Barrenlands (The Changespell Saga) Page 30

  "You'd do your brother proud," Ehren told him, stopping him near the self-contained conflagration that would have annihilated their entire camp had Laine not seen the danger coming. Even with the heat of the lingering fire against his face, chills ran down Ehren's spine.

  Back at the creek, Laine curried Nimble, his face pale. Jada, too, seemed shocked by the violence of the spell. Her own horse was already saddled, and she sat by Ehren's packs, chewing on tough dried meat and watching Ehren approach. "He's not playing around anymore."

  "No." Ehren cast a look over his shoulder to the fading flames. "Laine..." But when Laine turned to look at him, Ehren just shook his head. "Thank you."

  "My pleasure," Laine said. He, too, watched the flames for a moment, then scooped up his saddle and set it on Nimble's back. "I know you were planning on moving up on foot, but... I don't think the horses should be left behind. At least, not your horses."

  "Hells," Ehren breathed. "You're right. We'll find a place to put them where they can't be seen." He couldn't chance losing the boys to that.

  The morning light lingered dim and diffuse. Ehren made quick work of loading packs on Ricasso and saddling Shaffron while the other two waited; he donned only his greaves, thick leather gauntlets, and King's Guard ailette. He tied his hair back, the honor feather and beads securely attached. It was enough to remind them who he was, without shouting that he was looking for trouble. Jada nodded her silent approval when he was done, and they moved into the damp woods, heading for the meadow.

  Jada entered the wet meadow, checking that Ehren's horses were truly out of sight. When she returned she was soaked to her knees from the wet grasses, but looked grimly satisfied. "This whole area is in shadow— it'll stay that way all morning. They'd have to be looking for us to find us, and even then they'd have to come up close. And they usually gather at the other end of the meadow."

  "That's how I remembered it," Ehren said, and then gave a short laugh at Jada's expression. "You think Benlan never hunted here? How do you suppose it came to be Rodar's favorite spot?"

  "I... guess I never thought about it," Jada said.

  "No." Ehren realized that none of the new Guards would have thought about it. To them, Benlan was a figurehead they'd served under for the first few months of training— or the king who'd been killed right before they came to serve Rodar. Ehren was the only one left who'd known the king, really known him— served under him, hunted with him, stayed after long hours of Upper Level meetings and shared a glass of wine with him.

  If he died, the search for Benlan's killers would no doubt die as well.

  No wonder Varien was so bent on getting him out of the way. If he'd had anything to do with Benlan's death, Ehren was the last major threat to his safety.

  "Ehren?" Jada said quietly, jarring Ehren out of his thoughts.

  "Nothing," he said. "Just... thinking it all over."

  "Yeah," she said, after a moment. "Me, too." He flashed her a look, discovered her expression was as somber as he felt, and abruptly grinned at her.

  "We'll do all right," he said. "All we really have to do is get Rodar's attention. If you spent much time guarding him, it shouldn't be too hard. He'll want to talk to you, even if he puts me in chains to do it."

  "I don't think we should let it come to that," Jada said tightly.

  Ehren didn't answer. It wasn't his favored scenario, either, but he'd rather be in the hands of his fellow Guards than being hunted and killed by Varien's spells. On the other hand, being in the hands of his fellow Guards, unable to run, would be immensely inconvenient if Varien chose to send a spell after him.

  They waited in silence for a while, suffering another short and fitful rain shower and increased concern that the day's hunt would be called off. Finally— finally— Ehren heard the first sounds of riders in the woods.

  The royal party arrived quickly after that. Two Guards rode point; they exchanged a few quiet words with each other and went straight to the center of the meadow, putting their horses head-to-tail to survey the area. "Relax," Ehren muttered to Laine, who'd gone tense as a board.

  "Yeah, right," Laine muttered back. On his right, Jada nudged him. By then, the noisy riders had arrived— Rodar with a handful of young men, all mounted on highly bred horses and outfitted in hunting greens that did nothing to subdue their presence. Their laughter and the jingle of their equipment could be easily discerned by any creature within a quarter mile. Ehren would be surprised if the line of whippers and houndsmen managed to chase a deer through this meadow.

