Pixilated (11 page)

Kayseri ran to him. "Bright mercy! My
Captain, you're bleeding."

It's what soldiers do.
"Scratch." His
voice sounded funny to his ears, funnier than usual. He tried to
smile. Judging from the alarm on Katie's face, he must have fallen
short. She pried the axe out of his grip. Kree turned his attention
to the princess. "Deep breaths." His speech slurred. The biting
cold rendering his sword arm as good as dead had spread into his
cheek. He pushed himself to his feet and carried the princess to a
watering trough next to the paddock. Seating the elf girl on the
edge, he fumbled a handkerchief out of his pocket with his left
hand, wet it, and covered her nose and mouth. He tried to say "deep
breaths." It sounded like, "Dep befs." His tongue was thick, fuzzy.
He could not form the words. His mouth worked, but nothing came
out. Then, Eldren snatched the girl away.

The captain slumped against the trough, his
lips numb, his tongue choking off his air. His fog-clouded brain
urged him to get the gooey stuff off his skin. He pulled a short
knife out of his arming harness and scraped at his shoulder until
Kayseri knelt beside him and pried the knife from his hand. He
attempted to push her away not wanting her near this ugly magic,
but he couldn’t do anything except blink.

"Let me help you." Kayseri kissed his
forehead."

Dizzy, he had just enough time to think, she
picked me, before he passed out.

Kree heard soft chanting in the darkness. He
did not recognize the words, but the sound called him. He chased
it, struggling to catch the words, and the darkness receded bit by
bit. He opened his eyes to an azure sky. He was lying on the ground
with his head cradled in Kayseri’s lap. Her cheeks were wet. Her
hand rested on his chest. It felt so right Kree brought his left
hand up trapping hers. "Don’t cry," he whispered. "Smile for me,
Katie."

Somewhere close by something burned.

Sister Chana’s face appeared over him.
"Blessed Goddess! He’s coming out of it."

Memory rushed in. Kree tried to rise, made
it as far as his elbows and sank back. He was weak. His tingling
right arm refused to support his weight.

"Chana, get the girls onto Katie’s horse.
We’ve got to get out of here." Again, Kree made to rise, this time
he reached his knees.

Eldren's face came into his field of vision.
"You should have died. It was a vile casting."

On hands and knees, Kree crawled toward his
horse. "Magic never works right on me, but this time it came close.
Whatever you did, I owe you."

"I peeled off his casting." The prince
shuddered, lifted his shoulders. "You should rest until your
strength returns."

"No time to rest. A big fire like this is
bound to draw a crowd, probably not a friendly one, and I couldn’t
fight a kitten right now. I’m not even sure I can run away, but run
is what we’re going to do." Kree reached for his stirrup, tried to
pull himself to his feet, but Sirocco danced away dragging him a
couple of feet before Chana caught the animal’s head. The captain
made another unsuccessful attempt to pull himself up by the
stirrup.

"For Goddess sake, Eldren" Chana shouted.
"Help him mount."

Once he got the captain’s boot in the
stirrup, Eldren used a combination of steadying and pushing to
boost the much bigger human into the saddle.

"Thank you for my life, Eldren."

The elf lifted his thin shoulders again.
"You have your life. I have my princess. We are even."

"Not even close."

Chana came to Kree’s side still holding
Sirocco’s reins. She studied him a minute as he swayed in the
saddle. "Are you going to stick in that saddle?"

Kree leaned forward, resting his upper body
along his horse’s neck, and wrapped his arms around its neck
locking his good hand around his right wrist. "Yeah. I’m good.
Let's move."

Chana nodded. "I’ll take rear guard.
Kayseri, lead My Captain's horse."

They galloped single file. Eldren led them
north toward what Kree considered the Nhurstari Mountain. There was
something wrong with the mountain. It looked...well that was the
problem; Kree could barely look at it. His eyes sort of shied away.
Sparsely wooded rolling foothills rapidly gave way to steeper
going. After the first mile or two, Eldren slowed the pace sparing
the horses. The pine forest thickened, green foliage filtered out
the worse of the oppressive sun beating down upon their heads,
baking the pale skinned elves.

