Bastial Frenzy (The Rhythm of Rivalry: Book 4) (14 page)

As Cleve turned and sprinted toward Rek, he heard the creature let out a beastly roar.

“They’re coming!” Cleve warned, jumping onto Nulya’s back. “Make sure you don’t fall!”

They kicked their horses, Rek cursing from the pain in his ankle. Krepps were screaming to each other just behind them. Cleve turned for a glimpse to find some stopping to aim their arrows.

The trees acted as a shield, but then there were more shouts, this time from all around them.

Cleve saw no Krepps. He couldn’t decipher which direction they were coming from.

“They’re swarming the hill!” Rek yelled. “We have to turn north. They couldn’t have come from that direction yet.”

But there was only one way down the hill to the north, and it would lead them right past where Cleve had shot the Slugari. Surely there would be Krepps in their way, possibly even the Slugari himself if the poison hadn’t killed him.

Still, they had to try. They couldn’t run into Krepps with all these trees preventing their horses from reaching the speed they needed to escape. At least in the open they would have a chance.

More arrows struck the trees around them. Krepps that Cleve hadn’t spotted yet were shooting at them from everywhere. But as they turned north, he saw none ahead.

There was a moment of reprieve as they descended the hill in a hurry. The shouts quieted. The arrows stopped.

But at the base, as the trees cleared, hundreds of Krepps were running at them. Those with bows readied their arrows.

“This way!” Rek yelled.

The Krepps were trying to encircle them, but there was space left to the west—not very much, though. Those with bows would have an easy time shooting them if they were skilled enough to hit a moving target as fast as Rek and Cleve’s mounts.

Cleve realized he was hearing shouts of pain from the Slugari he’d shot. But the creature was gurgling, choking. Over the hundreds of Krepps, Cleve caught sight of him. Brown foam was oozing out of his wound and his mouth. The Slugari produced something between a cough and a wheeze. Then he vomited out a pool of black liquid.

The massive creature fell on his side. Cleve heard no other utterings as a pool of foam poured from his body, quickly enveloping him.

An arrow nearly struck Cleve in the face, causing him to duck so quickly he almost fell off Nulya. More arrows. And still more. Cleve had no hope of dodging them. Instead, he focused on riding as fast as he could, stiffening his body in preparation, hoping with all his might not to be hit or at least to stay on his mount if he was.

All the Krepps were behind them now. There was nothing but open land ahead.

But then Rek screamed and fell to the ground hard, rolling as his horse sped on without him. To Cleve’s horror, he noticed an arrow sticking out of the Elf as he tumbled.

Cleve halted Nulya and jumped off.

“Leave me! You’ll be shot as well.” Rek tried to push him away.

“Stop struggling or you’ll get us both killed.”

With arrows flying past them, Cleve put Rek on Nulya as quickly as he could.

“Hold on,” he said, jumping up next and nearly kicking Rek off in the process.

The Elf was groaning, his hands clinging to Cleve’s stomach.

“Where were you hit?”

“My shoulder.” He continued to groan. “Hurts worse than my ankle.”

“Are you able to ride when we catch up to Hope?” Rek’s horse was still rushing wildly forward.

“I’m not sure.”

The Krepps didn’t let up. Arrows continued to soar by.

“Can you use psyche to keep Hope running forward?”

“When we get closer, yes, I think so.”

To Cleve’s dismay, a lucky shot struck Rek’s horse in the leg. Hope screamed and tripped. Immediately, he tried to get up and run, but he fell once more, unable to use the injured leg.

“We have to help him!” Rek yelled.

“What can we do? We have to leave him,” Cleve argued.

“No. Stop your horse or I’ll do it with psyche.”

Rage filled Cleve. “You’re going to get us killed! You’ll do no such thing. Hope’s gone. There’s nothing we can do.”

In a moment, they would pass by the fallen horse. Cleve tightened his grip on Nulya’s reins, unsure what Rek would do. An arrow flew between Nulya and Hope. The poor horse was still trying to stand, grunting and whinnying.

