Pixilated (8 page)

Kayseri brought him coffee and a hard flat
oatcake. The aroma warned him the coffee was bitter camp stuff so
far from his preference he almost refused it, and the first sip
lived down to his expectations. Where in the back of hell’s pantry
had Davith found this crap? He turned the hard oatcake over in his
hand, eyeing the thing with disgust. Horse fodder. It looked every
bit as nasty as the coffee.

Kayseri, on the other hand, looked very
tasty, tousled, and heart stopping beautiful. Kree wanted to take
her in his arms, consequences be damned, and make love to her right
there on the canyon floor. He wanted too much, and now that he
acknowledged it, he did not know how he would ever stop wanting.
Lathan’s voice echoed clear in his mind. I want my daughter to be
happy. Kayseri was not for him any more than his first wife had
been. He’d had nothing to offer Molly, and he had even less to
offer an ageless free spirit like Kayseri.

"Did My Captain sleep well?"

"Mmm, just dandy," Kree mumbled around a
mouthful of the dry tasteless oatcake, washing it down with a gulp
of acerbic coffee. Why did she have to be so damn pretty? Shoving
the mug at her, he stalked off grumbling about seeing to the
horses.

"What did I do?"

Behind her, Eldren said, "I do not believe
Captain Fawr is entirely pleased with his present
circumstances."

"I can’t blame him." Kayseri fetched up a
deep sigh. "We tricked him into it."

The prince’s lips twitched in a quick smile.
"I do not speak of that circumstance, my dear." He gave her
shoulder a squeeze then he walked over to help Kree.

As Kree slung the second body across the
horse’s back, he shot Eldren a questioning edgewise glance.

"May I assist you, Captain?"

"Tie off this rope while I get the other
body."

"You are inordinately distressed by the
deaths of these men, Captain. Having seen you fight, I would think
you have killed dozens."

"Hundreds probably, I saw my first action at
fourteen. After the first kill, who keeps track?" Kree grunted as
he hefted the last body across the horse’s back. "I never murdered
anyone until yesterday. I didn’t have to do this, Eldren. I just—I
saw Katie threatened and I lost my temper. It never serves me.
You'd think I'd learn."

The elf’s eyebrows shot up clear to his
hairline. "I do not understand."

Kree gave a curt laugh. "You haven’t seen me
fight. You’ve seen me butcher. In a fight your opponent has some
chance to win."

"These men were armed. They outnumbered you
three to one."

"They were farmers!" Kree winced. He was
doing far too much shouting. If he kept up this level of abuse, he
would have no voice left at all. "They were farmers, elf. They had
probably never held swords before yesterday."

Eldren stepped back from Kree’s lightening
flash of temper and tilted his head to one side. "You said that
last night. Someone hired farmers, you said. How do you know?"

"Because I can see and I can think." Kree
thrust his scarred, calloused hands out for Eldren’s inspection.
"These are a swordsman’s hands, a warrior’s hands. These men," Kree
jerked his head at the bodies, "have calluses too. The sort you get
from pushing plows. They were farmers. It’s a solid fact."

The prince walked around to the other side
of the horses and bent down to inspect one of the dead men’s hands.
"Why would someone send farmers to attack me?"

"You tell me?" Kree tied off the last
body.

"Last night you also said you knew where
Sandahl was. Do you know that the same way you knew these fellows
were farmers?" The new note of respect in Eldren’s voice made Kree
want to smile.

He fought the urge and shook his head. "No.
That’s more in the nature of a hunch." The elf’s hopeful expression
died, and Kree did smile. "Don’t worry, elf. I’ve had some fair
hunches in my time." He flexed his shoulders and twisted his head
from side to side, working out a few more kinks. "I think she was
back in that town. Now? Who knows?"

"I will know." Eldren said this with such
conviction it got Kree's attention. "Sandahl and I are
spirit-bound. It is an ancient rite. Through it, I became Sandahl’s
Vashada. Her slave. I shall serve her until I die. If she dies
before me, I will follow her." The prince pointed north. "Sandahl
is that way. If she is still in that town, I cannot help but
know."

