Epic Of Palins 01 - Dagger Star (27 page)

Oris, Ezren, and Alad followed Red. Bethral was waiting, and motioned for him to go ahead of her. Josiah gave her a questioning look.

Bethral shrugged. “She’ll tell us when she’s ready.”

Josiah nodded, and followed the others.

RED watched as Oris looked at Auxter’s body and heaved a great sigh. He leaned down, and pulled the broken halves of Auxter’s staff from under the still form. “Would that we could take him back with us.”

“We can’t,” Red stated flatly, ignoring the man’s pain. “Wrap our dead in cloaks, and we’ll hoist them into the trees. When it’s safe, we’ll retrieve them.”

Oris glared at her, but Red met his eyes and stared him down. He lowered his gaze and looked away. “Aye, Chosen.” He gestured for Alad to help.

Red didn’t give a damn and a half. They’d be hard pressed to get back safe on their own, much less hauling a dead body with them.

Josiah moved to help them, and Red’s gaze drifted over his face. The image flashed before her of his open, dead eyes. She shivered, then forced those feelings down. Later. She’d deal with that later. Right now, they needed shelter and food.

Ezren was leaning against a tree. “Bethral?”

Red turned, and saw Bethral standing over Steel’s body. The blonde knelt, and pressed her hand on the horses’s neck.

“Leave her alone,” Red snapped at him. “She’s praying.”

“Praying?” Ezren shivered, moving his shoulders as if in pain.

“For the soul of her horse. Leave her be.” Red glared at him. “What’s wrong?”

Ezren shook his head, his voice a raspy whisper. “My skin is tingling, as if ants were crawling all over me.”

Josiah stepped closer. “Let’s see if we can get you warm.” He led Ezren toward a fallen log.

Bethral stood. Red motioned her over. “Any chance you can tell me where they came from?”

Bethral shrugged. “I’ll try.” She moved off, circling the area, her head down as she studied the earth.

Oris and Alad were wrapping the bodies of their dead in cloaks, and hauling them into the trees.

Wedged in the branches, they’d be all right for a few days, until they could bring more men here.

Red snarled. She’d bring more men and hunt down the bastards.

Josiah and Ezren sat on the fallen log. The goats were gathered close about their legs. Red frowned, worried about the storyteller. He was clearly shaken, and drained of strength. They needed shelter, warmth, and protection from any others who might be in the area.

Bethral moved to stand beside her. “How many did you kill here?”

“Three.” Red pointed them out. “They’d looted everything, then started on me. I woke when the bastard touched my gloves.”

“Then I think they are all dead,” Bethral said. “They lay in wait for some time, spread out along the path on both sides.”

“For us?” Josiah asked softly. “Or was it chance?”

“I doubt that.” Ezren’s voice cracked. “They took everyone who didn’t die in the initial attack to the altar but the Chosen.”

Red grunted. “My head wouldn’t be enough. No one knows what I look like. They’d need my body, in order to display the birthmark.”

Josiah looked ill. “So they were after us.”

Bethral nodded. “Best to assume so.” She pointed away from the bog. “Looks like Beast went that way.”

Red snorted. “Once I was down, he’d have run. Unlike Steel.”

Bethral jerked her head in a nod.

Alad came over, and held up a handful of arrows. “Blunt tips, Chosen.”

“To stun,” Oris joined in. “A well-planned ambush. They must have—”

“Later,” Red snapped. “Night comes, and we need shelter.”

“We’ve cloaks,” Bethral offered. “I say we cold camp this night, and move at first light. We can

—”

The goats lifted their heads, and looked away from the bog. Their ears perked up. The warriors pulled weapons, gathering around Josiah and Ezren. They stood silent, listening.

Snowdrop bleated, her tail fluttering like crazy. She trotted off, followed by the others.

“Damn goats,” Josiah swore.

“No,” Red said softly. “Don’t say that.” She took a few steps after them. “I’m going to follow.

Stay here.”

She sheathed her sword, but kept the jagged shard in her hand. The goats were running now, prancing through the trees. Red kept them in sight, but stayed as far back as she could.

The goats danced through some brush that she had to skirt around. She carefully stepped to the edge of the woods, and looked out.

There was a fence there, and Beast, looking angry. He’d snarled his reins reaching his head under the bars to the grass beyond. Stupid horse. The goats were cavorting, pleased with their find.