  Not that he intended for the hunt to get that far.

  Rodar had four more Guards positioned around him and his friends, and behind them came several more riders yet. The Guards, male and female alike, had short shorn hair— variations on the theme Rodar had set. Ehren took it as warning. These were Guards, but they weren't his Guards— and they probably felt the same about him.

  The huntmaster trailed them all, looking a bit despairing even at this distance.

  And then came one more, not easily identifiable, but—

  "Hells," whispered Jada. "Is that Varien? He came on the damn hunt?"

  On the heels of her words, Laine whispered, "That's him. He's the one I saw, Ehren. The eyes..."

  Benlan's killer.

  Cold emotion washed down Ehren's spine. "Yes," he said to both of them, and his voice came out just as cold, and imbued with... if not hate, then a certain kind of loathing, and unyielding resolution. "He's not hunting tender deer, I can tell you that much."

  "No," Jada murmured, giving him a nearly unreadable glance. Beneath it, Ehren thought he saw fear. None of them had expected Varien to act so openly. He sat his horse on the left-most fringes of the royal party, composed and unconcerned.

  He was there to protect the king from Ehren, no doubt. Very noble.

  "Varien will do his best to ensure we don't talk to Rodar," Ehren said, but his voice remained resolute. Varien might try to stop him—

  "I can," Jada said. "Let me go alone, Ehren."

  "After what happened to Algere, you're just as rogue as I am." Ehren narrowed his eyes, looking hard at the man on Rodar's right. "Gerhard's there, too. He could be part of this thing."

  "He may be from Loraka, but he's loyal. His priority is protecting Rodar." Jada spoke with assurance— and didn't convince Ehren in the least.

  "All right, then," he said anyway. "Nothing left but to do it." He stood, and his hand passed wistfully over the clean lines of his sword's stirrup hilt— then fell away empty. Jada scrambled to her feet as well. A hesitant beat behind them both came Laine. As one, they stepped into the clear, walking with calm purpose toward the milling royal party.

  One of the Guards snapped a short warning to the others, and Rodar's quartet immediately tightened around him. Laine faltered a step as the two Guards on point spurred their horses forward. Ehren and Jada's names hung in the air, sounding like curses; Gerhard called out an order that Ehren couldn't decipher, but that sounded dire.

  "Steady," Ehren told Laine, giving Jada a hard look. "We're here to talk. As long as we remember that—"

  "That's not it— look at— look—"

  Ehren glanced sharply at him; he instantly recognized the expression there. "Where?" he asked, dropping into readiness— a pose the Guards immediately misinterpreted.

  Their swords, once inconspicuous, rose high, and Gerhard's voice resounded rough and commanding above pounding hooves. "Hold them there!"

  "I can't... I can't—" Laine said, his gaze moving from Guards to the area between himself and Varien.

  He couldn't concentrate, that was it. "Damn," Ehren said under his breath, his hand hovering by his sword, wanting desperately to snatch it free despite his resolve to handle this quietly.

  "There!" Laine cried, and the clearing erupted into action as he flung himself before Ehren and the spell he'd Seen— and yelped as he was snatched up in midair, his arms and legs outflung and stretched tight.

  Jada's wordless cry of a
larm rang in Ehren's ears, and the Guards pulled up hard, astonished, splitting up to flow to either side of the trio— passing around Ehren and Laine, with Jada a step behind. Passing around Laine and—

  "No!" Varien's voice rang through the clearing. "You fool!"

  The Guard took one look at Laine's renewed terror— another spell— and his horse's head flung up, eyes rolling and nostrils widened with fear.

  And then it was too late.

  The spell triggered, and the air around the Guard and horse turned smoky and dense. Laine, suspended only yards in front of them, fought to turn his head aside, his features twisted with horror.

  "Stand down!" Ehren shouted, slipping through the hole opened by the Guards. "We're here to talk to Rodar— Guard's Right!" His sword had finally, somehow, found its way to his hand. But steel was impotent against magic, and the smoky cloud turned into a swarm of black specks that dove and whirled around the hapless Guard and his mount. Horse and human screamed; they seemed to blur, and the haze turned more pink than smoke, thick enough that the frantic figures within were obscured.

