Exile (32 page)

He stopped at the top of a rise and stared out at the same landscape continuing on to the horizon in splashes of pastel color, barely discernible in the fading light. Once, he had called the desert beautiful. It was hard not to wonder what he had seen in it then. Whatever it was, circumstances had burned that beauty away. The landscape was harsh and cruel. There was no promise of escape on the horizon, no hope of rescue.

No. He wasn’t willing to accept that he would die here. Hope wasn’t gone until the last breath left his body. He touched the ring in his pocket, hoping the hunger for revenge would help him drive him. Instead, he felt pain and a deep aching hollowness within. Grinding his teeth against that hurt, he took one step at a time, working his way down the hill. He continued the same way for hours, sometimes counting the steps, sometimes not. At the top of each rise he scanned the horizon for any sign of a village, trekking always north.

The terrain changed once more, stretching out flat before him for as far as he could see. At some point during the night, he stopped for a break. Exhaustion caused him to doze off and he woke to find the dogs closing in. A hoarse yell sent them backing away while he stumbled to his feet. Knowing the dogs would attack if he slept, he started walking again. They harried him onward, patient, but hungry. Even with the Kudaness wrap, the heat of morning was intense and suffocating, promising a sweltering day. Hunger consumed him and thirst made him falter. The thirst would kill him faster, though not as fast as the dogs would.

When he stumbled, there was no hesitation. One of the dogs leapt, slamming into his back with more power than he would have expected from the small animal. Unable to stop the momentum, he fell, catching himself on his hands in a thorny bush. Sharp little spikes dug into his palms. They were the least of his worries. Twisting, he punched the nearest dog in the jaw, boosting the strength of the impact with ascard. Bone cracked and he wasn’t sure if it was in the dogs jaw or in his own hand. The animal’s piercing yelp suggested the former.

Teeth sank into his forearm when he reached for the sword and this time he was the one to cry out, a hoarse animal sound. The other three dogs were poised to attack. Yiloch seized the sword, feeling wounded muscles protesting the effort as the animal maintained its hold. He grabbed the dog’s jaw, wrenching it up with ascard-enhanced strength that made the lower teeth rip through his flesh as he forced it away. With his arm free, he swept the blade around, catching another dog in the shoulder as it dug its teeth into his thigh. The animal screamed and blood flew.

With another ascard boost, he got to his feet and went after the dogs. Even when they realized the odds had turned and started to retreat, he held onto the power until he had killed them all in a flurry of blood and piercing yelps. When it was over, he sagged forward, landing heavily on one knee. Heat, thirst, and exhaustion weighed him down. Blood ran from the wounds in his arm and leg, wetting his clothing. He stared at it, realizing with distant concern that he should do something to try to stop the bleeding.

Thoughts came sluggishly. The carnage would draw more preditors. He had to move. He knelt there for a time, mustering the will to continue, then he stood and began to walk. He managed only a few steps before the world lurched around him and he collapsed, panting in the sand.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

They came within sight of last Lyran village they would pass before they crossed into Kudan about midday. Indigo reached out with her ability and the complete absence of living human ascard signature made her stomach curdle long before they came upon the first body. There was still a trace of inner aspect in the dead, she realized upon investigation, but it was changed. There was a coldness to it that repelled her. Perhaps it was meant to do so as a kind of warning, to say “Stay away, there is death here.” She wanted to heed that warning and move on. Cadmar insisted they see what the army left behind.

Nothing was the answer.

The next body they found was well outside the village, a young woman lying face down in the dirt. It looked as though she had been fleeing for her life when someone ran her through from behind. They continued into the village at a reluctant pace, the horses even less eager than their riders to get closer to death. There were many more men, women, and children cut down in the act of running away. They stopped at the outer edge of the village proper. More dead lay in the roads, blood creating red mud in the dusty streets. Chairs, cook pots, and myriad other items were strewn outside the doors of the houses, attesting to a thorough scavenging.

