The Cult of Sutek (20 page)

“What have I done for you?” she asked, her voice taking on a thoughtful tone.

“What do you mean?”

“You said that you wanted to repay me? I don’t understand. I’ve done nothing to warrant repayment.”

“You got me out of prison.”

“You helped.”

“Barely. You’ve also taught me to fight. Granted, I have a long way to go, but I never thought I would be able to dispense of a spearman as I did earlier.”

“I was wondering if you were going to do anything or seize up like the boy.”

“Sorry. It won’t happen again. I was uh . . . taken aback by what I came upon.” He felt Andrasta’s stare and reddened. “Anyway, I don’t feel as useless with a sword. And you do most of the hunting and cooking.” He cleared his throat. “I’m just trying to let you know I appreciate everything.”

Andrasta grunted. Nothing more.

What is that one supposed to mean?

He thought for a moment, trying to categorize the sound among the others he had filed away in his head. The sound had been low, even contemplative, like she was considering his admission.

That has to be a good thing. Right?

They entered the next clearing. The bodies lay where Rondel had left them. Jahi stepped out from behind a large sycamore. He held a sword in his hand.

Why bother with a sword when you can call on fire?

Jahi walked toward them, relief washing over his face.

“I thought you might have been killed.”

“So you cowered behind a tree?” snapped Andrasta.

“I . . . Are you hurt badly?”

“Bad enough, no thanks to you. You said in Girga, we could count on you. I—”

“She’ll be all right with a little rest,” cut in Rondel, seeing the wounded look on the boy’s face. “There are some horses in the woods. Why don’t you lead them back to our camp? Make sure to bring the supplies with you. We can use a good bit of what’s there and sell the mounts at the next town we visit.”

Jahi hesitated.

“There isn’t anyone else to worry about,” Rondel assured him.

“It isn’t that. It’s just . . .” He shifted his gaze to Andrasta. “I’m sorry.” He turned and disappeared quickly through the woods.

Andrasta muttered something in her native language Rondel could not understand. He only knew it to be a curse by the tone and frequency he had heard the words uttered.

Usually directed at me.

He walked Andrasta over to a fallen willow and set her down. “Ease up on the boy.”

“Ease up? He’s supposed to be a sorcerer. Yet, he didn’t do anything.”

“Well, it’s not because he doesn’t know how. You saw the fireballs in his hands when you two argued after we escaped the dungeons. And he did relight all the lights in his father’s hall. Those aren’t simple spells.”

“Then what happened?”

“I don’t know. Lack of focus maybe. A lot of men twice his age would have frozen up in that situation. He probably didn’t even fully understand what was going on until it was over.”

“He understood enough to realize I didn’t have my clothes on.”

Rondel went to the edge of the river and began collecting Andrasta’s clothing and armor. He brought them back and set them near her feet. “How would you know that? You had your back to us. You might have heard us, but even you don’t have eyes behind your head.”

“No. But I saw how he acted just now. The boy was red-faced and refused to meet my eye.”

“Maybe you’re right, but he is fourteen. I’m sorry, but only a blind man wouldn’t have noticed you.”

“What does that mean? That it’s all right to lust after me like I’m some whore? You’re no better than those pieces of garbage,” she barked, gesturing at the bodies of the men she had killed. “I go to bathe in a river, and they think because they see a woman alone, that they can have their fun.”

Rondel thought to explain what he said, but realized that doing so would likely dig him a greater hole. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. In a roundabout way, I was trying to give you a compliment. Nothing more.” He quickly changed subjects. “Do you need help dressing?”

“I’m not a child. Just give me privacy.”

He sighed. Rondel had thought he had made some sort of headway in their partnership, maybe even an understanding.

Now, I’m not so sure.

He gave Andrasta his back, listening to the woman swear as she fumbled with her clothing.

* * *

After their argument Rondel and Andrasta spoke little the rest of the day. He did manage to convince her that at least one day without travel was needed to reduce the likelihood of her leg re-opening. She spent that time alone on the edge of camp tending to her weapons and squeezing rocks for her grip.