  When it cleared, they were gone.

  No one else moved. No one else, for the moment, dared to. The metal of the Guard's gear and horse's tack lay scattered in the grass, winking greasily in a moment of sunlight breaking through the clouds.

  Laine fought and lost to the magic that pinned him in mid-air, his expression tight with fear. "Stop him, Ehren," he said, gasping out the words past the spell. "Just stop him, before it gets worse."

  "I'll stop him, all right," Ehren growled. He cast Jada a look, ignoring her pale face. Watch my back. Then, sword in hand, he headed for Rodar with ground-eating strides. "We need to talk, Rodar."

  No Your Highness. No groveling. Instead, reminding Rodar who he was— and who he had been. And seeing Rodar's uncertainty in reply.

  It bit more deeply than he'd expected.

  "Halt!" cried the Guard still behind him, her voice strained and reluctant. Then, in surprise, "Jada, no!" After a moment, her body hit the ground with a thud. Jada at work.

  Steel rang on steel, nearly obscuring Jada's voice. "Let him go, Benna— we don't want to fight! Varien is the enemy here!"

  And given even a moment's chance, would create another spell to kill them all—

  Ehren strode inexorably onward, heading for Rodar— watching Varien.

  "Come no closer," Gerhard commanded, moving between the king and Ehren.

  Rodar sat behind him on a horse that pawed the ground, snorting fractiously. Ehren was close enough to see the surprise in his eyes— surprise that the game of being king had suddenly turned into something much more dangerous, as his bodyguard tightened around him. "Ehren," he said, barely audible, his voice uncertain and a little betrayed.

  "I need to talk to the king," Ehren told Gerhard, stopping. His sword hung loosely in his hand, the tip down. "Guard's Right."

  Gerhard dismounted and released his horse, a deliberate move designed to put him on equal terms with Ehren. I am not afraid of you. "You are outlaw. You have no Guard's Right here." He nodded at the sword. "Lay down your weapon."

  Varien watched with piercing gaze, poised to act. Ehren shook his head, slowly. "I would have preferred to do this quietly—" in the background, Jada's sword rang an ironic counterpoint to his words—"but do it, I will. Rodar is safe from me, Gerhard. Varien is your outlaw."

  Varien made a sharp gesture. "Get away from the king!"

  Ehren stiffened, bracing against magical assault...

  Nothing.

  Varien dismounted his horse, a humorless smile on his face. "You're far too close to the king— I would never risk my sovereign's life. But your friend is another story." His expression held confident satisfaction, the face of a man who fully expected to win this fight— and to enjoy doing it. He nodded at Laine— still shackled by magic— and was rewarded with an instant cry of pain. And then another...

  And another.

  Ehren set his jaw. "Stop him," he told Gerhard, his voice grating in his throat.

  Gerhard cast Laine an uneasy look, and stood fast. "Only you can do that. Surrender yourself, Ehren."

  "Rodar!" Ehren called, meeting that uncertain gaze over the distance between them. "This is your choice!"

  Gerhard tooka step forward. "Lay down your weapon."

  But Rodar sat straighter in the saddle, behind his phalanx of Guards— his pride pricked. "Leave that man alone, Varien. My Guards have this under control."

  Varien cast him a contemptuous look. "Your Guards are children." Behind them, Laine gargled a raw noise. "Do you want your friend dead, Ehren? Do as you're told. Drop your weapons."

  "Varien!" Rodar snapped, but this time his voice held a faint, queasy desperation.

  Varien's gaze never wavered from Ehren. Do you want your friend dead?

  Rodar couldn't stop him. The Guards wouldn't even try. Jada had her hands full...

  We didn't come to fight.

  But fight he would— for Laine. To reach Rodar. To stop Varien.

  Ehren lunged for the wizard.

  Gerhard was just as fast, darting between them. Ehren turned the lighter blade aside with a snarl of impatience but Gerhard came right back at him, lightning quick— landing a solid hit on Ehren's gauntlet and retreating while Laine's torment rang in Ehren's ears.

  Ehren bore down on Gerhard in fury.

  A Guard's worst mistake.