The captain nodded. Elves astonished him. He
disliked them, but they amazed him. He finished with the last knot
and called for Kayseri to mount up.

Chapter Six

As hard as it was for Kree to imagine,
Tarburg looked even shabbier in the crisp morning light. He glanced
across Kayseri at Eldren. The elf shook his head almost
imperceptibly. He did not feel his princess. They moved at a slow
pace toward the tavern in the center of town. News of their coming
ran before them and by the time, they reached the tavern, a small
group of townspeople had gathered on the steps. Kree reined up in
front of the knot of people. No one spoke. After a few minutes,
some of the men came forward and untied the bodies.

"The horses go to their widows." Kree slid
out of his saddle. "I'll only need the one the elf is riding."

The crowd shifted and the helpful stableman
from the previous day stepped forward. "Them’s the squire’s
horses."

"That is not true." Kree gave the man a flat
stare. "They were the squire’s horses. Now they are mine by right
of conquest unless you are challenging me."

"Ah, nah, warrior. They’s yours, right
enough." The stableman’s nervous grin exposed stained broken teeth.
"I see you found yourself the elf and the woman you were asking
after. You’ll be moving on now, I warrant."

"No. I have an urge to speak with the
squire."

The man spread his hands wide in a
what-can-I-say gesture. "The squire is gone. Did the warrior want
the squire, he oughta seen him yesterday."

Kree studied his fingernails. "I'll
wait."

"The warrior might wait a long time."

He tossed a copper lady to one of the
dirt-caked children. "We'll be in the inn. Bring me word when the
squire returns."

Kree tied Sirocco to the hitching post and
crossed the dusty road, keeping to the slow lazy pace experience
taught him looked terrifying in big men. Dismounting quickly,
Kayseri and Eldren hurried after him. He held the door for them to
precede him into the inn, paused in the doorway, and turned back to
face the stableman who had followed them as far as the center of
the road.

He forced enough volume into his soft voice
so it carried to the cluster of folks on the steps. "If you or
anyone else so much as touches one of my horses, I will cut off the
right hand of every man in this sad excuse for a town. Do I make
myself clear?"

The stableman hid his grimy hands behind his
back and nodded vigorously.

Inside, the inn was a pleasant surprise.
Given the town's sorry state, Kree expected sparse accommodations,
a common room where travelers might lay out a pallet or perhaps one
or two private rooms above stairs for the occasional important
guest. Instead, he found a polished oak sign-in desk flanked by a
graceful curving staircase. There was a large common dining room on
the right. Several smaller dining alcoves offered privacy to those
desiring it. He also noticed a sunny sitting room papered in bright
floral wallpaper through an arched opening to his left. The
hand-scraped oak floors, accented by fine Elharan carpets,
testified to Tarburg’s better days. What in the bloody hell
happened to this town?

The balding man behind the desk wore in an
expensive bottle green coat, a bit frayed at the cuffs, true, but
finer than anything Kree had seen so far. A green velvet curtain
behind the innkeeper blocked the view to what were surely the man’s
residence and private entrance. Sweat beaded on the fellow’s shiny
pate. The poor innkeeper was as afraid to cross the trio entering
his establishment, as he was to cross the squire. It was not a
comfortable position. Kree almost felt a sorry for him.

Eldren hurried to overtake him. "You would
cut off their hands."

Cutting his eyes away from the innkeeper,
Kree met Eldren’s near colorless gaze. "I don’t make idle threats."
He chuckled when Eldren blanched; surprised the elf could be paler.
Who would believe it? "But I do play the odds, and I’d say the odds
of having to carry out that threat are about a million to one."

He pushed past the elf prince, headed for
the man behind the desk, but Eldren dogged his steps. "But, you
would?"

The register lay open on a craved swivel
platform. Kree turned it around and wrote on a pristine white page
without looking up. "It’s not going to happen, Eldren, but, yes I
would. I am a monster. You would do well to remember it." He stared
down at the register and muttered, "I could buy this town twice
over for the price of Sirocco alone." He raised his eyes to the
sweating innkeeper. "We'll take a room upstairs overlooking the
road."

"I don’t think I have a vacancy, sir."