Red stayed back, because Beast wasn’t alone. There was a man—no, a lad—there, trying to free his reins while avoiding Beast’s teeth. Beyond them, Red could see a steading in the distance, with smoke rising from the roof of the house, and a small barn beyond that.

Warmth and shelter, maybe. Red drew a breath and let it out slowly. She just had to be careful.

Only one way to find out.

She stepped forward and hailed the lad.

THANKFULLY , the boy’s mother was willing to shelter them. “There’s the barn, although the smithy’s better for sleeping warm.” Larrisa pointed to a long building apart from the others.

“Light a fire in the forge and the loft heats up fast.”

Red nodded, grateful. “Sorry for scaring the lad so bad.”

“Wasn’t scared,” Therrin protested.

Larrisa raised an eyebrow. “He shouldn’t have been out there, Warrior.” She sighed, and Red could see the weariness in her face. The woman was plump, but there were tired lines in her face.

“Ah, Ma.” The boy blushed. “Was trying to help the horse.”

Larrisa shook her head. “As horse-mad as your father was.”

“Nothing wrong with running,” Josiah said. “I’d have run from her, too, the way she looks.”

Therrin shot him a grateful look.

Red looked down at herself, and had to snort her agreement. Between the muck and the blood, she probably looked like death warm—

Josiah’s dead face floated before her mind’s eye, and she cut that thought off.

Larrisa looked them all over. “Well, you do look a fright. You probably ran into them that killed my man a fortnight ago.”

Red stiffened. “Them? There’s more about?”

Larrisa nodded. “Raiders. But we’ve stout walls. We can talk in the morning. You need to get that one warm, and now. There’s water in the well, and I’ll send out soap and what clothes I can spare.” Bethral wrapped an arm around Ezren, who stumbled forward. Oris and Alad followed behind.

Red tugged on Beast’s reins. “We’ll put this one to pasture.”

Larrisa shook her head. “Put him in the barn. Leaving him out will just draw raiders. There’s feed enough, since all our horses but one have been stolen, and that one is ill. She’s in the back stall.”

Bethral’s head jerked around. “Ill?”

Larrisa nodded, her face filled with pain. “Something else we can talk about. It’s nothing that she’ll share with yours. Get warm and clean. I’ve two little ones to see to. I’ll share what food I can.”

Red nodded, and tugged Beast’s reins. He followed along, quiet as she could wish, and she was grateful for his cooperation.

The barn was big, with clean stalls. It took some doing, but Beast was too tired to put up a fuss.

Red worked as fast as she could, but her body felt heavy and so damn weary. The wet leather of her gloves slid on the pitchfork handle, and she grimaced. No spares to change into, so she was stuck with them for now.

Josiah worked beside her, and she didn’t look at him. Couldn’t look at him. Not now. Later.

Later, she could see him, feel him against her—

“Let me.” Bethral’s hand grabbed the pitchfork. “I’ll finish in here. You two go get warm and clean. There’s a bucket of warm water waiting in the smithy.”

Josiah sighed behind her, and set his pitchfork against the wall. “Room enough in there for all of us?”

“We’re sleeping in here,” Red growled. “To protect the horse.”

Josiah shrugged. “Wherever. I should sleep like the dead this night.”

Red turned white, and staggered.

Both Josiah and Bethral stared at her. Bethral reached out to steady her. “What haven’t you and Ezren told us, Red?”

Red shook her head. “Later. When we’re private.”

Bethral shrugged. “Go. I will take care of this, and then join you.”

Red and Josiah walked out into the night.

LARRISA didn’t have much, but she was generous with what she had. A thick porridge, with bread and butter. She’d sent the food out with Therrin. “Ma says we’ll talk in the morning.”

Red was too weary to insist otherwise. She’d barely been able to wash up, and had rinsed her gloves over and over, to get the muck out. They were damp now, but at least the smell was gone.

She’d thanked the lad for the food, and shut the door. Bethral returned, and they crammed into the loft, warm from the heat of the forge. There’d been no talk as they ate, just the passing of the loaf and dipping out porridge into the bowls.

But once bellies were full, eyes filled with questions. Red looked at Ezren, but he looked away, and shook his head. She snorted at a storyteller unwilling to tell a tale, but she could hardly blame him. “I woke when someone tugged at my gloves….”

