Get Her Back (Demontech) (14 page)

      Tabib was fleeter of foot than he’d shown before now, and quickly closed the distance to the fleeing Gobernari Konde. When he was close enough, he drew the last Phoenix egg from his wrap, cocked it, and threw it at the fleeing beast.

      The egg landed a few feet in front of the survivor and cracked open. The Phoenix rose out of the egg, unfurling its flaming wings. The monster ran straight into it. The Phoenix was stuck on the huge manlike beast, one of its wings trapped under an arm, flames melting its fur, and the melting fur adhered to the Phoenix’s feathers. Screaming piteously, the creature fell forward, pinning the Phoenix under its body.

      The Phoenix cawed, but its struggles quickly weakened and ceased. It continued to burn for a time, roasting the under-part of the monster that held it down.

     Deitua warriors ran among the women and children, seeking their own. Women and children likewise ran about, seeking  children or parents, husbands, brothers, fathers. Many of them, far too many of them, didn’t find who they were looking for. Not even the bodies—there was no trace of the ones who’d been eaten.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

      Great Chief Nagusi, with Itzuli at his side, approached Haft.  Nagusi’s hands were empty and spread, as were his translator’s, to show that they were unarmed. Alyline and Tabib stood next to Haft.

      “You killed the Gobernari Konde,” Nagusi said. “You came to our aid and you killed the Gobernari Konde. Even though we had just  attacked you.”

      Alyline poked Haft in the ribs when he didn’t immediately  respond.

      Haft shot her a quick glare, then turned his fierce visage on the chief. “We didn’t go to your aid,” he snarled. “We went to save  the women and children those things were killing.”

      “And you killed all four of the Gobernari Konde!” Nagusi said. Itzuli didn’t need to translate the awe in Nagusi’s voice. “No one has done that before. Even Deitua warriors run from the Gobernari Konde.”

      Tabib was almost jumping in excitement. “Those monsters, they were really Gobernari Kondes, really for true?” he squealed. “I had thought, as did all peoples, that they were only legends, not really real creatures! This is so very much too exciting. I must gather samples from the Gobernari Konde to show to other magicians, or they won’t believe me when I tell them of this.”

      “Go,” Alyline snapped at him. He scampered off.

      Haft looked to where bodies were being gathered, Deitua here, Bloody Axes and Royal Lancers there, from both battlefields, where they had fought each other and where they’d fought the monsters. “Only some of your warriors were here,” he observed.

      Nagusi nodded. “We thought you would be much easier to defeat than you are,” he admitted. “Even then, I thought the two hundred I brought were far more than were needed to kill all of you.” He looked at the growing gathering of bodies and saw that there were many more of his own being stacked than of Haft’s. “I was wrong,” he said softly. “You are indeed great warriors, worthy of the respect of the Deitua clan, and all the other clans of the High Desert.”

      “Why did you have your women and children here?” Alyline  demanded.

      Nagusi gave her a bland look. “After the battle, they were going to go through the battlefield to make sure that all of you were dead. Then they would strip you of all of your belongings so that we could have them.”

      “Even our clothes?” Haft asked.

      “All of your belongings. Everything,” Itzuli said without bothering to translate Haft’s question.

      “What would you have done with our bodies?”

      Nagusi shrugged and looked away when Itzuli translated the question. His answer was murmured: “There are many scavengers on the desert. They would have fed well on you.”

      “You intended to kill us, strip us, and leave our bodies for the scavengers,” Haft said coldly. His right hand tightened on the grip of his axe.

      Nagusi didn’t blanch at the clear threat. Instead, he stood tall, with his chest out and his head held high. He looked as though he half expected to be killed now.

      Haft thought the chief of the Deitua wanted to be martyred, or to have his shame at losing this battle to lowlanders washed from his soul by his blood.

      Haft wasn’t going to give Nagusi what he wanted. “We are going to gather our dead and our wounded,” he said, “and we are going to leave your land as soon as our wounded can travel. If you try to stop us, or to hinder us in any way, we will kill every one of you who  attacks us. And then we will come back with more of
our
warriors and kill everyone in your clan. Do you understand?”

      Nagusi lowered his head and let his chest sink. He looked at the Deitua dead, and whispered something that Itzuli didn’t translate. It was easy enough for Haft to guess that Nagusi had whispered: “There are too many dead.”

      Then the Chief looked at Haft and spoke clearly for Itzuli to translate. “Go. We will do nothing to hinder you. You have earned the right to leave unmolested.” He turned and marched away,  leaving others to tend to the dead and the wounded.

      Haft stood looking at the lines of dead Bloody Axes and Royal Lancers. Alyline stood next to him, her arms folded over her belly, as though holding it in. A quarter of the soldiers who’d climbed onto the plateau of the High Desert were dead. A similar number were wounded and being tended by Tabib. It would be a couple of days  before all of them were fit enough to be moved toward the coastal plain and return to the caravan.

      “So many dead and wounded,” Haft said softly. “All because,” he turned his head to look at her, “you thought your musician might be here. If you hadn’t run away to come here, all of these men would  be alive and uninjured today.”

      Alyline flinched as though slapped. She bent over her folded arms and dry heaved. After a moment when nothing came up, she wiped a wrist at her mouth and stood up.

      “You don’t know, you don’t understand what her musician means to a Djerwolh dancer,” she said. “Or her to him.” She looked at Haft, her expression seeking, although he couldn’t tell whether the seeking was for understanding or forgiveness.

      “I was ready to die if I had to,” she continued. “I didn’t ask the Royal Lancers to come with me, they chose to.”