Kree spun the register around so the man
could read it and slammed two gold ladies onto the counter with
enough force the innkeeper jumped. "Think again."

The man took one look at his book and mopped
his brow with the towel he had been twisting with his hands. "Oh,
dear," he said, and scooped the coins off the counter. "Follow me,
sir."

The innkeeper showed Kree, Kayseri, and
Prince Eldren to a small suite. As the man took his leave, Kree
asked him to send up tea, biscuits, and a pitcher of ale. When the
innkeeper closed the door, Kayseri clapped her hands like a
delighted child.

"What did you write in his book, My
Captain?"

She is not frightened at all.
Her
confidence in him overrode all thought of personal safety and it
was a heady tonic. Her belief in him was almost as exhilarating as
Goddess nectar. Kree grinned at her. "My name."

Crossing to the window, Kree twitched the
curtain back a fraction so he could watch the street below.
Kayseri’s slender arms slipped around his waist. He felt her cheek
press against his back. Through the roar in his blood, he thought,
why not enjoys this moment. It’s innocent. But he knew why not, so
he gently disengaged himself from her embrace. He led her by the
hand to the window on his right. "Keep your eyes on that end of the
alley, little girl. Elf, you take the other window."

The innkeeper returned with the tray, having
augmented the captain’s order with a wedge of white cheddar and
several slabs of delicious smelling honey-glazed ham. Kree layered
cheese and ham onto a biscuit, and poured himself a mug of brown
ale before returning to his window.

"Do not tell me we are supposed to eat now,"
Eldren said.

People had begun to mill around in front of
the tavern. Kree took a pull on his ale and watched them over the
rim of the mug. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "The
first law of campaigning, Eldren, is eat when you can. The second
is like it, rest when you can. I'd advise both."

Kayseri slipped over to the table and
hurriedly helped herself to biscuits and cheese, before scurrying
back to her post.

Minutes later, Sister Chana joined them
slipping silently into the room. "If you intended to make their
bungholes pucker, you’ve succeeded. If you were looking to make
friends, you need to work on your people skills. Ah, breakfast."
She made her way to the table pulled up a chair and sliced off a
piece of cheese with a small knife.

Kree made a circular beckoning motion with
the hand holding his biscuit, knowing she had more to report.

"You were right, My Captain. A mercenary
with a young girl was here." Chana took a sip of ale to wash down
the cheese. "They stayed right here in this inn and left at sundown
yesterday."

Kree sat down across from her. "And?" He
piled ham onto another biscuit.

"And the mercenary figured out prince
fancy-pants here," Chana tilted her head at Eldren, "was following
him, so he paid the squire to hire some locals to slow Eldren up.
It seems the fellow is meeting his contact somewhere nearby to
deliver the goods, so to speak, and collect his fee."

"Will they give me this mercenary?"

"In a heartbeat. These people don’t have any
loyalty to a here yesterday, gone today mercenary. You, on the
other hand, are very much here today, and you have the power to
visit misery upon them for the foreseeable future. The problem is
they won't give up their squire, and I don’t think they can do one
without the other. Pass me another slice of ham."

Eldren left his task and stared at Kree
unable to believe his pointed ears." If these people know Sandahl’s
whereabouts, you should force them to talk."

A muscle ticked in Kree’s jaw, betraying
anger. "These people are citizens of a territory I am sworn to
protect."

"Fine words coming from a man prepared to
sever hands over a horse only a moment ago."

Kree moved fast. In a blink of an eye, he
was in the elf’s face, jabbing his finger just inches from the
prince’s nose. "Listen to me, elf, because I’m only going to say
this once. I will do whatever it takes to get your princess back,
for her sake not yours. If I have to squeak every one of these
people, I will. I won't like it, but I’ll do it." Kree stalked to
the window. "The thing you don’t understand is I won’t have to. As
you've said, you don't understand human nature. In their effort to
save their squire’s sod-rotted backside, they’ll lead us right to
your princess. Now get the hell over there and watch your end of
the alley."

Prince Eldren moved slowly toward the
window. "Eldren, you and Katie ate all of my rations last night.
This morning you ate most of Sirocco’s rations. Eat something.
That's an order."