Progeny (The Children of the White Lions) (77 page)

When the two Sentinels were done, Sergeant Trell would step aside and motion for Nikalys to try, and then move on to give lessons to Jak and Zecus. Nikalys would stand, draw his white sword, and execute every move against Wil without flaw. The exhibition had become the centerpiece of each evening with every soldier standing in a wide circle, watching Nikalys in awe.

Pulling her arms from around his waist, she patted him on the back and said, “You’re good, Nikalys. But having fifty more soldiers around isn’t going to hurt.”

He nodded, still eyeing the new arrivals.

“It will unless we can find a way to hide them in plain sight.”

Sabine sighed heavily.

“True.”

It was a well-known, thoroughly discussed issue facing the group. The area of the Southlands through which they were going to travel in the next few days was heavily populated. According to Broedi, small villages and countless farms dotted the area between Fernsford Bridge and Fernsford itself. Even more waited south of the city. Expecting a hundred Red Sentinels might pass through unnoticed was a fool’s hope.

The two groups of soldiers approached each other, dismounted, and began to mill about, happily greeting one another, the new men eying Sabine’s small group with restrained curiosity. Sergeant Trell quickly ordered the men to gather and began to talk, explaining the situation. At a certain point, he called Nundle forward, and the little tomble began to tell his story.

Sabine sighed. This was going to take a while.

Unable to do much more than sit on a horse and wait, she let her eye wander. Near the back of the group of the assembled Sentinels, she spied the black-haired Tracker speaking to another man dressed in similar gray clothes and cloak.

“Look,” she whispered. “The other Tracker.”

His voice solemn, Nikalys muttered, “Don’t worry. I saw him.”

There had been some discussion as well about what to do about Cero, the Tracker already with them. Nundle did not trust the man and was not shy about sharing his opinion. Sergeant Trell argued for giving the man a chance, insisting that he had a feeling about him. Once Broedi weighed in and agreed with Sergeant Trell, the matter seemed mostly settled.

Sabine had kept an eye on Cero as they had moved east and noted some very odd behavior from the man. On more than one occasion, she caught him mumbling to himself while caressing the handle of his beltknife. Sometimes, he would hold the blade before his face and stare for moments on end. Then, with a vicious shake of his head, he would shove the knife back into its sheathed while muttering to himself. In Sabine’s opinion, the man was mad.

When Nundle completed his tale, Broedi stepped forward to speak next, explaining both who he was and the true story of the White Lions. As expected, most of the new arrivals stared at the giant with disbelieving eyes.

“This should be fun,” whispered Nikalys. “Watch their faces.” The darker mood from before was gone. If fact, he almost sounded like an excited child.

“I know, Nikalys,” said Sabine, grinning slightly. “I was there last night, if you remember.”

She had been sitting with everyone last evening when the planning for this meeting was underway. Sergeant Trell would tell the men his tale, along with Nundle. Broedi was to reveal himself as a White Lion, followed by Nikalys showing the soldiers what he had been able to learn with the sword. Kenders had wanted to put on a show as well, but Broedi forbade her from doing anything, insisting she had too much work she needed to do in order to control her power.

Suddenly, Broedi’s form began to twist and flow, shifting from the shape of the tall, strong man into that of the towering, golden bear. A stunned whisper slipped from Sabine’s lips.

“My gods…”

Even though she had seen the beast before, she had never seen the transformation. In the fort, she had been too busy consoling Helene.

Once the shift was complete, Broedi stood on his hind legs, his thick golden-brown fur hanging from him, and let out a tremendous roar. The soldiers, even the ones who had already seen the bear, took a few, wide-eyed steps back. Horses whinnied, pulling at their reins as soldiers held tight.

Sounding a bit perturbed, Nikalys muttered, “I thought we decided lynx last night.”

“You know, you could go tell him you’re disappointed with his choice if you’d like.”

Nikalys glanced back and smiled.

“That’s quite all right. I’m trying not to make a habit of arguing with giant bears.”

She returned his grin with one of her own.

Last night, in the middle of the long and—in her opinion—pointless debate as to what animal form Broedi should take, Sabine had excused herself. Her experience with men was limited, but already she decided they liked to talk more than was necessary.