“Shoot him.” Rek’s voice wavered. “Kill him mercifully.” He took Cleve’s bow from his back and handed it to him.

Cleve knew to shoot the horse in the heart. Silvie had taught him where it was. He drew his string and shot as they passed. Hope’s struggles ceased instantly.

“I’m taking you back to Bencer. The chemist there can help.”

“Did you at least kill the Slugari?”

Cleve looked back at where he’d shot the disgusting creature. There was a mound of brown foam.

“Yes.”

Chapter 12:

CLEVE

As Cleve neared the area where he expected Bencer and his men to be, his eyes were drawn to motion—one of the archers on a hill waving both arms.

“Rek?” The Elf’s grip on Cleve’s stomach was loose, and he’d been silent. “We’ll be there soon. Will you be alright?”

“Yes. Most of the pain is from losing Hope.”

But then Nulya slowed to a trot and Cleve could feel Rek bounce into his back. Rek sucked in air through his teeth and groaned.

“Maybe it’s about equal,” he corrected himself.

The other men had joined the archer on the hill. Cleve wasn’t able to hear them, but from their faces, it was clear none of them expected to see Cleve and Rek again. He spotted the chemist among them and pushed Nulya to ride hard just a little longer. He looked over his shoulder, but the Krepps were no longer in view.

“Where’s the other horse?” Bencer asked.

“Shot down,” Cleve answered.

One man gawked and pointed at Rek. “He’s got an arrow sticking out of him!”

“Were you followed?” Bencer was alarmed.

“They stopped chasing us a while back, but they might send some Krepps this way. I’m sorry.” Cleve got off his mount and started helping Rek down. “Careful with his ankle.” Other men came to assist Cleve.

Rek groaned as they practically dragged him to their covered underground hideout.

“Get some blankets and water,” Evon ordered. “Lay him on his stomach. We need to start a fire.”

“How bad is my ankle?” Rek asked.

Evon carefully lifted up his pants. Rek’s ankle was already discolored and swollen, looking as if something foreign had burrowed inside.

“Bad,” Evon said. “But it’s not life-threatening…unlike the arrow in your shoulder. I’m going to cut open your coat and shirt. I need to see how deep it is.”

“I don’t have any spare clothing,” the Elf complained.

Cleve refrained from hitting him. “Just let the chemist work.”

Evon used a small blade to slice open the fabric.

“Wait, the poison.” Rek moaned and turned on his side, reaching in his coat pocket to remove it along with the lathering brush. “Don’t want this breaking.”

“What happened?” Bencer asked as Evon continued to work.

“It was impossible,” Cleve said. “We couldn’t get near the encampment without being seen and alerting every Krepp near the wall. So we decided to go after the other Slugari, the one leading the Krepps back from Kyrro.”

“I see they spotted you.” Bencer spoke with utter disappointment.

“Yes, but only after we killed the Slugari.”

Bencer shouted and clasped Cleve’s shoulder. “You did it?”

“Yes, he’s dead. But we lost Rek’s horse and…well, you can see what else happened. There were hundreds of archers.”

“The arrow isn’t that deep,” Evon said. “I can see the base of the arrowhead. It’s best if we remove it.”

Cleve let out a massive breath of relief. But he was surprised when he found that no one else seemed to share the same feeling.

“Cleve, this is still a very bad injury,” Evon explained. “I don’t have what I need to treat him here. I’ll do what I can, but he needs to get to Kyrro City. The chemists there can help if he makes it in time.”

“What do you mean if?”

Everyone was silent.

Rek, still on his stomach, turned his head. “It’s going to be four days of hard riding before we reach Kyrro City. Might even be longer with both of us on Nulya’s back.”

Evon took over. “I can clean and cover the wound after I remove the arrow, but that’s about it.”

Anger filled Cleve’s chest. “This is what Welson wanted when he sent us here! You didn’t need to come, Rek, yet he sent you anyway. He wants us dead, but he can’t kill us openly!”

