Mage Hunter Omnibus (Complete 5 Book Series) Page 21

  Zanbra called the group to a halt, causing Guthrie to look back at the woman.

  “This is the way we traveled before,” she pointed out, still not looking directly at the sergeant.

  Guthrie nodded in agreement. “Yes, but I went this way once before with Captain Werner, and we did not encounter that temple or any magic. With Ildra dead and Verkain ... wherever he is ... I think we are safe along this path.”

  Zanbra looked to Spear Kroff. “What say you?”

  The burly fellow shrugged. “What choice do we have? It’s either this or go back and face the Kobalans. Personally, I’d like to put a little distance between them and us.”

  Now it was Zanbra who nodded. Without glancing at the sergeant, she waved him forward. “Carry on.”

  Guthrie glared at her for a moment, wondering how much longer he had before she would either say something to Kroff or attempt to kill the sergeant herself, but then he let it go. They had other enemies to escape at the moment.

  Turning away, Guthrie took the lead with Kroff behind and Zanbra bringing up the rear. For the third time in a matter of weeks, Guthrie plodded along through the winding, gray trail that left little room for more than single file marching. Walls of stone reached up on either side, and all a person had to do was reach out to touch them. It was a boring route, one that dulled the nerves.

  Just as Guthrie was beginning to lull himself into a near trance, one foot in front of the other, Kroff called out for the group to come to a halt.

  “We’ve traveled far enough, I think,” the Spear said, kneeling on the ground and breaking out the small sheet of canvas he had picked up earlier. Then he lifted a hand toward Guthrie. “Your knife, if you please?”

  Guthrie handed over the small blade, then watched as Kroff cut out four pieces of canvas a little bigger than large napkins. The Spear worked at splicing away a half dozen thick strings from one edge of the remaining sheet.

  Looking up at his companions, Zanbra and Guthrie keeping their distance from one another, the Spear offered a grin. “Zanbra and I need shoes,” he explained, glancing down at his bare feet, nearly blue from walking on the cold stone ground.

  Then he passed the woman some of the coarse rags he had created, as well as several of the strings. Soon enough the two were wearing makeshift footwear, the black cloth tied around and above their ankles. Kroff stood and returned the dagger to Guthrie.

  Before the group could travel further, Kroff asked the others, “What happened back there?”

  Guthrie glanced to Zanbra but saw her lips were remaining shut. “What do you mean?”

  “That heavy wind, the storm, whatever it was?” Kroff asked. “From where did it spring? It had to be magic.”

  Zanbra did not offer an opinion, so Guthrie felt safe for the moment. He shrugged. “Perhaps from Verkain.”

  “That makes no sense,” Kroff said. “Why would he bring that upon his own men?”

  Glancing once more to Zanbra, the sergeant saw the woman was still not talking nor looking directly at him. For whatever reason, perhaps fearing her lesser officer would question her, Zanbra was keeping quiet. Maybe she only wanted a moment alone with Kroff to explain what she had witnessed back at the camp. Guthrie could not know her thoughts. But he was already lying, and she seemed not inclined to stop him. Why not push a little further before Kroff’s own curiosity brought forth something terrible between the three?

  “Maybe something went wrong with Verkain’s spell,” Guthrie suggested, not meaning a word of it. “Maybe magic is wild. I don’t know.”

  For the first time since she had stood back in the camp, Zanbra’s eyes locked on those of the sergeant. Yes, she most definitely knew he was lying.

  “Perhaps,” Kroff said, shaking his head. “It just doesn’t seem to make sense.”

  Hoping to push off this conversation until another time, Guthrie asked, “What about Ildra’s baby?”

  “I guess you were unconscious the whole while we were in camp?” Kroff asked.

  “Most of it,” Guthrie said, “at least until the end, when I managed to slip out of my bonds.” Lies upon lies. They kept piling up, but at least for now they were keeping the sergeant from more immediate danger.