  Gerhard skipped back out of his way, flinging his free hand up to keep the other Guards with Rodar. They gathered tightly around the young king, pushing him away. The point of Gerhard's narrow blade found Ehren's flesh in quick succession— arm, thigh, and a quick touch on his chest.

  It was the sting of the last that broke through Ehren's anger. Panting, he struggled to adjust his style to the Lorakan moves— keeping his wrist light and loose, letting Gerhard's blade slide off his own. He allowed Gerhard the attack, countering with the swift parries his hand knew so well and blinking aside rage along with sweat.

  Gerhard saw the difference. "Now," he said, wiping away the sweat on his own brow. "Now we find out."

  "That's not what this is—" parry, quick riposte—"about," Ehren said.

  Gerhard's answer was to press in close, forcing Ehren's sword aside with the forte of his blade and bringing his hilt up to smash against Ehren's head. Ehren jerked aside and took the glancing blow, shoving Gerhard back out of distance— bringing his sword up to guard while he tried to blink his vision back to normal. Blood trickled down the side of his face.

  Dimly, he noted that Laine had stopped screaming.

  In that moment, with his own harsh breath filling his ears, with Gerhard stalking him, wary and about to strike, it was Varien who caught Ehren's eye. It was Varien who stood— now close by and still unconcerned— Varien with his smile and his hands twisting in some new and complex spell that no one else seemed to notice.

  Varien, about to attack.

  Ehren closed the distance on Gerhard, gaining ground while they traded blows in the third and fourth lines. He'd seen Gerhard's students forget the importance of gauging distance, and he kept his gain subtle, hoping... hoping—

  Gerhard broke the rhythm by lunging low— and only then realized how close they were. Ehren grabbed the outstretched arm, yanking Gerhard off balance as his foot swept behind Gerhard's leg and took him off his feet.

  Gerhard landed hard on his back and Ehren jerked the sword out of his hand, flinging it toward the woods as his sword came to rest at Gerhard's throat.

  The Guard master dropped his hands to the ground by his shoulders, fingers spread wide in capitulation. The other Guards spurred their horses into motion toward Ehren, leaving only one man with Rodar.

  Varien... the Guards...

  He couldn't handle them both.

  Laine's newly raw voice cried a warning. "Ehren! The spell— !"

  The wizard raised his hands in a theatrical flourish, his shoulders drawn back, his arms lifted... his victory on the edge of
bursting through.

  Can't handle them both.

  He could stop Varien, and fall to the Guards.

  Or he could face the Guards, and fall to Varien's magic...

  While Varien lived on.

  Ehren held Varien's coldly triumphant gaze and lifted his sword to first guard, hand at shoulder height, blade dropping diagonally across his body with the edge out.

  It looked awkward, it looked useless— and in the frozen moment of time when Ehren stared into Varien's eyes, the expression he found there told him so. But Ehren met that gaze with a hard and merciless look of his own, his voice so low that only its intensity carried it to Varien. "This time, you lose."

  There was no finesse in Ehren's movement, just fierce expertise. A step forward, a pivot, and all the energy in his body going to the motion of his rising blade. He held Varien's gaze for one last moment before the rotation of his own body pulled him away, and saw the astonished disbelief there. And then came the satisfying bite of blade into skin and through Varien's neck— sharp steel driven by the force of Ehren's movement, hesitating at but not stopped by bone... and suddenly whipping free again, all the way around to strike dirt by Ehren's right foot. Something round and heavy hit the ground in the corner of his vision.

  Ehren didn't turn to see what he'd done; he knew. The cries of dismay told him. So did the Guards' expressions as they thundered up to him, not bothering with swords as they rode him down.

  ~~~~~

  Rough hands hauled Ehren to his feet. When his chin sagged on his chest, someone yanked on his hair, raising his head. Harsh words in his ear meant nothing; his thoughts staggered with recent memory— the huge bulk of horses riding overhead, one of them rearing and the hooves coming down again and again, of trying to roll out of the way—

  There was enough wrongness, enough broken inside him that he knew he hadn't been fast enough. Ribs grated; there was the taste of blood in his mouth, and plenty soaking his clothes. When the Guards on either side of him gave him the chance to stand on his own, he came nowhere near close to managing it.