Wayward Soldiers (19 page)

She gave me a startled look.

“What I mean is the Lasha I didn’t know. The one you became friends with and worked with at the Soiled Dove. I don’t need to know the . . . details of her work there, but her personality, who she was. Since I’ve come home, I’ve been afraid to really confront that part of her life other than to think of all the things I know she had to do. I can go to Zadok and Myra about it, but I get the feeling it would be hard on them to revisit that time, so I was wondering if you could fill in those gaps.”

She touched my hand. “I’d love nothing better.”

* * *

I heard quite a bit about Lasha, but oddly enough, learned nothing new. It seemed that even in drastically different surroundings and circumstances, the core of who my wife was remained unchanged. Selfless. Loving. Kind. Nurturing. Even her sense of humor never left her completely. She was just a woman caught in a bad situation, determined not to let the situation define her. That made me even more proud to call her my wife.

Reuma and I finished talking just before sunset. I could have kept at it until morning, but Reuma needed to see to her duties. She left me at the tree, staring at the river now empty of people. Most everyone had long since dried themselves off in preparation for dinner and sleep.

I mulled over what we had discussed, but didn’t get very far.

“Mind if I ask what that was all about?” Ava asked, interrupting my thoughts as she walked over to me.

“What?”

“You and Reuma talked for hours. Lots of laughing, maybe even what looked like a few tears. Something I should know about?” she asked with a sidelong look.

“Oh,” I chuckled, catching her meaning. “No. There’s nothing you need to know about. We just talked. Completely innocent and no intention of that changing from either of us. Besides, I believe she’s got eyes for someone else.”

“Who?”

“Sorry, it’s a secret.”

“Figures. You always keep the good stuff to yourself. Sometimes I wish I had a sister. Maybe then I could get some good dirt.” She sat beside me. “I’m sure your admirer will be glad to hear that nothing’s going on between you and Reuma though.”

“What?”

She motioned over her shoulder. Just at the edge of camp I saw Damaris fiddling with a sack, doing a poor job of pretending to be busy. She glanced my way several times.

“She’s been doing that for the better part of an hour,” said Ava. “Woman has got it bad for you.”

“I don’t know why. I purposefully try to keep my distance from her. I mean, she’s nice enough but I don’t want that right now, maybe not ever.”

“Maybe the fact you’re keeping your distance is making things worse. She wants what isn’t available.”

“So you want me to smother her in attention until she gets sick of me?”

She shrugged. “Just a thought. I know I’d get sick of you if you were always bothering me.”

I snorted.

“So you going to tell me about that conversation with Reuma?”

“We talked about her. Some about Myra. A lot about Lasha. I wanted someone to tell me what she was like in the years I was gone.”

“And?”

I swallowed. “She remained the woman I married until the end. Not that I’m completely surprised. Still, it was nice to hear.”

Ava patted my shoulder. “The world could do with more people like her.”

“I’d take just the one and be happy.”

“The people traveling with us aren’t so bad anymore at least.”

“True. But that could change if things get bad again. That’s why I decided to start making myself more available to others instead of holing up by our fire and only coming out to bark orders. Why give them a reason to dislike me?”

“Probably a good idea. Also probably a good idea that you go get drunk with Nason tonight.”

I blinked. “Huh?”

Her voice took on a lecturing tone. “He needs you. You need him. Go talk about losing your wives.”

“It’s probably time. Better get some food in me first though.”

“Make it a lot of food the way you handle your alcohol.”

I stood, muttering. “Don’t start messing with me about that too. I swear you’re getting to be as bad as Hamath was.”

She stood too and laughed. “Nah, I’d have to wait for you to imitate a turkey buzzard first, then get on you about it.”

I gave Ava a less than pleasant look, but it was lost on her.

She stared off toward Hol. There was a slight change in the view. The sky pulsed as it had before the second eruption. It hadn’t begun cycling through colors yet, so that was good. Of course, I didn’t know if each eruption would follow the same pattern as before.

I swore. “When did that start?”