By mid-afternoon Kree had recovered enough
to resume command. His first action was to call a rest beside a
sparkling brook. Kree watered their horses while his exhausted
company collapsed gratefully onto the cool grass. Concerned as he
had been with his own weakness, he took this opportunity to take
stock of his companions. Sister Chana sat with her forearms resting
on her knees, her back propped against a tree trunk grabbing a
little rest like the veteran she was. But his beautiful pixie
flower looked decidedly wilted, and his elves—his elves looked fit
to die on the spot, especially the little princess. Sun blistered
her skin nearly scarlet and baked the life out of her. She lay
against Eldren’s chest as glassy-eyed and lifeless as the stupid
doll clutched in her hand.

Still favoring his right arm, Kree dug out
the bread, cheese, and ham he had saved from the morning and handed
the food to Kayseri. "Share this with Eldren and the princess." It
was little enough to lift their spirits, but it was all he had.

"But what about you and the sister aren't
you hungry?"

"Don’t worry about us." He hoped Katie did
not hear his stomach rumble. "We’ll find a safe place to layover,
and hunt something." He noticed Chana opened her eyes when Kayseri
mentioned her name. Now she closed them again.

Leaving his charges to enjoy their meal,
Kree untied the rain slicker he kept behind his saddle, and cut two
large squares out near the bottom. He brought these, along with his
field kit over to the princess. The elf girl raised listless blue
eyes to him and smiled.

"I have forgotten my manners." Sandahl
tottered to her feet. "Thank you for my freedom Captain Kree Fawr,
Goddess-born Gryphon of Qets Garrison. Thallasi is much in your
debt."

This same regal dignity in Eldren would have
made Kree furious, but in Sandahl, it humbled him. He hunkered down
to her level. "I have ointment that will ease your pain. It does
not smell very good," he gave her a wink, "that's how we know it
works. Will you allow me to touch you?"

She dimpled. It looked painful. "Yes,
please."

Kree scooped a dollop of buttery looking
goop onto his fingertip and dabbed it onto her shiny upturned nose.
She winced. Her breath hissed between her teeth. Kree pulled his
hand away, and glanced at Kayseri. "This business needs a gentler
hand, Katie. Would you–" His words cut off as the princess captured
his large calloused hand between her small soft ones.

"You have not hurt me. Although we have just
met, I do not believe you ever would." She released his hand,
raised her face. "You may continue."

Kree gently dabbed salve across her right
cheek, smoothing it in with quick light strokes.

"Captain Kree Fawr, Goddess-born Gryphon of
Qets Garrison is a great mouthful to say."

Kree gave the princess a crooked smile. "I
suppose it is, but folks don’t call me that most of the time. Just
like your people don’t call you Sandahl Sara el Thallasi, Daughter
heir of the First House, every time they speak to you." She
laughed. It was a lovely sound. Children should laugh. Often. Even
little serious children like this one. "Well, do they?"

"They do not. Your given name is Kree?"
Sandahl caught her lower lip between her teeth as he applied the
salve to her other cheek.

"It is."

"It is an unusual name. Is it dwarfish?"

Kree paused in his ministrations long enough
to tilt his head back and look down his nose at the princess.
Kayseri giggled, but hid her amusement in her hands when his gaze
slid in her direction.

"Kree is my sire’s maternal family name."
Kree's mind drifted to a distant childhood memory. As Goddess-born,
he had no family names, so his sire had given him two. "My papa
thought it a very clever name for his Goddess-born son."

"Then I shall call you Kree, if you do not
think it disrespectful."

"I think it’s just fine." Kree wiped his
fingers on his britches, and settled a makeshift bonnet fashioned
from one the squares of cloth on Sandahl’s silvery-blond head. He
handed Eldren the other square and the ointment. He was about to
leave them to it when the little elf girl caught his hand
again.

"And you must call me Sandahl."

He made a slight bow as he extracted his
hand from hers. "I’ll try to remember that, Princess."

Kayseri watched the captain walk toward the
horses. Sunlight picked up the coppery highlights in his dark red
hair. His movements were awkward and he rubbed his right arm
vigorously as he went. Clearly, he still suffered some effects from
the Nhurstari spell, yet he did not complain. It was so typically
Kree.