“Lower your voice,” Bencer said. “I know your friend is injured, but you will not slander the King’s name here. Do you understand? Stop or leave right now.”

Each man stiffened and grasped his weapon, ready to draw it if needed.

“Cleve,” Rek muttered. “Welson sent us here because he trusts our skill, and look—we were successful. You were in the Academy during the attack. Didn’t you see what the Slugari was capable of?”

Cleve hadn’t seen any of the fireballs himself, but he’d heard the stories. “I suppose. But that doesn’t change how I feel about Welson.”

“Then keep it to yourself,” Bencer warned. “We haven’t heard anything that needs to be reported yet.” He leaned in close so Cleve could feel his breath on his face. “But if we hear anything else slanderous, I’ll be obligated by law to inform the King. Do you understand?”

They don’t believe me,
he realized.
Not a word I said.

“Fine.”

“Give the Elf whiskey,” Evon said. “Drink up, Rek. This is going to hurt.”

Rek muttered something and turned to his side. Someone handed him a flask. He took a few gulps and stopped to groan. He drank more and then made a disgusted face, handing the flask back.

Cleve could smell the alcohol on Rek’s breath as he crouched over him.

“There are two things we need to worry about,” Evon said, “infection and blood loss. We’ve seen the arrowheads these Krepps use. They’re serrated, impossible to remove without tearing you up on the way out. Even worse, the wood of the shaft is fused to the arrowhead with beeswax instead of glue. So if I pull on the shaft, the wood will come loose and the arrowhead will stay in your shoulder. We have a clamp here in case any of us gets shot, but I’m still going to have to cut you open before—”

“My Bastial stars, I don’t want to hear all this,” Rek interrupted. “Just do it.”

“Is there anything else you can give him for the pain?” Cleve asked.

“We’re out of many supplies,” Bencer answered. “We’ve been out here for weeks. And there are no plants around here that are useful.”

“That’s why this is going to be dangerous,” Evon said. “I don’t have anything to help him fight against infection. I’ll cauterize the wound. As soon as he can ride, take him to Kyrro City. The chemists there will know what to do.”

The thought crossed Cleve’s mind that Welson had prohibited him from entering Kyrro City, but he didn’t care. If that’s where Rek needed to go, then that’s where he would take him.

“When will he be able to ride?” Cleve asked.

“Maybe tomorrow, maybe two days,” Evon said. “He’ll need rest.”

“Just to ride a horse?” More than one day seemed unnecessary.

“Let’s see how this goes first, Cleve,” Rek said, his tone foreboding.

“Cleve, come up the hill and show me where you shot the Slugari,” Bencer requested.

He trusted Evon enough to leave Rek with him. When they were out of earshot, Bencer frowned and looked over as if he were about to scold Cleve.

“Have you ever met someone who’d been shot with an arrow?”

“No,” Cleve admitted.

“There’ve been plenty since this war began. This is a very serious procedure. But there’s a lot you can do during your trip back. Change and clean his bandage. Keep him warm. Let him use your coat. He’ll need more food and water than you will. Make him eat, even if he’s not hungry. Watch for blisters or the skin changing color, also if he can’t move his arm or the swelling gets worse.”

“And if any of those things happen?”

“Then the wound is getting infected and needs to be cleaned. That’s really all you can do. Hurry to Kyrro City as quickly as you can. He’s going to need medicine.”

“How am I supposed to clean the wound without soap?”

“We’ll give you some. Just make sure to only use water that’s been boiled.” Bencer sighed as he turned and looked out toward the ocean. “We lost someone. He was shot in the leg as we ambushed a group of Krepps. The arrow went through his calf. We all thought he was lucky that his bone hadn’t been hit, but it turned out he wasn’t lucky after all. For two days he seemed to be getting better, but then something must’ve gotten into the wound. His leg got infected. He lasted another couple days, but it just kept getting worse. We didn’t have a horse like you do. There was no way of getting him to Kyrro. At least you can do that.”