“Just now. Well, I thought I might have seen something earlier, but with the daylight, I wasn’t sure if my eyes were just playing tricks on me.”

A dull flash of violet winked in the distance, then the sky returned to what passed for normal these days.

“No mistaking that,” I said.

“I felt that one too. I’m a little nauseated.” She reached over and touched my arm, taking advantage of my resistance. “Better.” She sighed. “Something’s going to happen again. I’m not sure when, but soon. Maybe a couple of days. A week at most, I think.”

“Stop staring. I don’t want to draw attention to the sky just yet. Let them discover it on their own. That should keep panic down for a bit.”

“Good idea.”

“Pass the word, no training tomorrow. Call it a reprieve, but truth is we need to put more miles between us and the artifact. Nason’s going to have to wait longer before we get drunk. We leave at first light.”

CHAPTER 25

It seems that any time I’ve tried to make up for lost time, life has had different plans.

I slept awful, thinking about Lasha, thinking about how to fix things with Myra, and on occasion, watching the sky to see if I could catch another step in its progression. To make matters worse, several rocks ganged up on me and worked their way into the small of my back.

If I had to guess, I managed three hours of sleep total. That didn’t stop me from being the first one up. I was anxious to get moving.

I woke barking orders at everyone. Like most people, I’m usually in a bad mood in the mornings. With little sleep, it’s just compounded.

Thankfully, the freaks of nature, those jovial souls who smile widely before even wiping the crust from their eyes, had the good sense to stay clear of me.

I told Dekar to push the pace. We jammed everyone who couldn’t keep up on foot into the backs of wagons. It seemed many wanted to complain about the lack of space and comfort, but wisely bit their lips. I was in no mood to hear their sob stories.

To my surprise, no one asked what had gotten into me. I didn’t feel the need to volunteer any information.

We made good time in the morning, clearing a few miles more than usual.

Things were going as planned. But I knew plans didn’t work out as intended, or in some cases, even hoped for. That knowledge was reaffirmed as Sivan pounded the road toward me, kicking up a cloud of dust in his wake. He leaned forward, and beat the flank of his mount like some demon of Xank was in pursuit.

I called for an immediate halt and put everyone on alert. We didn’t have a place nearby to get off the road in order to turn our wagons into a defensive position, but we at least had ample warning in case we were about to get news of more raiders in the area.

Squads took their positions with weapons drawn. Women and children moved to the center of our group, using whatever was available to hide behind. No one wanted to be caught off guard.

People moved quickly and with certainty. Not one person, even those new to our group, panicked.

They made me proud again.

I stayed at the front beside the lead wagon with Dekar. I held my drawn sword. Dekar had a bow notched as Sivan reined in.

The old tailor wore a layer of dust from the road unmatched by anyone else traveling. Much of it hid the age of his face as it did the cut of his clothes. He turned his mount quickly while he took us in.

“Hold! There aren’t any raiders. There’s a large fissure that splits the road up ahead. Seven people in two wagons went in. It’s not easy to see unless you’re practically on top of it. I almost fell in myself. Five are still alive. They’ve been standing on a thin ledge for a while and getting tired. One is pregnant.”

I sheathed my weapon, ran back to the bed of Dekar’s wagon and found a length of rope. I threw it to Sivan. He caught it and secured it across his lap. “Go back and do what you can. I’ll be along shortly with some men.”

He nodded and rode off.

I looked to Dekar. “Get everyone moving again and catch up as soon as possible. Let Ira run point just in case this is still some sort of trap.”

He set his bow down. Reins clicked and wagon wheels rolled as I worked myself down our line of travelers, picking out men for the task.

* * *

In the end I grabbed six—Nason, Liam, Sered, Boaz, Evran, and Meshek. Most I selected because I knew I could count on them. Meshek and Evran were recent additions. One look at Meshek and no one would question why I picked the man for physical work as he looked like he’d been fathered by an ox. He definitely had the neck of one. I grabbed Evran, wanting to gauge how he’d do in a potentially stressful situation. The kid from Uman had shown some potential.

