Hunt of the Bandham (The Bowl of Souls: Book Three) (40 page)

Master Coal smiled at the expression on Justan’s face and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Don’t feel bad. The potential uses of the bond are staggering once you realize them, but it will take years. You can’t expect to figure them all out right away. This is all part of learning what being a bonding wizard is about. One thing I have noticed about you, Edge. You have a tendency to put expectations upon yourself that just aren’t reasonable.”

The master’s assurances didn’t make Justan feel better. He was supposed to be smarter than this. He couldn’t afford to learn at everyone else’s idea of a reasonable pace when it came to his bonded. The world was too dangerous. For their sake and his, he needed to learn faster than what was reasonable.

Master Coal continued on with the lesson and as they walked, Justan’s mind tackled each new bit of information from every angle, determined to put together every last application of his magic. He could not let Fist and Gwyrtha down again.

When the lesson was over, Justan went back to his room and took out the letter from Jhonate. He read over it again before pulling out a piece of paper and trying to write a response. He had tried the night before as well, but it was difficult to know what to say. He ached to tell her how he felt and he was pretty sure that he now understood what his feelings for her were, but there was no way he could come right out and say it. Could he?

What if he told her how he felt and it was too much too soon? What if he had misread the signals in her letter? If he rushed in, she could back off or knowing her, get angry. Maybe he should leave his feelings out of it and just tell her what was going on. But what if he said too little and she thought he didn’t care about her? He started writing the letter, but spent so much time agonizing over every word that he eventually gave up and laid on his bed.

For a while he communicated with Fist and Gwyrtha through the bond. Gwyrtha was searching the outskirts of the farmlands with Qyxal trying to track the beast that had attacked Miss Nala’s Family. She had found an additional pair of tracks that were similar to the ones that Fist had found in the night, but unlike the other tracks, these new ones reeked of the blood of the animals that had been killed.

Justan’s concern grew. So there were two creatures, perhaps even more and according to Gwyrtha these tracks were quite fresh, perhaps just a few hours old. The creatures were still around. He relayed her findings to Fist and promised him that he and Gwyrtha would stay at the farmhouse with him that night to help protect the family.

He left his room to seek out Lenny. In order to guard the farm with Fist that night, he needed some decent weapons. As Justan neared the smithy, the sound of the dwarf’s curses along with hammers striking metal brought a smile to Justan’s face. Lenny was truly in his element here. He left with two swords that Bettie had made as practice work. They were decently made and well balanced, good enough to be put to use in any king’s army, but after seeing Lenny’s work, he could tell that Bettie had a lot of work to do before she would be a master weaponsmith. Justan didn’t dare tell her that though.

He headed to the practice area to get a feel for the swords. He started the sword forms Sir Hilt had taught him. He began working up a sweat and before he knew it, Gwyrtha had returned to the keep. She called out to him through the bond.

Ride.

When they arrived at the farmhouse, Samson had just finished making preparations for the night. All of the remaining animals had been moved to a different farm for the time being. Master Coal had foreseen that their biggest disadvantage in trying to guard the house would be the darkness. Magic orbs were affixed to each fence post around the house. When night came, the yard would be filled with a soft glow. It would be much more difficult for something to sneak up to the house now.

“It is good that you are here,” Samson said, trotting up to them as they approached. “Coal wants us to patrol the other farms in case Nala’s farm is not the only one being targeted. Can you help?”

“No,” Justan said. “I’m sorry, but I promised Fist I would watch over the family with him tonight. I don’t see why Gwyrtha couldn’t come with you, though. She would be more help tracking anyway.”

No. I stay,
she said.

“Gwyrtha, it would be a great help to me if you could go with Samson.”

She snorted in reply, not wanting to be away from him any longer. They had been apart for most of the day after all.

Please?
he asked and promised to go on an extended ride with her the next day. Justan wasn’t sure why he felt it was so important for her to go with Samson, but for some reason, it seemed right that he stay with Fist alone that night. It took a bit more prodding, but she went with the centaur.

Justan knocked at the front door and a disheveled and weary-looking Miss Nala welcomed him in.

“Fist will be just a moment. He is putting the children to bed,” she said. Justan could hear their laughter in the other room along with the heavy clomp of Fist’s feet. The youngest was too excited to sleep and the ogre was trying his best to tire him out. The two older boys were more than eager to shout out suggestions.

“Fist adores the children,” Justan said.

“They love him so dearly, you know. They were so terrified this morning, but since he has been here, they haven’t acted scared at all. He is like the best big brother they could have.”

“He is,” Justan agreed. “Evidently he has that effect on children. He has seen a lot of battle in his time, but in many ways, he is like a child himself. I think that’s why.”

“That’s true. He’s like a big sweet lonely child.” A grin came to her face and Justan was surprised by the affection in her eyes as she spoke about the ogre. “Becca and I have spoken many times about it. From the moment we first saw him, both of us just wanted to reach out and mother him.”

Justan chuckled. “I am grateful to you for it. The two of you have helped him a lot. Especially when it comes to his studies. I have had so much to do since we have been here, that I haven’t been giving him the attention he needs.”