She continued, through the fight and the dash through the bog. She closed her eyes, unable to look at them as she told of their dead bodies, and Ezren’s struggles on the altar. Of the power that had filled the air and brought them back.

There was silence when she finished. Josiah pulled up his tunic, to look at his chest. “Not a mark, not a scar.”

“A vague ache,” Bethral said.

Alad looked down at the gash in his tunic. “Don’t feel any different,” he said with a worried look.

Oris coughed. “Why didn’t it bring the others back?”

Ezren spoke. “Maybe because all I cared about was you. I saw…” He looked at Bethral, and then away. “I saw all of you dead and I just wanted…to change it. To have you back.”

Enough talk. Red spoke up, setting aside her bowl. “Josiah and I will sleep in the barn. Larrisa spoke of raiders, so…”

Oris nodded. “I’ll stand first watch. Alad can spell me.”

“Wake me, Alad,” Bethral said. “I’ll stand until dawn.”

Red opened her mouth to protest, but Bethral cut her off. “No. Of all of us, you’ve had the worst of it. Whatever that magic did, we’re not as tired as you. Sleep tonight.”

Josiah stood, and reached out his hand. Red looked up at him, and took it with a sigh, letting him pull her up from the floor.

“And tomorrow?” Bethral asked softly.

“Will have to wait,” Red replied as she eased open the door of the smithy.

The goats were waiting outside. They milled about for a moment, then trotted toward the barn, expecting them to follow.

The barn smelled of horse and hay. It might not be as warm as the smithy, but it was warmer than a cold camp in the woods. Josiah closed the door behind them, and bolted it. Red rigged a few tools to clatter over if disturbed, fussing until she was satisfied with the arrangement.

The goats bedded down in a pile of straw outside Beast’s stall. Red paused, and reached down to scratch under Snowdrop’s chin. The goat pulled back in surprise, but then leaned her head out and closed her eyes with a murmur of pleasure. Silly thing deserved more of a thanks, but it was the best Red could do for now. She reached out to the rest of them, and they clustered around, making little chuckling noises of pleasure as she gave them all a good scratch around the ears.

Josiah came out of one of the back stalls with an armload of horse blankets. He looked at Red in astonishment.

Red ignored him, patted Snowdrop, then headed up the ladder into the hayloft. She didn’t have a sheath for her weapons, and the damn ladder looked as high as a castle wall, but she gritted her teeth and pulled herself up anyway. Josiah handed up the blankets, and then came up with one of the lanterns in hand.

Josiah hung the lantern from one of the posts, painting the loft in golden light and shadows. It took a few moments to arrange the blankets, but eventually they had a warm nest in the hay. Red stood there, trembling, all the emotion of the day threatening to spill out of her, all the pain, all the…

Josiah moved beside her, and slid his hand down her arm, covering her hand. “Let it go, Red.”

Red looked down, and saw that she was clutching the jagged shard of a dagger. Josiah’s warm fingers eased the weapon from her grasp. “You can relax now,” he whispered. “We’re safe enough here.”

Red looked at him, at his warm, living face. He smiled, and eased her sword out of her other hand, placing both weapons close by.

Josiah moved then, to stand very close. He eased his hand up her back to rest between her shoulder blades. Red sagged, putting her head on his shoulder, and he took her weight with ease.

She was content for the moment, breathing in his scent, as his other arm came up and wrapped around her.

Josiah’s warm hands slid up under her tunic, rubbing her back.

Red just stood there for a long moment, listening to his soft breath and the beat of his heart. She closed her eyes, and didn’t even react when he swept her into his arms and placed her on the blankets. “You’re falling asleep on your feet.”

She blinked up at him, staring at his wonderful living face. He smiled at her and shook his head.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes. We’ll be warm enough under the blankets.”

His warm hands eased her tunic off. The looted shoes slid off her feet with no effort, and her trous followed. He avoided her gloves, careful to make no contact with the leather.

The cooler air made her nipples tighten, but Red didn’t reach for the blankets. She just stared as Josiah undressed, gazing at his warm, living flesh. With no mark on his chest, no scar to show.

As if it had never happened.

Josiah didn’t linger. He stretched out beside her and pulled the blankets up over them. Once they were covered, he pulled her close, making a face at the touch of her gloves. She drew back, but he shook his head, refusing to release her.