Stormrider (32 page)

We will be near, Stormrider.
Strongheart made the simple promise as they separated.

“Be careful,” Stormrider admonished both Strongheart and Littlefoot. “Jarrel and the Dinh Dinh are deadly. They’ve already taken One Eye. I could not stand to lose you and Littlefoot as well. Beware the small box such as Raptor took from them for it is what killed One Eye.”

We hear and understand.

Silvercat stared in awe at the conversation obviously transpiring between the star-lit woman with the hair the color of low-burning fire and the wolves. It was a very rare thing among The People to be closely associated with one of the Chosen—one who was bonded to the animals. And, for one to be so honored to be a woman filled Silvercat with pride.

“You heard what she said to Strongheart and Littlefoot,” Raptor said to Starwalker. “You’re a bigger target, so it goes double for you.”

I hear you Sachem. but I will be near as they will.

Raptor grunted his acceptance.

They all went their separate ways, the wolves and pony fading almost soundlessly into the night.

Chapter 26

The voices were not muffled and they weren’t kept particularly low. In fact, part of the exchange seemed a bit strident. Plainly Jarrel and those of the Dinh Dinh who had accompanied him believed they had no reason to worry about being overheard.

Perhaps for the most part the Imperitor and his followers were right.

The People understood none of the technologies or even the existence of such as Jarrel and his ilk. Fliers were a terrible culture shock, the laser weapons even worse. For the moment The People were subdued, quiet whether in huts or herded together in the meeting hall. And, guards were posted. No reason for secrecy or cautious words.

No reason except the presence of Stormrider and Raptor. They had spotted the guards easily with assistance from the two wolves. Moving on cat feet, Stormrider in her moccasins, Raptor still wearing soft-soled boots, they slipped between the neatly constructed huts, stopping outside that of Blue Thunder.

Stormrider could almost feel the closeness of The Amulet, its life-force throbbing through the dirt beneath her feet. It had to be where Silvercat said it would be. And if it was there, then Blue Thunder was still alive because Jarrel had not yet found it.

“—if our men hadn’t stupidly allowed that bounty hunter to get his hands on one of the laser guns we would have had that girl back here now! You should have stayed until you had recaptured her!” Jarrel’s voice, strident, angry.

A gruffer voice, lower, almost whining. “But Imperitor, we lost four fliers out there! It seems impossible, but he did it. He knew all the fliers’ weak spots. If we had remained longer we could have lost them all. What if he had aimed for the one which picked you up?”

“We must return to Antaris—with The Amulet of The Suonetar—and it must be soon! The Circle of Nine and the High Cudan are holding power despite the ferment you and your people created. But I am Imperitor. Once I have the Amulet they will be able to deny me nothing.” His voice mellowed. “The people of Antaris call for me. I am next in line of succession and once I possess The Amulet they’ll embrace me as they did my beloved father.”

Stormrider cringed at the accuracy of Jarrel’s appraisal and the sarcastic tone of his voice when he mentioned his father. That good man did not deserve the Hela-spawn his son had turned out to be. Worse, Jarrel’s evaluation was accurate. His arrival back in Antaris along with the Amulet might well put an end to the bloodshed for the moment, but it would plunge all of Antaris and, if the Dinh Dinh had their way, most of the alliance into slavery followed by bloody revolt.

“The Amulet cannot be far, but our men have searched all the huts and the entire camp. Nothing has been found,” the subservient voice informed Jarrel.

“Then search it again! And when the courier arrives with the serum to drag the secrets from this man’s mind, bring him to me immediately. This has taken long enough! I want the golden torque about my throat, the Amulet resting against my flesh!”

Smoothly, coolly, the second voice apparently taking some umbrage at the barrage directed his way. “As do we all, Imperitor.”

Stormrider smiled faintly into the darkness. Discord was not unwelcome. She caught a glimpse of Jarrel through the doorway.
 

