forward on her mount’s neck and rode without looking back. The flapping spiritbane tugged at her belt.
Degarius looked back. Kieran was right behind him. The Gherians had come out of the tunnel. Miss Nazar and the packhorse were ahead, racing toward a rickety plank that crossed an eroded streambed. For all love, didn’t she see it?
As her horse began the leap, an unbidden image filled the space behind Degarius eyes.
His little group of Frontiersmen were racing from the Gherians who had discovered their confrontation with the creature in Lake Sandela. They were trapped between two pursuing groups and a gully. He shouted for them to cross. Nat, being sentimental, had brought along Micah’s horse. “Leave her!” Degarius yelled, but it was too late. They started the jump. They went up, over. They’d cleared the gully. Nat’s horse hit hard, throwing him forward. Micah’s horse pulled, rolling Nat to the side of his mount. He clung to his horse’s neck. But then the horse and rider became one dark tumbling shadow that haunted the air with the eerie joined cries of boy and beast. Ginger, Micah’s horse, veered off from them and disappeared into the close horizon of night.
And Degarius couldn’t go back for Nat’s body.
Miss Nazar’s horse jumped the creek. It would have been a beautiful thing to watch...but for the packhorse.
She dropped the tether! What a damned fine rider she was. The packhorse landed, and then kept running with Miss Nazar’s horse.
Degarius cleared the creek and heard Kieran come over after him, but suddenly the hoofbeats ceased. Kieran had stopped, wheeled his horse around, and was aiming an arrow at the redcoats. Was the fool trying to get himself killed?
The brother let loose an arrow and nocked another as the first arrow hit the front-riding soldier in the shoulder. The second arrow hit the farther back horse in the chest. It stumbled and went down on its knees, throwing the rider. More arrows, with time to be expertly aimed, left Kieran’s bow and found their marks. Then, the brother stowed his bow, but didn’t turn and ride. What in all hell was he doing? Was he dismounting?
“Kieran!”
At Degarius’s shouting, Arvana stopped. She caught the packhorse’s tether and led him to Kieran who was slowly sliding from his horse. When his feet touched the ground, he crumbled to his knees. Clinging to a stirrup with one hand, his other fumbled with the spiritbane. “It wasn’t like taking a deer. Not like it. I killed two men. Maker, how can you forgive me?”
Degarius grasped him under the arm. “You were doing your job. If you love the Maker, get up and ride. Wipe your damn bloody hands on me, if you want. I’ve killed a hundred men. What are two more?”
Kieran leered at Degarius, but his whole body hardened, and he rose and began to remount.
For a moment, Arvana felt everything she once had for Degarius. He meant what he’d said to Kieran. He bore the ugly trials of this world so others wouldn’t have to. A monk, who’d chosen a peaceful life, shouldn’t have been called upon to kill. It was why the superior told Degarius about the girl birthing the draeden. She knew his conscience wouldn’t abide it.
Her heart went out to Kieran, too. His anger at Degarius had temporarily replaced his grief. It wouldn’t last long, though. As well-intentioned as Degarius was, it was impossible to simply wipe the blood from one’s hands. She clucked to her horse to move and opened her hands from the reins. They had the blood of Chane Lerouge and a hundred Solacians upon them. The Maker had a special grace for Degarius and Kieran. There wouldn’t be one for her. The blood was there by her own mistakes, not out of duty or a sense of justice...until she faced the Gherians. Not that one blood could cleanse the other.
LIFE AND DEATH
Cumberland, six days later
W hile riding, Degarius slipped a knuckle under his glasses and rubbed the sleep from his eye. What he’d give for a cup
Degarius looked back. Kieran was right behind him. The Gherians had come out of the tunnel. Miss Nazar and the packhorse were ahead, racing toward a rickety plank that crossed an eroded streambed. For all love, didn’t she see it?
As her horse began the leap, an unbidden image filled the space behind Degarius eyes.
His little group of Frontiersmen were racing from the Gherians who had discovered their confrontation with the creature in Lake Sandela. They were trapped between two pursuing groups and a gully. He shouted for them to cross. Nat, being sentimental, had brought along Micah’s horse. “Leave her!” Degarius yelled, but it was too late. They started the jump. They went up, over. They’d cleared the gully. Nat’s horse hit hard, throwing him forward. Micah’s horse pulled, rolling Nat to the side of his mount. He clung to his horse’s neck. But then the horse and rider became one dark tumbling shadow that haunted the air with the eerie joined cries of boy and beast. Ginger, Micah’s horse, veered off from them and disappeared into the close horizon of night.
And Degarius couldn’t go back for Nat’s body.
Miss Nazar’s horse jumped the creek. It would have been a beautiful thing to watch...but for the packhorse.
She dropped the tether! What a damned fine rider she was. The packhorse landed, and then kept running with Miss Nazar’s horse.
Degarius cleared the creek and heard Kieran come over after him, but suddenly the hoofbeats ceased. Kieran had stopped, wheeled his horse around, and was aiming an arrow at the redcoats. Was the fool trying to get himself killed?
The brother let loose an arrow and nocked another as the first arrow hit the front-riding soldier in the shoulder. The second arrow hit the farther back horse in the chest. It stumbled and went down on its knees, throwing the rider. More arrows, with time to be expertly aimed, left Kieran’s bow and found their marks. Then, the brother stowed his bow, but didn’t turn and ride. What in all hell was he doing? Was he dismounting?
“Kieran!”
At Degarius’s shouting, Arvana stopped. She caught the packhorse’s tether and led him to Kieran who was slowly sliding from his horse. When his feet touched the ground, he crumbled to his knees. Clinging to a stirrup with one hand, his other fumbled with the spiritbane. “It wasn’t like taking a deer. Not like it. I killed two men. Maker, how can you forgive me?”
Degarius grasped him under the arm. “You were doing your job. If you love the Maker, get up and ride. Wipe your damn bloody hands on me, if you want. I’ve killed a hundred men. What are two more?”
Kieran leered at Degarius, but his whole body hardened, and he rose and began to remount.
For a moment, Arvana felt everything she once had for Degarius. He meant what he’d said to Kieran. He bore the ugly trials of this world so others wouldn’t have to. A monk, who’d chosen a peaceful life, shouldn’t have been called upon to kill. It was why the superior told Degarius about the girl birthing the draeden. She knew his conscience wouldn’t abide it.
Her heart went out to Kieran, too. His anger at Degarius had temporarily replaced his grief. It wouldn’t last long, though. As well-intentioned as Degarius was, it was impossible to simply wipe the blood from one’s hands. She clucked to her horse to move and opened her hands from the reins. They had the blood of Chane Lerouge and a hundred Solacians upon them. The Maker had a special grace for Degarius and Kieran. There wouldn’t be one for her. The blood was there by her own mistakes, not out of duty or a sense of justice...until she faced the Gherians. Not that one blood could cleanse the other.
LIFE AND DEATH
Cumberland, six days later
W hile riding, Degarius slipped a knuckle under his glasses and rubbed the sleep from his eye. What he’d give for a cup
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