Fireblood (Whispers from Mirrowen) (10 page)

There it was. The barb, the derision—the withering contempt. It was just as he had expected. He had provoked her the day before, and she was holding a grudge.

He gave her an inconsequential shrug, a slight twitch to his left shoulder. “I have no doubts about your killing ability. The poison in your tongue alone would be suitable if we required
talking
someone to death.”

Annon raised his eyebrows, and a smile broadened his face.

Paedrin wasn’t finished. “But should we face something particularly lethal, I am certain your looks would stop it dead in its tracks. I feel so much safer being with you.”

There it was in response, just as he suspected. She was sensitive about her looks. Best to poke there first. She could not control the sudden blush of heat in her cheeks, though her expression did not change. He had insulted her. How would she respond?

“The Vaettir I have known have always been gentlemen,” she replied in a silky voice. “But you share only a portion of their blood, by the look of you. Perhaps you are more Aeduan than me?”

Paedrin kept his face impassive. She fought to draw blood; that much was certain. He attacked her beauty. She attacked his heritage.
Not easily flustered. Good. It was more fun that way.

“I did not know the Romani were welcome in Silvandom,” he answered. “Where else could you have met enough Vaettir to form such an opinion?”

“Indeed,” she replied cryptically. She looked at Annon crossly. “We are wasting daylight. This journey should take a fortnight.”

Annon looked amused. “I will not be sorry to leave Kenatos behind. I never liked it here. To Havenrook then.”

Paedrin nodded, his eyes never leaving Hettie’s. There were daggers in those eyes.

By the end of the day, they had crossed leagues of abandoned farmland and reached the fringe of the mountain forests of Alkire. Hawks swooped and soared overhead, and Paedrin longed to join them. He was tempted to suck in his breath and float upward, but he was saving that grace to impress Annon and Hettie later. His sandals dangled from the fabric belt. Walking the cobblestone streets of Kenatos had raised calluses on his feet, and the soft earth and prairie grasses were velvety in comparison. He was amazed at the various forms of life throughout the land—dazzling butterflies zigzagging in the air, curious rodents peeping from holes and gawking at them, and the buzz and drone of bees in their hives. Each was a fascination to Paedrin. The air was crisp and fresh, so different than the soot-filled skies over Kenatos. It was also so very quiet compared to Kenatos—unnervingly so. The huff of their breath as they walked, the chuff of Annon’s and Hettie’s boots. The constant murmur and roar of the city was long gone. Its absence was noticeable.

They set up camp within the shelter of the woods, Annon and Hettie both working side by side to put up a ring of stones and gather brushwood for a fire. Paedrin was at a loss for what to do, so he separated from them slightly and began practicing some of the complex forms he had learned in the Bhikhu temple. He did Five Animals and Five Elements along with Snapping Crane. Each was a series of intricate moves, which, if broken down into the parts, could be used to fight or subdue one man or many men. It was like a dance. A dangerous dance.

The crackle of flames alerted him that the fire was starting to take. He turned and saw Hettie was gone. Annon fed chips of wood into the growing fire.

“Where did she go?”

The Druidecht looked up from the fire, glanced around, and then continued the motion. “There is a warren of rabbits back the way we came. She is going to kill one for dinner.”

Paedrin’s stomach twisted. “I do not eat meat.”

Annon shrugged. “I noticed some mushrooms and gathered them. There are also different forms of bark, depending on how hungry you are.”

“I brought my own food,” Paedrin said. “Shouldn’t we be going with her?”

Annon looked up at him, curious. “Whatever for?”

“Your uncle wanted me to protect her.”

“From wild rabbits?”

“I do not know these woods,” Paedrin said, glancing around warily.

“Nothing will approach us unaware, Paedrin. I’ve seen to that already.”

“What do you mean? This is a forest. Any form of creature may be lurking here.”

“We share these woods with many kinds of creatures. Not just rabbits and foxes. They know we are here and have granted us safe passage. Should anything threaten us, we will be warned first. As I said, we have no need to worry.”

Paedrin looked at him quizzically. “What you say makes no sense to me. I have been with you the entire time. What agreement could you have made?”

Annon smiled. “It is Druidecht, my friend. Just trust me. We will be safe here.”

Paedrin was skeptical, but he did not let it show. He crouched down by the budding flames and waved his hand over the flicking tongues. “I know we go to Havenrook, but I know very little else. Can you tell me more about our journey?”

“There is no reason not to tell you. My sister is Romani and desires to buy her freedom. When she turns eighteen, she will be sold again. We seek a man named Erasmus in Havenrook who knows where a treasure is hidden. We must persuade him to help us find it.”

Paedrin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “This man—Erasmus—knows of a treasure. If he knows of it, why has he not claimed it for himself?”