  “Then you missed the Dartague warriors who appeared when the Kobalans set up camp,” Kroff said. “Apparently there was a big meeting between Verkain and several Dartague chieftains. Zanbra and I didn’t hear much of it, but we did learn a few things. I do know the Dartague took the babe with them when they left, and that they were not overly pleased.”

  Zanbra stepped forward. “We can discuss all this later.” She glanced back the way they had come. “For now, we need to put more miles between us and the Kobalans, in case they should decide to hunt us down.” Then she glanced to the sky. “And we will need shelter soon.”

  “There will be a cave somewhere ahead,” Guthrie offered, “but I do not know how far. I was asleep on horseback when Werner brought me there.”

  Zanbra glared at the sergeant one more time, then she turned away as if spurning a lover.

  For the first time, Kroff sensed the tension, but he said nothing about it for the moment. “All right, then. Let us be on our way.”

  They trudged forward, tired and growing colder, drooping into a stubborn silence. To Guthrie it felt as if they tramped along for decades. The constant walking never seemed to end. The sky began to grow dark. The sergeant was sleeping on his feet, one boot slowly ahead of the other, walking, walking, walking. Late afternoon became evening and the dark came early within the confines of the trail, only a hint of blue still in the sky directly above. Eventually even that faded away until there was only blackness upon all sides.

  At this point Kroff suggested they halt for the night, the Spear offering to take the first watch. Guthrie took the second watch, not wanting to drowse while Zanbra was awake and Kroff asleep, forcing the sergeant to remain roused when she took the final watch.

  The night was a long one, and cold. At least there was no wind, the narrow and crooked path blocking the howls and the blowing that reigned above. The rock floor and walls of the trail seemed to seep with cold, a cold that worked its way through cloth and leather and flesh and into the very bones. The chill made everyone stiff in the morning, and the lack of food left their stomachs rumbling. Guthrie thanked Ashal there was no more snow upon the ground.

  Looking ahead, their options appeared dim. They were already tired and hungry, the bruises upon their body from being manhandled by the Kobalans not helping. Something would have to be done to insure their survival. Guthrie realized it might be possible for him to use magic to save them. Maybe he could create a cooking fire and summon up some food. He did not know if any of this was possible, but he would be willing to try if their situation did not improve for the better within the next day or so. Somehow he would have to find a way to try his magic while the others were not around or were not watching, perhaps during his watch of the next night.

  No food, no drink, little protection for their bodies, the group stomped their feet in an effort to warm themselves, then silently began their labors for the day, more walking. As soldiers they were familiar with long hikes, Guthrie especially as a member of the Ursian regular forces, but Zanbra and Kroff were not young, both in their early fifties, and while both were strong, the recent events and the environment were beginning to weigh heavily upon them. By noon of that day, both knights were looking ten years older. Which nearly caused Guthrie to chuckle, him figuring he was not looking all that well himself.

  Eventually they came to the small cave inset in a northern wall of the trail. Guthrie had rested here once before. He motioned for the others to rest, then suggested he would try to find some kindling and perhaps something to eat. He mentioned his former companion, Captain Werner, had managed to scrounge up some rock lizards for a small meal, and Guthrie had hopes he could do the same. His current companions were silent on the subject, morose as they plopped onto the cold stone floor of the cave,
only Kroff offering a nod as if he had heard Guthrie’s words.

  Moving off by himself ahead of the knights, the sergeant glanced back at his companions, the two closing their eyes and leaning against one another for support and warmth. He did not know how much longer they could hold out. He would do as he had suggested, hunt for kindling and something to eat, but if that did not work, he would be forced to make use of his magic to keep them alive, especially as he had no other way to start a fire, even if he could find a batch of dried twigs and branches.

  The twigs and branches turned out to be easy enough to find. The trail was littered here and their with dead scrub brush, even some few small dead trees in places. Food was another matter. Guthrie wished for a crossbow or even a sling, nearly hoping his magic would make such weapons appear, but this did not happen. He did find a few lizards of the same kind he and Werner had munched upon, but the sergeant had no luck in catching any. He tried throwing stones, but the lizards were fast and went into hiding.

