Set in Stone (15 page)

The Water Moccasin laughed the loudest. Finally he wiped his eyes and clapped Connor on the shoulder. "I needed that. I like you, boy. It is refreshing to meet someone so unconcerned with reality."

"Stop teasing our guide, Kilian," Ilse said through her own smile. "He's had a rough night."

Kilian shrugged. "Well, I can't tease you. None of you Rumblers will go near the water."

"You'll sink as fast as the rest of us when the time comes," Ilse said.

"But not tonight."

Connor studied the man. Such an ability must be amazing, but why laugh at his suggestion? Either they were lying to protect their abilities, or Bruce's stories were wrong. The thought was disturbing. If he couldn't trust what he'd learned from Bruce, he knew even less than he'd thought.

They thought him a fool, a simpleton. What did they know? They had no idea what he'd suffered.

Before he could formulate an angry reply, Shona spoke. "You do this lad a disservice. You should be laughing at yourselves."

"Why so?" Ilse asked.

"You call him fool and yet you follow him into the mountains, trusting your lives to his word. Who then is the fool?"

"Don't be too eager for us to fail," Ilse said. "You forget that should we find ourselves trapped, your usefulness might well run out."

Shona tossed her long braid over one shoulder. "You can't kill me. I am the only shield left to you against my father's wrath."

Kilian stalked forward, his face a mask of rage. "Pray, girl, that your father remains far from us, or I will boil his heart in his own blood for his crimes."

Shona met his angry glare with calm assurance. "We shall see who does what, lord water spider."

Kilian spat a curse in Grandurian and stalked back to the water. Without slowing, he strode out onto the surface, his steps changing to long, graceful slides as if he moved on a sheet of ice. In a moment the gloom swallowed him.

"Move out," Ilse said, and a now-somber group marched upriver again.

As they walked, Connor wondered, was he a fool for leading them out of Obrion, or for trusting them to let him go afterward?

Chapter 13

Near dawn, Verena trailed Captain Ilse into a small clearing dotted with young trees, and sank gratefully onto a fallen log when the captain signaled the group to halt.

They started a small fire and set up Lady Shona's tent. As the group ate, Verena approached Connor and offered to share her rations of dried meat and biscuits.

As he chomped angrily on the food, she studied him. This boy intrigued her. He appeared earnest, if surprisingly ignorant of Petralists. In Granadure, everyone knew about Petralists, at least about the powers manifest in the lowest threshold, but it seemed here that knowledge had all but disappeared. Or perhaps it had been snuffed out?

After all, they cursed the Tallan. What else might be true of the barbarians?

Lady Shona fit the mental image of selfish, evil Obrioners Verena had carried with her across the border. Surely High Lord Dougal would be an uncultured brute, considering the crimes he'd committed.

But Connor challenged the stereotype, and the honest goodness she sensed in him drew her to speak.

"Connor, please try to understand. We don't want to hurt anyone."

Connor nearly choked, and spat out the food he'd been trying to swallow. "How can you say that?"

"It's true," she insisted, startled to feel herself growing defensive.

Connor barked a laugh. "You kidnap Lady Shona, and then me. You stole all that granite from the barge. Do you have any idea how long it's going to take us to replace it?"

She hadn't really considered the impact to the locals, but then the rest of his meaning registered. "So, the Alasdair quarry you mentioned is the source of the granite?"

"Forget about the quarry. You've done enough damage. If you didn't want to hurt anyone, why'd you come here?"

"Because High Lord Dougal hurt us first," she snarled. Just thinking about it set her fingers itching to dip into her satchel for one of her stones.

She had pushed the far limits of the possible through her Builder experiments, and several possible tortures immediately came to mind. She'd love nothing better than to try them all on the high lord.

"What did he do?"

Verena wasn't sure where to start, nor how much he would believe, nor how much she could trust him. It surprised her how much she wanted to think well of Connor, but how could an Obrioner, one of the high lord's own subjects, prove trustworthy?

Before she could formulate a response, Captain Ilse called her to the fire. She couldn't just drop the conversation, so she whispered, "We just want to make things right. I'll tell you more later."

As most of them settled to the ground to get some sleep, the captain called out, "Purge powers. We can't afford to get sloppy."

Erich and Anika groaned where they sat close together near the fire. Each of them closed their eyes as if concentrating, and cupped their hands over their hearts. After a few seconds, they opened their eyes, brushed their hands on their leather trousers, and settled back down to sleep.

Verena found the ritual fascinating. As Captain Ilse and the other Petralists completed their own purging, Verena decided when they returned to Granadure, she'd ask one of them for a sample of the lamacal, the powder they brushed away that was the result of their purging. What might it taste like?