We caught up to Sivan quickly, spotting his mount tied to a withered old pine tree.

He squatted in the middle of the road, about fifty feet from his mount. He turned at our arrival. Sweat dripped off his nose and chin. “Hurry up! The woman isn’t conscious.”

We dismounted and ran over. Heat poured from the fracture in the ground. That familiar sulphuric smell that reminded me of rotten eggs and an old latrine rode the back of the heat.

I wondered how long the people inside had been there. The heat would make it impossible for them to survive for long.

Sivan hollered down into the abyss. “I got some help now. Hang tight!”

“Just get my wife up!” a voice yelled back.

Nason helped me with the rope Sivan had secured while the others readied the two extra ropes we brought.

At Sivan’s command, Nason and I pulled.

I was nearer the fissure and in between breaths peered inside. It was daylight above, but below, it was night. Well, at least as night used to get. If not for the busted wagons about the opening, it’d be impossible to know there was anyone in the fissure.

As we pulled the rope, the outline of a person, a woman, broke through the black.

Sivan met my eyes. “You got the rope? Since she’s unconscious I’m going to put my hands under her arms to get her out.”

I wrapped the rope around my forearm while squatting low and leaning back. “I got it. Give Sivan a hand, Nason.”

“You sure?”

“Just go.”

He let the rope drop behind me. The fibers dug into my skin. I was glad I only had to bear her weight for a few moments while Nason and Sivan got her out.

Sered threw another rope down. “We got another rope ready. Can anyone see it? Someone grab hold of it.”

“Got it!” came the reply from below.

I dropped the rope and helped carry the woman from the opening to give the others more room to work.

Like Sivan said, she was unconscious. Reddish-blonde hair adorned with dirt and muck. Her face was little better, as the grime had comingled with her sweat to form a nice layer of sludge. I imagined she was a fairly attractive woman, though she was in desperate need of a bath.

“She seems to be breathing,” said Nason. “That’s got to be a good thing.”

“It usually is,” I said with a bit of sarcasm. “But look at her lips. Cracked and dry.”

“Not surprising given the heat down there,” added Sivan. He stood. “Let me grab the water skin from my mount. We need to get some in her and anyone else they’re bringing up.”

While he went to his horse, I looked to Nason. He held an open hand over the woman’s face, trying to shield the sunlight from reaching her closed eyes. The gesture spoke of what sort of person Nason was.

“Stay with her while I help the others on the ropes,” I said, patting his shoulder.

I moved back toward the fissure. Two teams of two worked the ropes. Separately, Boaz helped a man recently rescued over to a spot where another lay.

It seemed I picked the right people for the job.

Of the two teams, Liam and Meshek worked in one group. I trusted Liam enough not to worry about them. He had come a long way since Ira broke him in weapons training.

Sered and Evran worked the other rope. The muscles on the blacksmith’s arms and shoulders bulged as he pulled. Though the man had great strength, he seemed to be struggling more than I expected. I imagined it had partly to do with Evran. Red-faced and grunting, the boy looked ready to pass out under the strain of their load.

I ran over and grabbed the back of the rope. Sered glanced my way with gratitude. It became obvious why when I felt the weight of the load myself.

“Gods, are we trying to haul up one of their horses?” I asked.

“I asked the same,” Sered grunted. “They said their animals are dead.”

“Big man then.”

He nodded, not wanting to waste any more breath.

We made slow progress, one inch at a time. Out the corner of my eye, Liam and Meshek pulled another man out of the fissure.

Evran swore something as the rope ground to a halt and we all nearly lost our grip.

Sered joined him in the swearing. “By the gods, is someone pulling down on the other end?”

“Can you see what’s going on, Evran?” I asked.

“I’ll try.” The boy winced while positioning himself to look into the fissure. He swore again with much more passion. “We aren’t even pulling anyone up!”

“What do you mean?”

“It looks like a chest, and it’s hung up on a large chunk of rock jutting out from the wall.”

“Can we twist it a bit to get it clear?” I asked.