  Moving further and further from the cave, Guthrie found himself nearly a mile ahead on the mountain trail. He paused a moment to rest, leaning against a wall. Something had to be done. He had collected some kindling, but that alone would not be enough. His eyes closed, he slumped to the ground, feeling the chill of winter eating through his armor and into his chest, into his very soul. His skin was dry because of the exposure, rubbing at his hands producing flakes. His lips were chapped, his limbs stiff.

  He nodded off.

  Chapter 4

  A brushing at his eyelashes startled him awake. Guthrie flinched and blinked. It was snowing again. That was what had brought him around, pale flakes fluttering along his lashes.

  He groaned as he stretched and got to his feet. The rest had done little for him, and he felt more chilled than ever, his limbs heavy and sore as if he had been recently beaten. Picking up the small pile of kindling he had gathered, he began to make his way back toward the cave. This snow was not a good sign, even if it was only flurries so far. This snow could kill them, if his companions were still alive.

  Fear eating away at him once more, Guthrie tried to rush ahead, but he was weak. At the last bend before the cave, he paused for a moment to catch his breath and to steel himself for the worst. It was daylight, but he had no idea how long he had been asleep. Would the knights still be alive? Probably, but when was the last time they had eaten or drank anything? When was the last time they had held any warmth within their bodies? At least Guthrie had the padding of his armor, though that little protection might only prolong his suffering.

  Fearing the worst possible, he rounded the corner and saw the cave’s entrance. The knights were not there. The cave was shallow, all its insides easily seen from Guthrie’s view.

  He almost panicked. What had happened? Moving forward with caution, he saw there was no blood nor other signs of a struggle. There were no obvious tracks away from the cave, but then the weak snow looked to not have been falling long, having only left a dusting across the stone floor of the mountain trail.

  Guthrie glanced up the other end of the trail, back toward the Kobalans. Seeing nothing untoward or his missing fellows, he dropped his package of twigs and tree limbs at the cave’s entrance.

  Movement stirred him. He spun around, one hand on his mace.

  It was Zanbra and Kroff, the two bent over, huddling together as they shuffled forth along the neck of the trail leading back to their enemies. The two had their arms wrapped around one another, but Kroff was holding something small and dark in the crook of one arm.

  They had not looked up at Guthrie yet. Before they did, he decided to try working some magic, something that might save their lives. He glanced down at the little pile of kindling and flashed a thought at the pieces of wood.

  “Burn, damn you,” he muttered under his breath.

  To his surprise, a small flame darted up in the midst of the twigs, catching and spreading.

  Glancing around, Guthrie found some rocks to create a small barrier around the fire.

  “Glad to see you found some flint,” Kroff said as he and Zanbra entered the cave, the two collapsing next to one another along one wall.

  Guthrie looked to them. Both were turning blue. Zanbra’s head hung, the woman either lacking the strength or the will to look up. She appeared asleep.

  Kroff held up a hand, something covered with feathers dangling from it.

  The sergeant rushed forward and stared at a sizable bird of some type. “How in the name of Ashal did you manage this?”

  Kroff gave the animal over to Guthrie and gave a weak chuckle. “We went looking for you and found this thing already wounded down the path. Must’ve got in a fight with something and lost. Zanbra finished it off with a couple of rocks.”

  Glad they would have something to eat, Guthrie took the bird to one side, knelt and went to work on it with his dagger. “Any signs of us being followed?”

  “No,” Kroff said, “but I’m not sure it matters.”

  Guthrie tugged feathers and skinned the bird. “What do you mean?”

  “We’re done, Hackett,” Kroff said with a huff, glancing aside at his fellow knight. “We’ve only been out here a couple of days, I think ... it’s kind of hard to tell ... but the cold is already sapping us. Zanbra is the worst. If we don’t get help soon, we’re dead.”

  “Don’t give up just yet,” Guthrie said. “You never know what might happen.”

  Kroff chuckled again. “For one who does not seem the most zealous of Ashal worshipers, you have a lot of faith.”