“Then do something about it! If the Dinh Dinh had not provided such idiots as to allow the Amulet to be taken from us when we first arrived on Nashira none of this would now be happening. And tell that miserable
Jaiqi
, Maven, I expect him to track Tanith Aesir down and eliminate her. Tell him we ran into her at the edge of the Dragonback mists so the fool will know where to look for her!”

“Right away, Imperitor. Shall I warn him about the bounty hunter—the laser weapon he now has?”

“No,” Jarrel snapped back bitterly. “Let that much be a surprise. A little something in return for what that piece of dung caused in costing me Kiribati.”

“Not very considerate of his allies,” Raptor mouthed the words to Stormrider’s ear, barely a breath of sound. “I’m going to find one of their communicators.” Stormrider barely had time to understand, then Raptor was gone.

Strange, but she felt very much alone without him by her side. She also felt something she did not care to. Concern for Raptor, cursed bounty hunter that he was. She brushed the feeling aside. Worry was divisive. It stole the attention from that which it should be fixed upon and brought risk to them all.

He is as skilled as you yourself
. Strongheart, feeling her thoughts and reaching out to touch her.
We will watch out for him.

Humbly, the pack bond stronger than ever, Stormrider replied simply,
thank you.

Stormrider edged her way closer to the hut’s door, mindful of how visible she would be in her creamy leathers if caught in the light cast by the coming moonrise. She had only a few minutes more. She watched as Jarrel’s man left the hut, then cast her eyes down upon the shadowed entry, staring hard at the square of earth beneath which Silvercat had said the Amulet lay buried.

What she expected to see she was not sure, but what she did see was the distinctive discoloration of the dirt. It was like a reddish splotch on the ground. Subtle, but distinctive to the eye aware that it was searching for something unique.

Crouching beside the hut, pressing against the branches of the cut brush as if trying to meld with it, Stormrider hesitated, deliberating, trying to decide her course of action. A dead Jarrel would be a pleasure. A satisfaction. A much needed revenge. For a moment, at One Eye’s death, she would have allowed it, welcomed it, but in the cold light of logic and responsibility, Stormrider knew a live Jarrel with his confession, along with The Amulet would be much needed evidence to condemn him. He would face a sentence of death or spend a great many years in confinement and his sister, Caridwyn, would take the throne. She was a strong woman, one who could present the truth, unite the divided factions of their world, and move forward. It was something to look forward to.
 

Something Stormrider would not risk losing. She could easily surprise Jarrel now, but there was nothing to prevent him from pulling his invisible act again if she did. The device he had utilized was an implant. Difficult to block.

Oh Hela take The Circle of Nine and the High Cudan! If they had told her what she was fighting from the start. If they had told her more than her simple mission of retrieving the errant Amulet, she would have been more prepared. She would not have been surprised by the alliance between Jarrel and the Dinh Dinh. She would not have come to Nashira believing the theft of The Amulet had been a Dinh Dinh plot to seize power and Nashira merely their temporary refuge. If . . . If . . . If . . . .

“The issues are many and complex,” the voice spoke in her head, but felt as if it were issuing from a person standing close beside her.

Instinctively, Stormrider spun around and came face to face with the image of Hart crouched behind her close to the hut of Blue Thunder. It was an image, of that much she was sure. He was not really there, yet the faintly shimmering image was the same as the last time she saw him on the beach with the exception of the boots he now wore upon his feet while among the Kadlu his feet had been bare.

“Hart . . .” Stormrider spoke the name in a whisper though his sudden appearance had nearly startled a shout from her.

“Don’t speak aloud. I can hear your thoughts,” Hart confided, smiling. “You see The Amulet?”

Stormrider nodded, her attention divided now between the flattened doorway and Hart of the Disir.

“You’re here,” Stormrider mentally threw the accusation at him. “Yet you do nothing. Why?”

“There is nothing I can do. I am a projection of myself, an image.”