      “You didn’t have to ask them,” he said. “You know the Royal Lancers will always go where you go, they will do their best to  protect you, even if it means they will all die.”

      She looked again at the corpses and nodded. “I know.” Her  whisper was almost inaudible. Then more loudly, “I must visit the wounded. See how they are doing, thank them for what they did. Urge them to get well.”

      The Golden Girl spun on her heel and marched off.

      “You’re going the wrong way,” Haft murmured. “The wounded are in the other direction.” He left the dead to find Balta and Guma, to plan how they were going to transport their wounded back to the caravan—and to decide what they were going to do with their dead.

      The Golden Girl was subdued during the return trip across the wasteland of the High Desert. She stayed near the wounded Royal Lancers, not saying much, but most of what she did say she said to the men who had gone onto the plateau with her. The journey,  to everybody’s relief, was uneventful.

      “I think they’re watching out for us, making sure nobody comes to attack,” Haft said on the first day of movement back to the coast when Balta pointed out four riders on the horizon, one to each  cardinal point.

      “So you believe Nagusi when he said he won’t bother us any more?” Guma asked.

      Haft nodded. “I saw his face when he made that promise,” he said.” He was upset about how many of his warriors we killed. He didn’t want to lose any more.”

      “Don’t forget that he lost a lot of warriors and others to those monsters,” Balta said.

      Haft nodded again. “Yeah, he did. And
we
, not his warriors, are the ones who killed the Gobernari Konde. He’s got enough respect for us now that he’s probably afraid. Anyway, yes, I believe he won’t do anything to us. I suspect those outriders are there to warn off anybody else who might threaten us.”

      Guma grunted, not fully convinced. After all, he’d been a  prisoner of the Deitua, been hung up by them to die of exposure. He had a different view of the nomads than Haft did.

      Haft may have been right about Nagusi’s intent. Certainly, they weren’t attacked or even challenged by the Deitua or anybody else along the way.

      They reached the edge of the plateau in the late morning of the fourth day. It took most of the rest of the day to lower the wounded to the coastal plain. Haft didn’t think it would serve any benefit for them to continue moving during the hour or two they had left  before they’d have to stop to set up a camp, so they pitched camp right where they were. Besides, it would do the wounded more good to get a couple of hours of extra rest than to close the gap by that much. By now the caravan was eight days ahead of them. Even with the wounded, they would be able to go fast enough to reach the train in six days, or even sooner. Small groups always move faster than large groups.

      On the fourth night, the Golden Girl approached Tomitrik, the musician who she’d ignored ever since she got him his freedom, and said one word.

      “Play.” When he began to play his sothar she walked away, into the shadows where nobody could see her.

      She had him play again the next night, and again disappeared when he began. The following morning, neither Haft nor anyone else commented on her red eyes.

      “Halt! Who goes there?” a voice called out in Skraggish.

      “It’s Haft. Who are you expecting?” Haft called back, peering into the trees ahead of his band.

      “Is it really you, Lord Haft?” the voice said excitedly. A man in the beaded deer hides of the Skragland Outer Guards stepped into the open.

      “It’s really me,” Haft said, and heeled his mare into a trot to reach the rear guard.

     “Sergeant of the guard!” the sentry shouted. A short distance away someone repeated the call. Moments later, just after  Haft reached the sentry who’d challenged him, a man with the  pips of a sergeant on his deer hide tabard came through the  trees.

      “Lord Haft!” the newcomer shouted, and broke into a sprint. He skidded to a halt two paces in front of Haft and saluted, right fist over his heart. “Welcome back, Sir. I’m Sergeant Bortonor.” He turned to the sentry and snapped, “Orszem, find Lord Spinner. Tell him Lord Haft has returned.”

      “Yes, Sergeant,” the sentry now identified as Orszem replied. He turned and ran deeper into the trees.

      “Is everybody with you?” Bortonor asked Haft as soon as his  messenger left.

      “All who are alive,” Haft said.

      Bortonor nodded, understanding that Haft meant they’d lost men killed, and was not surprised by the losses.

      “Lord Haft!” Lieutenant Eber, the commander of the Outer Guards arrived. “Welcome back, Sir.” He looked past Haft at the people behind him and at his sides. “I see Lady Alyline has returned with you. And most of the Bloody Axes and Royal Lancers.” A long-time soldier, Eber understood that men get killed when they go in harm’s way. This was not the time to dwell on the casualties. “I will escort you to the heart of our bivouac.” He saluted the litter cases and the wounded who were well enough to ride horses. “The clinic is along the way. Our healers are well set up to take care of your wounded.”

      The command group, lacking only Silent who was still off on a reconnaissance with Wolf, was seated in a circle in front of the elaborate tent that Spinner shared with Haft. They’d just finished their evening repast—a routine route-meal for most, a sumptuous feast for the few who’d rejoined the caravan just a couple of hours earlier.

      Nightbird, the healing witch from Bostia who was in charge of the healers and the daily clinic, arrived from overseeing the tending of the wounded Bloody Axes and Royal Lancers who’d been given over to her care on their return from the High Desert. Although she wasn’t normally a member of the command group, she served  herself some stew and bread from the trestle table that was set to the side, and settled into the circle.

      “Spinner,” she said between bites, “you picked a good one when you sent Tabib to join Haft. When I look at the injuries on the men in the clinic, I can only be impressed at how well their healing is coming along. They’ll be able to return to duty fairly soon. And the men who have already healed from their injuries, well, Tabib did an excellent job on them as well.”