The Longseer, with her lovely, glittering eyes spoke in Grandurian, "Shall I keep watch?"

After a moment's consideration, Ilse replied, "No. Get some sleep. We may need you tomorrow."

Connor approached the fire. "What are they doing?"

Verena smiled warmly to help put him at ease. She wanted to continue their conversation, explore what it meant to be a commoner in this barbaric country. "Purging."

"Looked to me like you were praying to the Tallan," Shona said.

Captain Ilse said, "The Tallan is not one we pray to, only one we strive to emulate."

"You admit following the devil?" Connor looked horrified.

"He’s no devil," Verena snapped, amazed to find the rumors true. These people really had altered history almost beyond recognition.

"Right, and you don't want to hurt anyone," he snapped before moving away from the fire to lay down in the soft loam.

Verena watched him. Part of her still despised this nation and all who lived here, but now pity mixed with her anger.

If the high lord hurt Nicklaus, she'd use every trick, every bit of power she could muster to destroy him and everything he held dear. Hopefully Shona would prove an effective bargaining chip and all could be resolved peacefully.

If not, if the high lord stooped to hurting children, there would be war. She shuddered to think how the high lord's subjects would suffer for his crimes. She genuinely liked Connor, but as she stared into the glowing heart of the dying fire, she faced the hard truth.

If she had to, she would destroy him.

Chapter 14

Connor rolled to his side and studied Verena's profile. Part of him wanted to return to the fire and talk with her. Even though she was an enemy, he felt a deep curiosity about her and Granadure. Of all the company, he felt most comfortable around Verena, despite the lies.

Would he ever get another chance to learn about them?

Would they tell him the truth?

He was surprised to realize he didn't hate her. He should, though. They'd snuck across the border, invaded his country, and kidnapped Lady Shona. They worshipped the Tallan.

In the end, it didn't matter what he felt for Verena or her company. They were apparently too gifted in the arts of deceit for him to see through their lies. He was an inexperienced Saor-Linn who should be celebrating the Saorsa this very day. He didn't know enough to understand this situation.

He owed Shona his allegiance, but how could he help? He had to do . . . something.

But what?

As he lay pondering the question, Shona announced loudly, "I need to wash my face."

Ilse called from where she lay near the fire, "Someone bring Shona a canteen."

"I will not wash in your spit water. I will go to the river."

Ilse groaned and gestured to Anika, who had already sat up. "Escort her to the river."

Anika moved toward Shona, and once again Connor was impressed. She towered more than a head taller than Shona, and radiated raw power in her battle leathers. One of the soldiers stationed nearby proffered a leather pouch. "Need strength?"

Shona snatched the pouch and shoved her hand inside. She shouted with triumph and threw back her head, a look of ecstasy on her face.

Anika yanked the pouch away, and when Shona glared, she leaned closer and said in a soft, mocking voice, "Try make work. Maybe strong." She grinned and flexed her broad shoulders. "We fight."

Shona hesitated, clearly wrestling with a decision. Connor watched the exchange with interest.

What were they talking about?

After a moment Shona sighed, pushed past the bigger woman, and stomped down through the trees toward the river. Anika tucked the bag into her belt and strode out of camp after Shona. The other soldiers settled back again.

Connor looked around. No one was watching him.

He rolled silently to his feet and in three quick strides reached the deep shadows of a nearby bush. His heart began to pound as he slipped through the sparse underbrush toward the river. This might be his only chance to try to help Shona. He considered several ideas for dealing with Anika, but discarded them all. The problem was, she terrified him. Still, he had to try something.

Using every bit of woodcraft he'd mastered while stalking wily mountain goats through the Maclachlan Mountains, Connor ghosted toward the river. It was nearly dawn, and a hint of gray colored the eastern sky.

His hands started to sweat and he wiped them on his hunting leathers. His heart beat so fast he wanted to pant.

Just like stalking a nuall
, he told himself. Of course, he'd only tried to stalk one of the giant, ferocious mountain cats once. It hadn't gone well.

Connor eased each foot forward, feeling for rocks or sticks while straining his ears for signs of his quarry above the constant gurgle of the river. Deep shadow cloaked everything, and the area smelled of pine trees and fresh water. He rounded a large boulder, and the river came into view, a gray ribbon that flowed through the impenetrable night.

Water splashed nearby and Shona said, "Didn't you bring a light?"

Anika chuckled. "Have light, yes. Have towel. Have hair brushing."

"You mock me?" Shona hissed.

Anika chuckled again. "You mock you. Very funny."

Connor followed their voices. As he drew within ten paces and crouched down beside a large rock, their forms became distinguishable. Shona knelt by the water, splashing water on her face. Anika stood nearby, her face and long blond braid shining in the darkness as she watched.