While Andrasta sulked, Jahi returned with the mounts and supplies, Rondel took the boy to dispose of the bodies. Since they would be in camp for an extra day, he didn’t want other travelers to stumble upon them, raising more questions and possibly the ire of acquaintances.

And then there is the threat of animals. I can’t imagine having to face another wulfron.

He and Jahi worked silently. Rondel thought it best to give the boy time to his thoughts since it was obvious the events from the morning weighed on him heavily.

It wasn’t until they were done with the bodies and searching a nearby thicket for a particular herb to treat Andrasta’s wounds that Rondel attempted conversation. “You know I met a lot of interesting people in my younger days.”

“Hmm.” Jahi’s head was down while pushing aside tall grass in search of the leafy idichit.

“Did you know that many people consider idichit to be poisonous? I used to think the same until I did some traveling with a healer. She was a genius with non-sorcerous techniques. She explained that people thought idichit was poisonous because of a lack of knowledge in how to prepare the herb. It’s sad when you consider how abundant the herb is.”

“Interesting,” Jahi mumbled.

“I think so. I learned a lot of things like that over the years. Here’s another. I was traveling to Kurk with a small squad of mercenaries once and—”

“You? Mercenaries?”

“Yes. Why?”

“It’s just that . . . well, I could see you doing that now, but back then, all the stories I’ve heard of you said . . . I don’t know.”

“That I was a fop?”

“That’s not what I meant. It just seems strange that you’d be hanging around with mercenaries.”

“It’s all right. The thing is, mercenaries, thieves, and murderers are no different than merchants, nobles, and the upper class in that they all like to be entertained. A good bard learns to diversify. You never know who your audience will be. Saying the wrong joke or singing the wrong song could mean your end.” He paused, considering the first year of his life as a minstrel when he learned those lessons the hard way. “In this case, I needed an escort to Kurk. I met this squad at an inn. I overheard they were heading there due to rumors of war, hoping they could get on with someone’s army. I worked my way into their conversation with a few stories that would make a whore blush. After that, they didn’t mind me tagging along.”

“Oh.” Jahi paused. “You were going to say something else though before I interrupted you.”

“Yes. Travel to Kurk took weeks and I developed relationships with many of the soldiers. One in particular was the squad’s old battle sorcerer. He had seen more than his fair share of war and sported the scars that backed up each of his claims. I asked him how he managed to live as long as he had since most in his line of work don’t exactly die of old age. He said, ‘simple—I learn from my mistakes.’”

There was a long pause of silence.

Jahi snorted. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“I was expecting some wise, deep revelation the way you built up the story, especially coming from someone who is a master storyteller. Anyone on the street corner could have doled out that advice.”

Rondel chuckled. “True. It might not be as entertaining as my other stories, but that’s because I didn’t intend it to be. My reaction wasn’t much different than yours either, when he told me. I might have even laughed at him. But he was right. And as simple as it was, it was probably the best piece of advice I was ever given.”

He paused, thinking of all the mistakes he had made in his life before his imprisonment.
Gods, I was so arrogant. And lucky. I never saw those mistakes until they all caught up to me at once with Duke Engren.

He blew out a long breath. “Unfortunately, I didn’t see it that way for a long time.”

Jahi broke off a twig from the bush he stood beside. “I can’t say I’m sorry enough for this morning.”

“I’m not asking you to. Andrasta won’t either.”

“No? She seems really upset with me.”

“She is. But words mean little to her. It’s your actions that she remembers.”

“Or inaction in my case.”

Rondel frowned. This wasn’t going as he intended. “Look, I didn’t bring this up to make you feel worse. I did it to give you something to think about. That old sorcerer told me another story about his first time in combat. He was a few years older than you, never tasted real battle before, and said he wet himself in fright.”

“At least I didn’t do that. So let me guess, it all worked out in the end.”