Broedi returned to his normal, giant self and stood before the soldiers, his arms crossed. While the new arrivals stared in shocked silence, the soldiers who had already seen the bear smiled wide at their friends’ awe, poking their elbows in the stunned soldiers’ sides. Sergeant Trell turned and looked back to Nikalys and Sabine and motioned with his head.

“My turn,” said Nikalys with a low chuckle.

Sabine scooted back, preparing to dismount from the back of Goshen.

“Would you like me to hop—” She stopped upon realizing that she was alone atop the tan horse. Nikalys was standing next to Broedi with his shining, white sword in hand. Her heart racing, Sabine muttered to herself, “Blast it, Nik.”

From the reaction of Broedi, Nundle, and the sergeant, it was apparent they had not expected Nikalys to move like that either.

Sergeant Trell called out for four men from the new arrivals to step forward to challenge Nikalys. Urged on by the Sentinels who knew Nikalys’ capabilities, four soldiers stepped forward, swords drawn, and arranged themselves in a line, preparing to face him one at a time. When Sergeant Trell ordered for them to all attack Nikalys at once, the new arrivals hesitated. The soldiers who had traveled with Nikalys for days grinned in anticipation.

The four men surrounded Nikalys and began to probe at his defenses. As Sabine expected, Nikalys had little trouble with them, moving from opponent to opponent in the blink of an eye. One moment he was facing one man, the next, he was parrying a blow from the soldier behind him. The sound of steel on steel rang throughout the area, pinging and clanging with frequency of a hard rain pelting the earth.

After Sergeant Trell called for a halt to the display, he gave an impassioned speech about the danger rising in the west, the evil gods of the Cabal and demons leading armies of Sudashian oligurts, mongrels, and razorfiends. By the time he was done, Sabine herself was ready to leap from the saddle and charge headlong into a line of demon-led oligurts. He then gave them the same option the soldiers already accompanying them had. Leave now and go home, or stay and help fight.

The men dispersed, talking among themselves, weighing their options. Sabine kept an eye on the new Tracker, most interested by what his reaction would be. The two gray-clad men stood alone with their heads together, whispering quietly. Cero repeatedly pointed downriver in the direction they had been traveling while the other man shook his head and pointed to the northwest.

“Nik overdid it a bit, don’t you think?”

So engrossed in the Trackers’ distant argument, Sabine had not noticed Kenders ride up beside her. Looking at her friend—still with Helene in her lap—she nodded and said, “Your brother can be a bit of show-off at times.”

“Jak’s worse,” said Kenders. She was quiet a moment before looking over, a sly grin spreading over her face. “Some girls like that.”

Without hesitation, Sabine said, “And some like exotic men from faraway lands.” She eyed her friend. “What say you about that?”

Sabine had felt the eyes of many of the younger Red Sentinels over recent days. From their evening chats, she knew Kenders had experienced the same. Yet Kenders ignored every one of their appreciative gazes, and—on more than one occasion—Sabine had caught her eyeing the young Borderlander from the fort.

Kenders stared at Sabine through narrowed eyes and murmured good-naturedly, “Quiet, you.” She stuck her tongue out.

Smiling, Sabine returned the gesture.

From Kenders’ lap, Helene piped up, saying, “Sabine! You said it’s not polite to stick out our tongues!” Her tone contained a type of righteous admonishment that can only come from a child when catching an adult’s mistake.

“You’re right, dear. I’m sorry. I should not have done that. It was rude of me.”

Clearly pleased with herself, Helene looked up at Kenders and smiled, just missing Kenders pulling her own tongue back into her mouth.

Looking down, Kenders said, “Well done, Helene. It’s very nice of you to help your sister with her manners.”

Sabine rolled her eyes and looked away, chuckling to herself. Off to the side of the Sentinels, she spotted Jak and Zecus together. The pair had dismounted and were practicing their sword work. While neither man had Nikalys’ unnatural proclivity for the sword, both had been working hard at learning the more traditional way. Sabine found herself eyeing Jak as he swung the sword in slow, exaggerated movements, attempting to get the form right before speeding up to a respectable pace.

Watching the pair practice, she asked aloud, “So what now? Once the new Sentinels make up their mind, that is?”