Annon stared down at the fire and then up at Paedrin. “Only a Paracelsus can open the door to where the treasure is hidden. My uncle has given me knowledge that will open it. I expect Erasmus will desire a portion of the treasure as his reward for leading us to it. My aim is to negotiate the terms in our favor.”

“Ah,” Paedrin said. “You are skilled at negotiations then.”

Annon shook his head. “I know very little about that craft. But the Druidecht are known for being the peacemakers within the kingdoms. I will merely help Hettie be sure the arrangement is fair.”

Paedrin opened his food sack and rummaged through it for something to eat. “You have not been to Havenrook then either?”

Annon shook his head. “No. I was raised in the woods surrounding Wayland. What do you know about it?”

“I am surprised that your uncle is sending you to negotiate. Havenrook is the home of the Preachán. They are the shrewdest dealers throughout all the kingdoms. Remember the sort that tried to wheedle my staff from me when we were leaving? They wanted the charm around your neck. They always look for a gain with little effort. Personally, I despise them. They are dishonest
and cruel. I am not certain they serve some use in this world other than generating copious amount of excrement. They are cunning and ruthless, which again surprises me why your uncle is sending us all into their trading city. I have heard there are no laws in that city. None at all.”

Annon rubbed his mouth. “I did not know that.”

Paedrin shrugged and tossed a decayed leaf into the hungry flames. “Your uncle did.”

Hettie emerged from the woods, holding a dead rabbit by the ears. He flinched inside, seeing the dead thing gripped in her hand. It was a big one.

“Do you want to help me skin it, Paedrin?” she asked in a mocking tone.

“I do not eat meat,” he said, his stomach churning with disgust.

“Feeling squeamish?” she asked, dangling the rabbit over him.

He could almost feel its fur against his cheek and resisted the urge to swat it away. Though he was a bit unnerved by the dead thing hovering near his face, he would never admit it. “No, I am merely annoyed by your smell. I had hoped that you would bathe before returning. Mint leaves help remove the stink, you know.”

Her eyes narrowed slowly, but she did not stop her attack. “Isn’t there some sort of prayer you Vaettir say over dead things?”

“I would be happy to teach you our prayers. Some piety would benefit you.”

Paedrin saw Annon stifling a chuckle. Wisely, he kept poking the fire with a stick.

“I did make sure it was dead before I brought it,” she said, lifting the rabbit slightly. “I wrung its neck, of course. I did not want you to have to see that.”

“It does not shock me at all that you would do that with those hands.”

She turned toward the fire, but the pelt brushed against his cheek. Again, he nearly jumped away and swatted it, but he knew she was looking for that reaction. He kept himself perfectly still. And he watched, moment to moment, as she gutted the beast, impaled it on a spit, and then cooked it over the fire. She glanced at him several times, looking for a reaction. He smiled at her and ate some day-old rice with his fingers.

Later that night, as Annon and Hettie slept, Paedrin lay awake, staring at the flickering coals of the fire. He was restless, anxious for the dawn to come. He was sick to his stomach at what he had seen Hettie do to the rabbit. It violated every ethic of the Bhikhu order. Part of him wanted to scream at her, but he would never give in to her taunts.

He stared at her form, the crumpled blanket covering her shoulder. Dark hair fanned over the cloak, which she had stuffed beneath her head as a pillow. Her back was to him, deliberately, and he watched the rise and fall of her breathing. Annon faced him, his eyes closed, his expression pained by his dreams. Paedrin stared at him for a moment, realizing how young they all were. A Druidecht, a Romani, and a Bhikhu on a journey to Havenrook to seek Erasmus. Something was impossibly wrong. There were details that Annon had offered which concerned him. There was much that concerned him.

He would not forget the sly look in Hettie’s eyes as she mutilated the rabbit in front of him—and that he did not flinch while she did it. It was a look that said she was impressed by him. He was not sure if he even cared anymore.

“When the kingdoms banded together to create Kenatos, they minted new coins and forged common laws that all could agree to abide. While Kenatos has not authority over any other kingdom, its laws are inviolate within the city itself and the Bhikhu mete out the Arch-Rike’s justice. For, you see, in the absence of justice, what is sovereignty but organized robbery?”

– Possidius Adeodat, Archivist of Kenatos

W
aken, Druidecht! The Fear Liath comes!

It was just before midnight, and Annon awoke to whispers in his mind, his heart surging with terror. He blinked awake rapidly, sitting up, and listened to the chittering voices in his mind. A spirit of great power and danger stalked the woods, sending panic rippling through the denizens of Mirrowen. The tiny spirits whispered its name—the
Fear Liath
. It typically hunted high in the mountain passes of Alkire, but it had sensed intruders in its lair and was hunting them.