Cold anger infused her and she drew on more ascard, stopping only when Ian laid a hand on her arm. Glancing at him, she saw the same rage reflected in his eyes and realized there was nothing they could do about it now. She released the power.

“Can you tell if there is anyone left alive?” Cadmar asked.

She stretched her ability through the village, finding numerous rats, a small population of cats, the odd dog or two, and many insects, but no living people. The cold presence of the many dead sent an icy chill through her. Tears crept silent down her cheeks by the time she drew back. It was a moment before she could speak.

“There’s no one. Not one human life.” She brushed the tears away. “Why kill everyone?”

With a small jerk of his head, Cadmar indicated that they should leave the village. He turned his mount to skirt around the side of the village proper. Indigo and Ian fell in beside him.

“It is not an uncommon strategy,” Cadmar said several minutes later when Indigo thought the question forgotten. “If you leave enemies alive behind you, they can rally and come after you. Then you might find yourself surrounded by the people you seek to conquer.”

She scowled. She didn’t really care what the justification was. It was wrong to slaughter any people in such a way.

“Who are they?”

Cadmar shook his head and Ian, when she looked to him, turned away, his face drawn and full of misery.

“Do you think they did this to the Murak?” She asked after a moment.

“I doubt Suac Chozai would have let them,” Ian replied. “He knew they were coming.”

“But did he know when?”

Ian gave her a sharp look, unwilling to humor that line of thought. Facing forward, he urged his horse up to a trot. Cadmar fell in with him. Indigo sighed and held her gelding back a few strides behind them.

Cadmar turned off the road a short time later, riding up to the top of a rise. He waited for Indigo and Ian to move their horses up beside him. Before he gestured to the view beyond, she was already gaping at the landscape in awe. The land dropped off abruptly beyond the rise and, to the southeast, a vast rift opened in the landscape, stretching out so far and wide that it looked as though there was a great crack in the world. Directly south, the land stretched out for miles of unwelcoming desert spotted with spindly bushes.

“The Kudan border is there.”

She looked up to see Cadmar gesturing to some point in the landscape behind them that indicated the border of Kudan. She nodded, feeling an increased apprehension at knowing she was now in Kudaness territory. Could a Caithin in Kudan ever be welcome? Perhaps their dislike for the Caithin people was exaggerated. Regardless, she felt fortunate to be travelling with the company she had.

Trying to ease her nerves, she searched ahead with ascard, reaching out for the link that connected her to Yiloch. She found nothing. Wherever he was, he was too far away from them for her to feel him.

Or dead
.

She pushed the thought away and turned to searching for any human life in the desert beyond. By late afternoon, after several more sweltering hours in the saddle, that search bore fruit. She encountered a few ascard signatures at first, then many more, none of them with a connection of any notable strength. Before long, the village came into view on the horizon and her nerves began to dance.

“Will they be hostile?”

Cadmar grinned at her, not taking the situation seriously enough in her estimation. “They are hostile toward everyone.”

She responded with a shaky exhale and only loosened her tense grip on the reins when the gelding started to dance in irritation, tossing his head. Cadmar chuckled, though she couldn’t quite see the humor.

“He’s there,” Ian remarked.

“I thought he would be,” Cadmar responded. “This village is on the border. That makes it very important. Suac Chozai spends most of his time here.”

“They’ve spotted us.” Her hands tightened on the reins, causing the gelding to toss his head again. “Sorry,” she apologized to the animal and eased her grip.

Six dark-skinned warriors jogged out toward them from the village, moving more easily in the soft terrain than the horses. Cadmar stopped his mount and gestured for Indigo and Ian to do the same. The approaching figures were tall and lean, as Kudaness tended to be, and each carried either an ornate spear or a curved sword. When they were close enough, she could see the tattoos on their faces, though she knew little about the significance of the symbols. All she knew was that the black designs on their dark skin managed to make them even more intimidating.

