Hunt of the Bandham (The Bowl of Souls: Book Three) (46 page)

“Are you going to eat that raw?” Hamford asked.

“Raw?” Kenn laughed. It was a haunting, evil sound. He bit into the haunch and steam poured from his lips. Grease rolled down his chin and caught fire on his red-skinned chest. The smell of cooking pork filled the air. He chewed a couple times and swallowed. “Nothing I eat is raw anymore.”

Ewzad giggled. He pulled the rest of the carcass over and dropped it in front of Talon. “Here you are, sweet-sweet thing. Your wounds were even greater. I can’t have you starve, no-no I can’t. Be good, now.”

The wizard snapped his fingers and she dropped to the ground atop the half-pig. Talon whipped her head around, her eyes taking in the room. A hiss escaped her lips. Arcon and Hamford took a few steps back in alarm, but she simply tore into the pig rending it into pieces and occasionally tossing flesh into her mouth.

Ewzad gave her a loving smile. Arcon did not want to take his eyes off of Talon, afraid that the creature would not find the pig to be enough. He backed further away, making sure that Hamford was between the creature and himself.

Kenn had already demolished the one haunch and was tearing into the other. Flaming grease pooled on the floor around him. Arcon had missed dinner waiting for Kenn to return with the wizard’s prize. The smell of fried pork would normally have made Arcon’s stomach growl, but the sight of the two creatures’ gorging just made him nauseous.

“
Steel your stomach, my Arcon. You are no child. Ewzad Vriil stages this feast in part to frighten you,”
his mistress purred.

Ewzad tapped his foot. “Finish up, Kenn. I don’t want you to lose that beautiful beast, no-no I don’t.”

Kenn swallowed. “Then I will leave, Master.”

“Before you go, head down to my dungeon and pick out a few of my sweet new babies to take with you. Whichever ones you like. This must be done quickly, yes? I do not want you to have as much trouble with this prize as you did with Talon. Hamford will show you the way.”

“Of course, Master.” Kenn continued to eat as he followed his brother to one of Ewzad’s secret passageways, leaving a trail of flaming oil in his wake.

“He has the beast take two more with him? The fool! The Fool! The ignorant fool. He weakens our force even more with his little distractions!”
His mistress’ anger was so intense that Arcon’s vision blurred. He felt his nose begin to bleed as it sometimes did when she was in a rage. This often happened around the wizard. He hoped that there would not be permanent damage.

Ewzad scowled. “Enough of your prattle, woman! Silence yourself or I will punish you again! Yes I will!”

Arcon could feel his mistress glower, but she must have remained silent because Ewzad smirked with satisfaction. Arcon’s nose bled again, but it was worth it. Ewzad was the only person alive except perhaps the Dark Prophet himself that could do his mistress harm. Arcon heard her squeals of pain and outrage whenever this happened. But any pleasure he took from her punishments was shoved back to that safe little corner of his mind to be enjoyed later.

“Still, you are right. Yes indeed,” Ewzad said. “It is indeed time. Unleash our hordes. Yes-yes, tell my army to begin. Tell them Envakfeer says close the noose. Close it! It is time we started our conquest. Yes. The Dark Voice shall be pleased.”

“Finally.”
Arcon felt her satisfaction in his mind and her presence lessened as she spread her focus out amongst her contacts in their army.

“Yes-yes, of course you are pleased. The army goes and plays while I have to sit here and pretend to be the loyal protector. Pff! Necessity-necessity. Always necessity. Elise had better give me that heir soon,” Ewzad mumbled and padded over to Talon. The creature had finished her play and was now simply devouring the bits of flesh she had torn from the carcass.

“Now you, my little beauty . . .” he crooned, petting her scaled head. Talon chirped and nuzzled his hand. All traces of her former rage towards the wizard were gone. “It doesn’t do to have you defeated. No-no. We have some improvements to make, don’t you think?”

Jhonate sat on the lowest pine bough perfectly balanced, her legs folded beneath her and her arms folded in front of her. Her eyes were closed as she breathed in the crisp air of the mountain winter. The cold pressed against her, bit at her face, and tried to invade her padded armor, but Jhonate was not chilled. She felt all, observed all, but her thoughts were turned inward. Inside her mind, a small figure prepared for battle.

There was a stirring at the edge of her thoughts. She heard the light crunch of the snow as someone walked closer. One of her comrades was approaching. It was that blond mage. Jhonate could smell the sweet flower water the girl brushed into her hair every morning. Jhonate was beginning to hate the smell of flowers.

Ever since the journey started, Faldon had insisted that she stay near Vannya and Wizard Locksher while the rest of the group did the real work. She had protested, but Faldon told her it was because she was their best fighter and he needed her to protect the magic users in case of attack. That was his excuse, but she knew the real reason. Though Faldon left it unsaid, it was Jhonate’s job to make sure that the other students left the girl alone. She supposed that it was necessary. The girl was a distraction. When she was around, the intelligence of the other students dropped below trainee level. Jhonate had been forced to send each of the male students away at least once, Jobar several times. Vannya was no help. She flirted away any time the men came near.

It shouldn’t have been so bad protecting the two. The wizard Locksher himself was pleasant to be around. He was highly intelligent and even somewhat knowledgeable about her people. But the girl was insufferable. She was so frail and dainty, constantly complaining about the hardy mountain bugs, the cold, the lack of showers, and her feet. Oh how Jhonate was tired of hearing about her poor little mage feet. Vannya would not have lasted a day in the wilds around Jhonate’s home. She itched to be away from the girl, but above all else, Jhonate itched to be part of the action.

“What are you doing?” came Vannya’s puzzled voice.

“I am training,” she replied.

“Look’s more like sleeping,” Vannya remarked.