  “I never said I don’t believe,” Guthrie said, still working on the animal. Then he paused and glanced over a shoulder, a glint in the sergeant’s eyes. “Besides, I’ve not exactly seen you doing a lot of praying.”

  The Spear’s laughter was heavier this time, shaking his frame and bringing about a cough. Eventually he managed to control his breathing once again. “That is true. I barely made it into the Order.” He glanced at his partner again. “Zanbra, though, you should see her back in Mas Ober. It’s prayers in the morning, prayers after breakfast, prayers before lunch, and after, then at dinner, and after, then before we go to bed each night. And then there are all the prayers at our meetings and whatnot. All the knights aren’t like that, of course, but those fellows are like me, only Spears or Darts. The Swords, like Zanbra here, they’re always praying. And the High Sword, I don’t think that man ever stops praying; probably why we hardly ever see him.”

  “Sounds like a dull life,” Guthrie said, finally finishing with the bird. He went to work making a tree branch into a skewer for cooking the meal. “The army wasn’t much better, though nowhere near as much praying. Lots of standing around on guard duty, paperwork for the officers.”

  “I bet you wish for those times now, don’t you?” Kroff asked.

  “Not exactly,” Guthrie said, holding the bird over the fire. “Oh, I wish we weren’t in all this trouble, but I can’t say I miss the daily routine. To think, if not for this war, I’d be retired by now, probably on my way down south somewhere.”

  “What were you going to do?”

  “I don’t know for sure,” Guthrie said. “I didn’t have any particular plans, just to get away from the army. Oh, I didn’t hate serving or anything like that, but after ten years, I was ready for something different. I guess I got more than I bargained for.”

  “You can say that again,” Kroff said. “Our problem, yours and mine, is we were cursed to live in peaceful times.”

  Guthrie said up straighter. What had Kroff meant by that? He turned a curious glance to the knight.

  “You and me,” the Spear explained, “we are like the rest of the country, meaning Ursia. We got soft. We hadn’t had any real enemies in decades. When was the last war? Not during our lifetimes. It’s one of the reasons we of the Order have been so successful. We’ve had nothing else to do but hunt down wizards and witches. And here you are in the army, bored out of your head for years and years. Then we get slam
med by these Dartague, and it caught all of us by surprise.”

  Guthrie went back to cooking. “You think Zanbra would agree with you?”

  “Probably,” Kroff said with a weak laugh, “though she would likely say it was because of the spread of godlessness and sin or some such.”

  “She does seem to be quite fervent in her beliefs,” Guthrie said as he continued working on their meal.

  “Have you thought about joining?” Kroff asked.

  For a moment, Guthrie did not know what the man meant. He kept cooking the bird, and the meaning of the Spear’s words dawned on him. “I don’t think I’m knightly material.”

  “I thought the same thing twenty years ago,” Kroff said, “but the Order needs all kinds, not just those who will drop to a knee for prayer every five minutes. A little diversity in thought keeps us from being blind sided, though not everyone agrees with me on this.”

  Guthrie could imagine Zanbra’s opinion on the matter. “I didn’t realize one could join the Order. I thought you had to be knighted by a bishop or duke.”

  “You do,” Kroff said, “but you can put in a request. That’s how I got in, in a roundabout fashion. My old man, he put in a request with our local duke. Next thing I knew, I was pulled away to Mas Ober for indoctrination and training.”

  “Pulled away?”

  “I was a grunt, like you,” Kroff said.

  Guthrie glanced to the man again while turning over the chicken. “Where were you stationed?”

  “Little garrison town down on the border with Pursia,” Kroff said with a grin, as if remembering a fond youth. “Just the opposite of this place. Hotter than hell all the time, sand up the crack of your legs each morning when you woke, but the women were the most beautiful I’ve ever laid eyes upon.”

  Guthrie grinned and went back to cooking.

  “You should consider joining the Order,” Kroff said to the sergeant’s back. “I could put a word in with Duke Heggel for you.”