The sounds from the boy’s room had quieted down and Fist walked across the hallway to the girl’s room. Shrieks of laughter erupted as they jumped on him from ambush points on either side of the door.

“It has been a pleasure. It really has,” Miss Nala said. Then the smile faded a bit from her face and was replaced by a look of reluctance. “Sir Edge, has he told you what happened to the first human family he befriended?”

“Uh . . .” Justan wasn’t quite sure how to answer her. “He has told you about them?”

“Tamboor’s family,” she said. “That’s what he calls them. He talks about them all the time. Especially the children. Cedric this, Lina that. He talks about them with such fondness . . . But there is a sadness too. It may not be my business, but I must ask you, what happened?”

Justan hesitated for a moment but felt compelled to tell the truth. “They were killed. An army of beasts conquered the town and Fist fought hard for them, but he was captured.”

“There is more though, isn’t there?” she asked and reached out to grip his arm. Her eyes locked onto his. “Please tell me. I must know. It is important.”

“After he and Tamboor were captured, the wife and children were tortured and . . . they were was forced to watch.” Fist’s memories of that time were burned into his mind. They were so horrible that sometimes Justan woke up at night sobbing. Every time it happened, he reached out to Fist to find that the ogre was sobbing too. Justan felt a lump in his throat and he looked away as he continued. “When I first met Fist, he was broken by those memories. I . . . he still isn’t over it. But we are working it out together. Being with your family has helped him a lot.”

He looked back to see that tears were rolling down her cheeks. Nala pulled Justan into a crushing embrace. “He told me that you saved him and now I understand. Thank you, Sir Edge! Thank you for saving him.”

Justan, stunned by her reaction, patted her awkwardly on the back. “I . . . now you know, but you mustn’t tell him I told you.”

She stepped back and lifted her apron to wipe the tears from her face. “I won’t. I won’t.”

“Good, just take comfort in the fact that you are well protected tonight. There is no way he would let any of you be harmed.”

“No. I would feel sorry for any beast that tried to attack this house with you two here tonight,” she said.

“No you wouldn’t,” Justan said, a slight smile curving his lips.

“No I wouldn’t,” she agreed, but her eyes were deadly serious.

“The children will sleep now.” Fist entered the room and from the sheepish look on his face, Justan knew that his cheeks had been soundly covered in little girl kisses. “It is dark. We should be outside.”

“Of course,” Justan said. “And Miss Nala, remember what I said.”

“We will be perfectly safe tonight. I know. Thank you both. Oh!” She ran back to the kitchen and returned with a basket. It smelled of cookies and fresh bread. “Take this with you. You will need something to eat if you plan on staying out there all night.”

She planted a kiss of her own on Fist’s cheek and Justan walked with him outside into the looming night.

Did you hear that sound on the roof?
Justan asked. He was watching the backside of the house while Fist watched the front.

I threw a cookie
, Fist explained.
For Squirrel.

Oh.
In Justan’s opinion, it was a waste of one of Miss Nala’s delicious cookies. Surely Squirrel was perfectly happy with his little nuts and seeds. But he didn’t say anything to Fist about it. Squirrel was keeping watch on the sides of the house from the rooftop. If Justan said anything derogatory, there was a chance that Squirrel would overhear it and find the worst opportunity to pelt him with rocks or something worse. The little beast had wonderful aim.

Justan thrust his hands into his armpits to ward off the chill and yawned as he watched the treeline for movement. The yard around the house was bathed in a soft glow from the lamps Samson had placed along the fence and with the temperature still too cold for insects, the night was awfully quiet. They had been watching for several hours and Justan was finding it difficult to stay awake.

I’m tired,
he told Fist.

Ask Gwyrtha for strength,
the ogre suggested.

Of course. Thanks.
Justan could have slapped himself for once again forgetting one of the many uses of the bond. Gwyrtha and Samson were several miles away with Qyxal examining some older traces of the creatures. Evidently at least one of them had been sneaking around the farmlands for days.

Gwyrtha was happy to give him some energy. He reached through the bond to tap into her vast reserves and it didn’t take much. His eyes widened immediately and he felt like he could stay awake for another day without sleeping. What a handy thing it was, being bonded to a rogue horse.

Justan,
Fist said. The ogre’s thoughts were pensive.
Why did you tell her?

Hmm? Who?

Miss Nala. You told her about Tamboor’s family, I think.

Oh, you overheard that?
Justan winced.

No, but I understand now. Miss Nala kissed my cheek. And she does not u-!

What?

The side!
Fist shouted. The ogre was already running.
The corner of the house! Squirrel saw!

Justan jumped to his feet.

Fist thoughts were punctuated by a sharp spike of panic.
There it is!

Justan ran around to the side of the house just in time to see Fist thrust his massive arm inside the open window to the girl’s bedroom. How had it been opened? The windows had been secured and Justan knew that the children wouldn’t have opened it after what had happened the night before.

Fist grunted and Justan knew that the ogre had grasped what he was looking for. He pulled and whatever he had grabbed onto resisted, but Fist’s strong fingers weren’t letting go. Justan could hear something overturn in the house and the children started screaming.