatly benefit. They assumed they would take control. Fools.

Derrick paced back and forth across the camp, mumbling to himself. I rubbed my head, releasing the building pressure. The two corpses lay in front of me. Dead eyes staring.

“Finished?” Derrick said.

Standing, I nodded.

“We need to get rid of the bodies and get out of these cursed woods,” he said. “I still think we need help, even if we hire a merc.”

“There’s no time,” I said, walking over to the corpse with the scar. I lifted one of the lifeless limbs and searched for the tattoo.
Nothing.
I moved on to the other dead man.
Nothing.
 

“What if we’re killed and Jeslyn disappears? I can’t live with that.” Derrick continued ranting and pacing around the camp.

“We can’t stop,” I said in a hushed voice. “We’ll lose her.”

“You don’t know that.”

“It’s up to us.” Mixed emotions swirled through me. Nothing settled. I rubbed my temples, trying to rid myself of the intense pounding.

Derrick dropped to one knee. He clasped his emblem and prayed. I used to wear one, too but that was before Jimri died.

“You’re wasting your time,” I said.

Derrick shut his eyes. “We need a miracle.”

“The Creator doesn’t care about us,” I grumbled.

Derrick ignored me, and I thought on how to dispose of the bodies.

After a very long debate, we came to a decision. We dragged the two dead men from camp and hid them beneath the brush. Then we scurried around the area, gathering twigs and branches to cover the rest of the remains. Afterwards, I wiped our footprints and removed any signs of our passing.

We rode in silence. The sky stayed dry, and we continued following the tracks. Luck smiled on us. The hooves of the horses had a distinct shape, different from most I’ve seen. They were easy to follow.

We arrived at the town marker around noon. An old sign read Bogtown. We were in Lord Belfur’s territory. Out of the twelve territories in Tarrtainya, only three were considered unsafe. This was one of them.

I still had a dull ache in my head. I needed to unwind or I’d get sick, again.

“First one to Bogtown is in charge of dinner,” I said. “Deal?”

Derrick grinned. “Deal.”

He kicked his horse into a running start.

“You’re supposed to wait and count to three!”

Derrick grinned and sped down the road.

“Hee-ya!” I slapped the reins and galloped after him. The wind on my face energized me. My family bred racehorses, fierce and dangerously quick. Brushfire wasn’t from that stock, but she could run just as fast.

“Show them what you can do, girl.”

She galloped around the curve of the road, catching up to them. I urged her to pass Derrick. He glanced my way, and I winked. I slapped the reins again, pushing Brushfire into the town.

“Whoa.” I pulled back on the reins as we entered, Brushfire slowed, and I waited for Derrick before going any further.

Dirt covered the town in a beige blanket. Most of the housing resembled wooden shacks. Haggard citizens dressed in rags passed by us, never making eye contact. The desolate atmosphere reminded me that we needed to watch ourselves.

The local tavern was the only building teeming with activity. “I’ll go inside and see if I can find anything out about the wagons we’re following. Tie up the horses, then meet me inside.” I dismounted and patted Brushfire before leaving her with Derrick.

I’d only been in a tavern once, and I doubted the one in our small village was anything like this. I slid my hand into my pocket, searching for the pouch of marbles I always kept in there. I found it and grabbed one of the smooth stones, rolling it back and forth in my palm.
I am the son of Garn Desdar, a warrior,
I thought,
just like his father before him.
I breathed in, stood straighter, and walked inside.

The second I entered through the swinging doors, I knew I didn’t belong. The stench of sweat and smoke assaulted my nose. Old wooden tables haphazardly filled the room, surrounded by empty steins and loud scoundrels. An old chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling, arrayed with melted candles. With my chin held high, I walked across the sticky floor to the long bar.

I sat on a stool. A busty woman in an unfitting dress stood across from me, filling a mug with golden liquid. “What’ll it be, hun?”

“A cup of ale.” I left a coin on the bar.

She returned with a glass of milk and pushed the coin back to me.

I frowned. “I believe I asked for ale.”

The barmaid smiled and leaned over. “And I believe you to be a bit too young to be drinking any ale.”

“I’m nearly eighteen!”

She pursed her lips. “That may be true, but you won’t be getting any ale from me. You can drink your milk and stay, or leave. It don’t make a difference to me.” She left to help another customer.

I sighed and grabbed the mug.

In the back of the tavern, two men argued, one stout, the other about half his age and weight.

“It’s your fault,” said the stout man. “I tell you, your fault. I know you’re up to no good.

“I didn’t do anything. Why would I?”

The two men eyed each other and the stout man erupted.

“I don’t believe you! My daughter just don’t go off frolicking in the woods, and she don’t go off before her chores are done. What did you do with her?”

“I said I didn’t do noth…” A mouth full of knuckles cut off the reply. A small brawl broke out.

Putting my two fingers together, I gave a sharp whistle, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” I said. “But we may be in the same predicament.”

The father of the missing girl stomped over to me, large nostrils flaring.

Okay, bad idea.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before. State your name, boy.”

Stepping back, I tried to put some distance between us while searching for Derrick. I spotted his cropped dark hair near the front entrance. He nodded at me, hand on his claymore, ready to fight, but by the time he reached me I’d explained all I knew about Jeslyn’s kidnapping to the man towering over me.

The father rubbed his shaggy red beard, grumbled, and stuck out his hand. “The name’s Rudy.”

“Well—met, Rudy. I’m Avikar.” I shook his hand, wincing at the strength of his grip.

“I got a feeling my Charlotte is with your sister. A group of Roamers passed through here a few hours ago. Me and my boys will be coming with you.”

Rudy introduced us to six men. Henry, a wily man with an extremely long mustache and black suspenders. Rudy’s younger brother, Steven, a chubby and cheerful fellow. A young man named Lucas, who was in love with Rudy’s daughter and the recipient of Rudy’s right hook. Twins, named Nathaniel and Davin, who seemed very quiet and secretive, and Reaper.

Reaper’s black oily hair fell to his face and his albino skin appeared translucent. Rudy explained Reaper got his nickname from working the graveyard shift. Reaper smiled at us, revealing more than one missing tooth.

Rudy sent the twins out to gather supplies while the rest of us waited in the tavern.

Derrick sat next to Lucas, probably talking about their lost loves, not a conversation I wanted to be a part of. The bar went back to its loud, rowdy state and I tried to distract myself with the strange black bug crawling down the side of the bar.

The tiny bug, which turned out to be a plain old cockroach, landed on the floor and skidded towards the entrance. A girl in a tight-waisted crimson dress stood there, eyeing the tavern. Men glanced her way, but only briefly. I’d overheard some of the stable hands talk about ladies at taverns who traded favors for coin. I’d never seen one in person. Her black hair hung past her shoulders offsetting her ivory skin. She glided over to the bar, sat and ordered a drink.

BOOK: Broken Forest: Book One of the Daath Chronicles
6.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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