Jhonate kept her mind quiet and calm as a hawk waiting to strike, letting the irritating woman’s words flow past her without effect. She said mildly, “That would explain my dreams of you slipping and falling on that face of yours.”

“Why, I-!” She heard the mage stomp her little foot. “And what did I say to deserve that?”

Though she could not see it, Jhonate could sense the dropped jaw on the girl’s little face. Only her vigilant training kept her mouth from curling into a smile. What did the girl expect? She had fired the first volley.

“Did I offend you?” Jhonate asked.

“Yes indeed!”

“Then move along, child, and leave me to my training.”

“Child?” Vannya said. The sheer outrage in her voice nearly caused Jhonate to lose her composure again. Instead, she kept her eyes closed and breathed steady. Vannya on the other hand could not hold her feelings in check. “How much older than me are you? A year? Maybe?”

“Vannya, come, leave the daughter of Xedrion alone,” Wizard Locksher said from several yards away. “Can’t you see that she is training?”

Vannya huffed and sputtered a bit before saying, “No wonder Sir Edge had such a hard time with you as a trainer. Two weeks merely sharing a tent and I am ready to pull my hair out. I can’t imagine a year.” The girl then stomped away to join her master.

Jhonate’s brow furrowed a bit at the mention of Justan, but just slightly. She was quite proud of herself. She had not let the girl distract her. She was still as calm as the cold mountain air around her. She hadn’t even reached for her staff. There had been times during the last two weeks she had let the girl rile her up. Luckily for Vannya, Faldon had commanded her not to strike the girl.

Vannya seemed to resent the time that Jhonate had spent training Justan. She always brought him up in conversation, bragging about the time they defeated the orc captain, going on and on about the way Justan single handedly destroyed a giant golem that attacked the
Mage
School
. Then she would bring out this letter that Justan had written her. Vannya never read it aloud, but often commented on how dear their friendship had been, and how Justan had said that he was looking forward to seeing her again.

It hadn’t bothered Jhonate, of course. Justan may not have written her such a letter, by why should he? It was not as if a trainee should keep in constant contact with his trainer. Besides, she did not need a letter to know his esteem for her. After all, he had given her a parting gift, a plain silver ring with a thin line of gold around the edge. The ring didn’t look to be all that valuable, but Faldon had told her that it was a precious family heirloom. Wearing it made her feel close to Justan and in an odd way protected, which was ridiculous because she . . . With a start, she realized that she was twisting the ring on her finger again. Jhonate fumed at her lack of concentration. She needed more training.

“Is something bothering you, daughter of Xedrion?” Poz, son of Weld asked. He and Jobar Da Org had just returned from scouting the road to Jack’s Rest and the two men were on their way to talk to Faldon the Fierce.

“No,” she said. Her thoughts were calm and collected. “I am merely preparing for the battles ahead.”

“Then why do you look like you just bit into a lemon?” asked Jobar.

Her eyes flashed open and she reached for her staff. Faldon had given no commands about striking her fellow students. She hit the ground, soft as a cat and Jobar was already running. Fleeing was a futile gesture.

A short time later she received a short message on her message stone. Faldon wanted everyone assembled. Locksher, Vannya, and Poz were already there when Jhonate and her fellow students, Qenzic and Jobar arrived, the latter grumbling about the new knot on his head.

“So,” Faldon said. “Poz has reported signs of battle all along the road to Jack’s Rest. The interesting thing is it’s all been cleaned up. No bodies or broken weapons. He found a large burn pile just off the road not too far ahead where all the corpses have been tossed.”

“If the battle’s been cleaned up, doesn’t it mean that there are at least some villagers left alive?” Qenzic asked. “The goblinoid army hasn’t exactly been cleaning up after itself in the other locations we’ve seen.”

Jhonate hoped he was right. The first week of their journey into the mountains they had traveled from village to village to warn the people. Most of them already knew of the goblinoid army from the refugees who had been trickling in for weeks. The villages had been reinforcing their defenses, but once they learned that the Dremald solders were being recalled, leaving academy patrols sparse, villagers streamed out of the mountains in droves. Reneul was going to have a lot of new mouths to feed.

 Once they had reached the higher elevations, signs of the goblinoid army were everywhere. They hadn’t run into any enemy forces, but Faldon’s group had encountered multiple empty villages and homesteads that had been razed to the ground. The invaders had left corpses and destruction in their wake. Unfortunately, their orders did not allow for them to take time to bury the dead.

“Qenzic has a point,” Locksher said, but the wizard had an eyebrow raised, an expression that Jhonate had come to know meant that the wizard found something interesting. “These goblinoids are uncivilized to be sure, but large sprawling armies like the one we have been following have to clean up after themselves to a certain extent if only to avoid diseases. This is especially true if it is a major route for their supply lines. Poz, did you get close enough to see what was in the burn pile?”

“No, sir. It was right next to the main road and too exposed. I did not want to risk being seen.” Poz didn’t mention that he hadn’t thought to do so, but the reddening of the cheeks on his freckled face told the story. Jhonate would have checked it out if she had been the one scouting ahead. Such attention to detail was important to their mission.

Locksher didn’t chastise the student. The wizard never did. He left that to Faldon, which was one of the reasons that the academy students respected him. Locksher simply turned to Faldon and said, “If possible, I would like to check out this burn pile before we continue to Jack’s Rest. It may help us know what we’ll be facing.”

Faldon nodded.  The veteran leader had been relying more and more on the wizard’s advice as the journey went. It would have irritated Jhonate, but the man had not steered them wrong. “Jobar, Qenzic, and I will scout ahead and make sure the road is clear of enemies. Once we signal, Poz and Jhonate will take Wizard Locksher and Mage Vannya to the burn pile.”