When they got within a few yards, they slowed to a walk and chatted amongst themselves, pointing at the three riders more than once. They stopped a few feet from the horses, weapons held ready. One man stopped ahead of the others and regarded each of the riders in turn. He scowled at Indigo then settled his gaze on Cadmar and addressed him in Kudaness. The two spoke for several minutes and, wary of using ascard too much here, she watched their faces to try to catch the mood of the exchange. It became heated for several minutes, both men emphasizing their words with sharp gestures, and Ian shifted in his saddle, then the Kudaness warrior turned and gestured for them to follow. The other five warriors moved out around them.

“What was all that?” She asked softly, moving her mount close to Cadmar’s.

“They don’t want us here. They only just returned to clean up the damage from the passage of the Gray Army and they are very angry,” Cadmar replied, watching the backs of the lead warriors as he spoke.

“Gray Army?” She recalled the uniform olive-gray skin tone of the foreign warriors and decided it was a good description. “At least they made out better than that Lyran village. They could have sent someone to warn them if they knew the army was coming.” Anger toward the Murak swelled in her and she clung to it because it helped suppress the fear.

Cadmar gave her an unreadable glance and remained silent.

They followed the lead warrior into the village, moving among the varied huts and other structures. The villagers were busy cleaning up the mess the army had left behind. Belongings were being gathered and piled outside of the small dwellings and more than one partially or fully collapsed hut was under repair. They paused in their work to offer suspicious and hateful glares to the trio. She did her best to ignore them, keeping her eyes forward and holding on to her anger to stave off fear. The Kudaness rarely travelled in Caithin, so seeing this many of the dark-skinned people in one place and knowing how little regard they had for her people made her feel much like a mouse in a roomful of cats.

They don’t use ascard
, she reminded herself.
You could overpower any of them with your ability
.

The thought helped some, though she was very aware of the spears they carried. An unexpected throw could end her life as fast as it could anyone else’s.

The warrior led them to a hut that was taller and longer than the others. Here they dismounted and left the horses with two of the warriors. She relinquished the reins to her mount reluctantly. The Kudaness rarely used riding animals and she had some doubts that they knew how to properly care for them, though she wasn’t about to be left outside. The remaining four warriors escorted them inside. The hut was sparingly furnished. There were a few low tables and a small cabinet of remarkably ornate design. For sitting and sleeping there were pillows and blankets far more luxurious in material and design than she expected of a tribal people living in the desert. She’d always assumed the elaborate Kudan blankets in the markets were to impress people out of their coin. That they used such extraordinary work for daily use came as a surprise.

The lead warrior announced Cadmar to the man standing in the center of the hut, and then the four warriors stepped to the side. From their expressions, she suspected they would kill any one of the three visitors without hesitation if they made any threatening gestures.

This new man’s muscles rippled under tattoos that wove intricately over his arms, chest and legs as he stepped up to Cadmar and gripped his arm in a congenial greeting that perplexed her, given their reception to this point. The man appeared to know Cadmar. They exchanged a few words, the dark man looking over Indigo and Ian when Cadmar gave their names. His long hair, braided into myriad small braids weighted with beads, swayed with every turn of his head, giving exaggerated fluidity to his movement.

Eventually, the two men approached Indigo and Ian and she noticed the odd, copper color of his eyes.

“Indigo. Ian. This is Suac Chozai Galal of Murak un Ani,” Cadmar introduced.

Before either of them could offer greeting, the suac spoke, exhibiting considerable mastery of the Lyran trade dialect.

“You and the creator I expected,” he said, indicating Cadmar with a glance and narrowing his eyes at Ian. “I did not expect
this one
.”
This one
was spit out like a rancid berry, though his tone when referring to Ian hadn’t been any more favorable. “It is as if you are not here even now, though you stand before me.” He eyed her warily and his eerie copper eyes drilled into her. “Your presence hides from me.”

Her anger faded some when she recognized that he was sensing the ascard signature within each of them even though she sensed no active ascard connection in him. How then, could he sense ascard at all? Maybe she misunderstood him, but it was the only logical explanation for his comment.