He was exhausted. She could tell by the way
his shoulders slumped just a bit, which was not typical. His
posture was never less than perfect, but instead of resting as they
all were, he fiddled with her horse, running his hand over its
hindquarters, talking to it, making little reassuring clucking
noises in his throat. It was foolish to hold on to her dreams. Her
mischief had nearly gotten the man she loved killed. What sort of
love was that? But her dreams were hard to give up. She had loved
Kree for so long and never had he seemed more loveable than now
when he was so tired and hurting. Finally, he sat down in a shady
spot near the edge of the little run, not far from where Sister
Chana leaned against a tree and began working the muscles in his
right arm with his left hand. Kayseri drifted over.

She took his arm between her palms over a
token protest and massaged his biceps. While her fingers worked his
arm, he watched her with a fierce intensity that made her heart
race.

"You were wonderful with Sandahl earlier,"
Kayseri murmured when she could find her voice. "If you aren’t
careful, people will learn the truth about you."

Sister Chana made a noise that sounded like
pifft
. It caused Kree’s half-smile to appear briefly. He
smoothed back an errant lock of Kayseri’s hair letting his hand
linger at the nape of her neck. His tired voice whispered, "What
truth is that, darling?"

Kayseri’s breath caught in her throat. Did
she see desire in his jade-colored gaze? "You’re a soft touch for
any weak thing. The hard-eyed monster you pretend you to be is not
who you are."

"Yes, it is." He winked. "I am the monster
Elhar sends to catch monsters." Kree nimbly touched the fingertips
of his right hand with his right thumb. "I couldn’t do that an hour
ago." His crooked smile appeared. He touched the tip of Kayseri's
nose. "There is nothing weak about Princess Sandahl."

The way his gaze seared her skin made
Kayseri’s stomach flutter. She wished he would not look at her that
way, and she wished he would never stop. "You like Sandahl,"

"Does this surprise you? Being born to duty
and obligation is something I relate to. We're sort of kindred
spirits, the little princess and I."

Kayseri tilted her head and arched one
eyebrow. "But Sandahl is an elf."

"So she is." Kree dropped his hot gaze. His
hand that moments before had warmed her neck, now lay flat on the
ground supporting his weight. He leaned forward. His lips grazed
her temple. "A hit. Acknowledged." He teased.

"And Prince Eldren? Do you like him better
since he saved your life?"

"I expect it benefited his cause a little."
He flashed that grin again. "But I don’t like him less."

Something behind her snagged his attention.
His body tensed. He sprang to his feet dragging Kayseri with him.
"Chana! Eldren! To horse." Kree ran across the clearing and
practically tossed Kayseri onto her mare's back. "Move! We’re about
to have some company."

The elf lord snatched up his princess and
ran for his horse, but the captain plucked Sandahl from Eldren’s
arms, and settled her behind Kayseri. A sharp slap to the mare’s
hump sent the girls away at a gallop. Eldren mounted and rode after
them, his poor beast already falling far behind.

"Chana, stay with my Wilderkin, no matter
what happens. That’s an order. Go! Go!" Kree swung onto Sirocco’s
back. "I'll get a look at what we’re up against, and come right
behind you." The big desert-bred stallion caught Kree's agitation.
It tossed its head, danced impatiently.

The mercenaries crested the crease that had
hidden them from view, a pair of Templemen. Digging his heels into
his horse's flanks, Kree crouched low over the stallion’s neck.
Minutes later, he passed Eldren in a smoky equine blur. Coaxing
every bit of speed he could from Sirocco, Kree came abreast of
Kayseri’s mare. He pushed Kayseri forward so she too rode low over
the horse’s neck. Then he grabbed Mistral’s bridle and veered them
toward the forest. Their horses were nearly spent. Even Sirocco
couldn’t maintain this breakneck pace much longer, and the forest
offered place for his Wilderkin to hide while he and Chana dealt
with their pursuers.

Far to their rear, Eldren screamed.

"Prince Eldren!" Kayseri shouted. Both the
girls sat up in the saddle.

Namar's tears, Kree shoved Kayseri’s face
down against the mare’s neck as Eldren’s rider-less horse shot
past. "Keep down. Keep going." Kree wheeled Sirocco around, Chana
tight on his flank. "Stay with the Wilderkin," he ordered again.
The sister nodded once and moved off after the young ladies.

Kree spied Eldren face down in the tall
grass where the trees thinned out for a short space and spurred
toward him. The prince had taken a crossbow bolt just inches below
his left shoulder blade. Blood bubbled up around the wound. He
struggled to his knees as Kree reached him.