“No. His entire unit was wiped out. He was captured by the enemy and tortured. During his torture, something snapped. He finally came into his own, learning how to focus under pressure, and was able to escape.”

Jahi swallowed hard.

“He was a good man, but the ghosts from that day never stopped haunting him. He used to talk to those that died when he thought no one was looking.” Rondel paused, clearing his throat. “My point is that this morning could have been worse. A lot worse. I’m not telling you this to bring you down. It’s just that we still have a long journey ahead of us and I don’t want you to have to experience something so drastic for things to fall into place. I know you have some skill with sorcery,” he thought, recalling Jahi’s lighting of the torches, candles and hearth in Horus’s hall, “but that doesn’t mean anything until you can put it to use under pressure.”

Chapter 11

Two brown rats hissed at each other on the branch of a mostly bare fig tree just up the trail from where Andrasta rode. She hated the annoying creatures. If she had the energy she might have thrown a dagger to kill one out of spite. However, she had just found a comfortable position in the saddle for her injured leg and she wouldn’t move for anything except a threat on her life.

Nearing the two animals, one of the rats snatched a fig from the other and took off like a crossbow bolt, zipping through the branches. The other caught up quickly and pounced on its back. They rolled along the branch, hissing and screeching louder than before. She could only imagine what curses rats yelled at each other in such heated moments.

Her eyes stayed on the fight until her horse passed the fig tree, its leaves putting off an odor reminiscent of cat urine.

The two rodents fell, still pawing at each other during the descent. They crashed into a bush, separating and running off in opposite directions. She noticed the fig that had been the cause of the fight lay a few feet away from where they had landed.

She grunted in amusement. Neither would enjoy its sweet taste.

“What’s so funny?”

Andrasta’s smile vanished. Rondel’s mount edged up next to her.

“Nothing.”

“Hmm. How’s the leg?”

“Good. I can feel it healing faster with the herbs you packed around it.”

“If the pain gets bad, we can stop or I can try to find you some—”

“I said it’s good.”

He clicked his tongue, but said nothing, allowing his horse to slowly drift back.

Andrasta clenched her jaw and released it at the twinge of guilt for being so short. She knew she should be thanking Rondel for his help, but showing gratitude had never been a strength.

I could at least treat the man with more respect. Why is that so hard?

Too many people in her life had sought to take advantage of her, doing things for her only because they expected something more than what she gave in return.

Usually sex.

She hated that Rondel had seen her unclothed. It was bad enough in the dungeons in her undergarments. But none of that compared to being completely naked. If she had not been so angry, so caught in the moment after killing the first four men, she would have immediately leaped back in the water to hide herself.

But I knew there were others.

Rondel surprised her when he tended her wounds. He managed to keep his mouth shut and his hands focused on the task. For that she did respect him, which oddly enough only angered her more. It brought the ever-present guilt at the back of her mind forward for not thanking him for his efforts.

But she couldn’t allow herself to do that. To her, it meant showing vulnerability, and she had sworn never to show anyone any sign of weakness.

It allows for friendships to develop. I don’t need that complication.

She swore under her breath in her native tongue.

Andrasta questioned again why she ever partnered with the former minstrel.

Nothing but problems. Well, that’s not entirely true.

Rondel had made many mistakes in their short time together, but he had also done things that gave her pause, allowing her to see his value.

Even though they had little to show for it yet, she had to admit his wisdom in taking the girl to Girga had been sound.

I would have never known who she was. And it wasn’t his fault the king had no money.
Her hand drifted to her belt where she tickled Jahi’s money pouch.
Even if we fail now, we’ve gotten something out of the ordeal.

He’s even improving as a fighter.

She hated to admit the positives were starting to outweigh the negatives.

Her old Master’s words came to her.
“Never rely on someone else. It’s dangerous and makes you weak.”

She thought again of the wound Rondel had tended. It may have been difficult for her to handle on her own but in the past she would have managed it somehow.