“I don’t think we have an answer yet,” said Kenders. “We could try to ford the river here. Broedi says he knows a way to make the surface of the water hard—neat, huh?—but he’s hesitant to do so. He says it takes more effort than he would like to exert. His control over Water is not very extensive.”

“What about Nundle?”

“He can’t touch Strands of Water at all.” Frowning, she added, “And I’ve been ‘forbidden’ to try.”

Sabine sighed and said, “I can make the water clear and cool. But only a little at a time.”

Kenders flashed a grin.

“We’ll keep that in mind if we get thirsty.”

Sabine smiled back, but her mirth was forced. She found herself surrounded with people of tremendous talents and power and she was left being quite normal. Even Helene showed promise, according to Broedi.

After a short while, Broedi, Nikalys, and Nundle came walking through the grass toward them, grim expressions on all three of their faces.

Sabine muttered, “They don’t look very happy, do they?”

“No, they don’t,” said Kenders. As the trio neared the girls’ horses, she raised her voice and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Broedi rumbled, “We have another problem, uora
.
”

Sabine shook her head.

“Wondrous. What now?”

As the three of them stopped, Nundle stared up from under the wide brim of his hat and said, “The second bunch of Sentinels have some information that’s going to make things difficult for us.”

“More than they already are?” asked Kenders.

“Yes, uora,” rumbled Broedi. “Quite a bit more.”

Letting out a weary sigh, Sabine asked, “What’s the new problem?”

Nodding his head back in the direction of the soldiers, Nikalys said, “It seems that some Southern Arms did not take kindly to a large contingent of Red Sentinels in the Southlands. A ‘Corporal Holb’ from the new arrivals said that the morning after they set up camp on the northern side of the river, they awoke to find the southern shore lined with blue and gold. Just over a hundred Southern Arms were waiting for them, watching.”

“What?” asked Kenders “Do they fear an invasion by fifty men?”

“Doubtful,” replied Broedi. “I would assume they are merely curious. It is beyond unusual for the soldiers of one duchy cross into another. In fact, it is against agreed-upon law.”

“Did they attack?” asked Sabine.

“Thankfully, no,” rumbled the hillman. “They had the sense to simply watch. And wait.”

“So, now what?” asked Kenders. “I’m thinking they won’t let us cross when we show up with more Sentinels.”

Lifting a single eyebrow, Nundle said cryptically, “They might not, assuming they were still there.”

“They’re not there now?” asked Kenders.

Nundle shook his head.

Confused, Sabine stared at the tomble and asked, “So then what’s the problem?”

Nikalys let out a heavy sigh before saying, “The soldiers aren’t there anymore because they followed Corporal Holb’s Sentinels. They trailed them here.”

“Are they going to attack now?” asked Kenders.

“Nathan doesn’t think so,” said Nundle. It had taken Sabine a few times hearing the tomble call the sergeant by his first name before she realized that Sergeant Trell and Nathan were the same person.

“Neither do I,” rumbled Broedi.

Kenders, with a hint of frustration creeping into her voice, asked, “Can we go around them?”

Shaking his head, Nikalys said, “They’ll see us try.”

“What if we go right away?” suggested Sabine. “Head north first, then east? Go around them.”

Broedi pointed to the southeastern horizon.

“No, uora.
They
will see us try.”

Sabine looked up and stared in the direction he indicated, but did not see much besides the natural greens and browns of grass and trees. A few patches of wild flowers—oranges, blues and yellows—that broke up the earth tones.

Confused, she started to ask, “What are you—?”

She stopped when some of the flowers on the horizon moved, and not gracefully as if teased by the wind. Looking closer, she realized that a few men on horses were waiting in one of the patches of wildflowers.

“Oh.”

Nikalys shook his head and sighed.

“You have to wonder what they’re thinking now, seeing the Sentinels double in size.”

Sabine continued staring at the Southlands soldiers, frowning.

“They didn’t ask why they Sentinels were here?”

“They did,” said Nikalys. “But Sergeant Trell had given Corporal Holb strict orders to say that they were here on ‘official business for the duke’ and nothing more.” He frowned. “Apparently, that did not satisfy the Southern Arms.”

Sabine sighed. For a group trying to be inconspicuous, they seemed to be attracting an awful lot of attention as of late.