“Then why are you here? Now? How did you know we were here?”

“You had sufficient time and I had to know which you would choose, the Amulet or Blue Thunder,” he said nodding in the direction of the hut’s entry as Jarrel exited with long, angry strides.

Stormrider, more than a little angry at the awkward intrusion, glared at Hart. “I choose both.”

And Hart was gone.

Without a backward glance she moved swiftly to the place where The Amulet lay buried using the knife from her moccasin top to dig in the packed ground. The deeper she dug, the paler the soil became until metal clinked distinctively against metal, knife-tip piercing leather pouch.

The sweet honey of triumph flooded her veins as her hand closed around the softly glowing pouch, amber light exuding from it in all directions. A brilliant, slender ray of reddish-gold pierced the thick leather pouch from the inside where the knife blade had opened a path. She pushed the dirt back in place, darker now, then she ducked inside the hut.

This was her victory. To come back from the dead with The Amulet of the Suonetar would create a story the Janissaries would tell for generations. The Amulet, returned. It was almost giddying, but for Stormrider there was more.

There was Blue Thunder lying unconscious on the mat.

That he had been badly beaten was obvious. Crude tactics for ones so advanced as the Dinh Dinh and their serums and technologies, but to be expected if he had been defiant and Jarrel had lashed out in anger. If she could get him out was a question not yet answered. She sobered instantly, her moment of exultation fading.

She stared down at Blue Thunder. Putting aside the Amulet would do no good in helping her to carry him out. But, leaving him would allow her to escape with the Amulet. She could not take the entire camp full of people from this place, but neither could she leave Blue Thunder. His daughter’s face, her trust, haunted her.

Stormrider opened the pouch and dumped the Amulet, smoothly joined to Torque into her open palm. It glowed brightly. Rose and gold. Flame and sunlight. A thing of power; bestowing power. What it bestowed was limited only by The Amulet itself according to the Disir. Then she understood. The Amulet was the only way she would be able to help Blue Thunder. The only way she could help these people. Her people.
If
The Amulet accepted.

Rejection brought with it a terrible price. She did not think about how terrible. She did not know what form it would take.

She stared at The Amulet a moment, dangling it between fingers, gold strangely warm against her palm, marveling at the heat which burned from within, the flawless configuration of rampant dragon design, and the unparalleled beauty of the winking, blood red stone cupped in the metal, held firm by no obvious means. She did not consider the risk she took.

She placed the torque about her own throat. At some deeper level she wanted to assure the Amulet she was not one seeking the power to rule vast lands. She did not seek to dominate. She sought only the power to help one man; the man who had kept it safe, cradled it in the womb it sought. To free one people; the people who venerated the god-stone.

The skin of her throat tingled. Warmth. Prickling. a strange feeling of acceptance. Tolerance. Little more.

Then the strength came flooding up from the ground through the soles of her feet into her body in a wild rush, like she was but a conduit between Nashira and the amulet. The Torque glowed soft and molten, hugging her slender throat as if it had been made for her alone, yet knew it for the illusion that it was. The Amulet pressed tightly against bare flesh.

It gripped gently. An embrace.

Stormrider drew a deep breath and knew in that moment she could pick Blue Thunder up from his mat, tuck him comfortably under one arm and leave the camp. She had what she’d requested of it. And she knew The Amulet sought another. Felt that certainty within it; experienced the barely contained power.

Born of Nashira it had grown over the many long years, central to the seat of power of Antaris. Returned to Nashira it was awesome. The Ancient Ones had not exaggerated. This was where The Amulet belonged.

She understood, in that instant, that her life had been filled with hesitation though she had appeared outwardly confident and strong. There was none of that now. No pretense, not even to herself. With ease she plucked Blue Thunder from the mat and stepped out the hut’s door.

Right into Jarrel, his pet Dinh Dinh soldiers, Raptor, Song Dog and Silvercat.