“We’d have to lower it and swing it out before we pulled again.”

My hands ached from pulling, let alone doing the acrobatics Evran suggested. “We don’t have time for that. Lower the chest back down. Then holler to those below to tie themselves up instead.”

“You sure you want to leave it? Whatever is inside has to be important or valuable for them to have us bring it up first,” said Sered.

“I’m not having us kill ourselves over it. Start lowering.”

Just as we began easing the rope down, a shout of “Wait” came from my right.

The man Liam and Meshek had just rescued, a skinny whip of a man with a long, scraggly beard, was the owner of the voice. He started walking over, staggering from exhaustion. “Don’t lower it. I’ll help.”

I shook my head. Any help he could give would be minimal at best, and that was if he could even keep his feet.

“Tyrus, this is getting really heavy,” said Evran.

“Keep lowering. Just do it slowly so we don’t lose the rope,” I said to the boy. I grunted at the stranger next. “Sit down and get some rest. Nothing is worth killing yourself over.”

The man’s face went hard. “This is. Now, let me—”

I narrowed my eyes, angry under the strain. “I said. Sit. Down.” Each word came out through clenched teeth.

The man went for his dagger. It didn’t go well as he sliced his finger clumsily withdrawing it. He did manage to get it facing the right way though.

A commotion behind me erupted a moment later. I glanced over my shoulder. The two men we saved earlier caught wind of the situation. One had pinned Boaz’s arms while the other placed a sword at the former innkeeper’s neck.

The man with the sword bore a hair lip that affected his enunciation as he shouted a warning to the skinny man with the bleeding finger. “Rav! Behind you!”

Rav spun, slashing his dagger wildly. Liam stepped back and to the right, avoiding the attack.

“All right, wait!” I shouted.

Everyone froze.

I tried to spot Nason, Sivan, and the pregnant woman, but couldn’t with the angle I was in. I hoped they wouldn’t do something stupid.

Evran whined about his grip. Sered whispered some encouragement to hold. The rope shook from our strain.

The man with the sword shouted again. “Tell your man to back away from Rav!”

“You heard the man, Liam.”

He didn’t move. I could see him weighing the situation. He and I both knew he could easily take Rav. However, it wouldn’t happen without repercussions.

“Back off, Liam. I won’t have you risk Boaz,” I said.

He sighed in obvious frustration, but obeyed.

“Good,” said the man with the sword. He walked toward us, limping, and gesturing for his friend to bring Boaz. “Now, haul that rope up.”

“You mind telling us what it is we’re hauling up?” I asked.

“No,” he said, stopping near us. “And if you don’t start bringing it up, bad things will happen.”

He placed the point of his sword against Boaz’s shoulder, pressing until a line of blood ran down his arm. Boaz grit his teeth, but kept silent.

“All right! Stop!”

He did.

“Start swinging the chest out like Evran suggested,” I said to Sered.

“I don’t think I can do it anymore, Tyrus. My grip is slipping.” Evran sounded panicked.

“I can help,” said Liam.

“No!” said the man with the sword. “You and him,” he pointed at Meshek, “get the rope ready to bring up our other friend.”

“Didn’t you listen?” asked Liam. “The boy said he is about to drop your prized chest. Let me help him first, then we can get your friend.”

“If the boy drops the chest, your friend loses an arm.”

Things happened quickly then. Practically all at once. Or at least that’s how it seemed in the moment. Sivan ran at the man with the sword, shouting. I swore at the stupidity, thinking that my fear from earlier was coming to life.

Then I realized Sivan was a distraction.

I don’t know why I thought he’d do something stupid. The man was former military and sharp as a knife.

While all eyes turned on Sivan, Nason snuck around a different angle and knocked both Boaz and the man holding him to the ground. Liam took advantage of the commotion and went after Rav. Meshek darted after the man with the sword.

I saw or heard nothing more regarding the scuffle though for good reason.

Evran’s grip finally went out.

He panicked and not knowing what else to do, tried to regain control of the rope. The weight of the chest yanked him forward, and he tumbled over the edge.