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justariderKarigan received her answer later that afternoon. The day dragged along
until The Horse froze in his tracks, his ears laid flat. He sidestepped
nervously and patches of sweat darkened his neck and flanks. Torne
hauled on the reins as if he could forcibly drag The Horse down the road.
When The Horse stayed anchored to his spot, Torne cursed and threatened
him.
"He senses something ahead," Karigan said, weariness weighing her
words down. She could not have cared less if the mercenaries walked into
some sort of trouble, but Torne's hand was on the hilt of his sword and it
looked as if he was going to use more than threats to move The Horse this
time.
"Go on, Horse," she said.
The Horse flickered an ear at her, but balked no longer. They walked on
and soon discovered what had stopped him. Strewn across the road, and
alongside it, was a jumble of bodies.
"King's soldiers," Jendara said without emotion.
In a flash, the mercenaries unsheathed their swords. That was when
Karigan saw the black bands on their blades which marked the two as
swordmasters. As such, they probably were, or had been, either tomb
guards, or the king's personal guards, truly an elite order of soldier. They
took oaths which bound them for life to the royal family, and even beyond
life. Some were bound to protect the dead in the Avenues of Kings and
Queens from desecration, and to guard against potential grave robbers
lured by the priceless relics of ages long past entombed with royalty. No
few guards were interred near their wards.
They were the finest swordfighters found in all Sacoridia. Arms Master
Rendle had told her that such guards, even without their blades, were
human weapons. In fact, they were often referred to as Weapons.
Karigan had been too shocked during the ambush to notice the bands on
their blades before. Their status as Weapons explained their ineptitude in
the wilderness, but not why they were now scraping around as
mercenaries.
Weapons were revered for their skills, and though they did not live in
absolute luxury, they lived at least as well as the lower nobility, in large
houses with servants to attend to their needs.
Even after retirement, they held honored places in the king's court.
Many often became counselors to the king, or trained the next generation
of guards bound to the royal family. Karigan found it hard to believe
Torne and Jendara had left Sacor City and their privileges voluntarily.
Crows flew squawking into the trees as Jendara and Torne picked their
way among the bodies. Larger carrion birds hopped, wings extended, only
a few paces away. The Weapons checked pockets and packs of the dead
for valuable trinkets or coins, but the two were out of luck. Whoever had
slain the soldiers had done a thorough search already. The breeze shifted
and Karigan gagged on the stench of rotting corpses.
"Looks like they were ambushed by groundmites." Jendara sheathed her
sword as if groundmites were no cause for concern.
"The Gray One has been busy," Torne said. He beckoned for Karigan
and The Horse to follow.
Karigan covered her nose and mouth with her hands, and tried not to
look down, but she had to look where she stepped. Bodies lay twisted and
entwined, and it was impossible to tell where one stopped and another
started. Crawling beetles created a sense of movement among the dead.
The silver of uniforms glared in the sun as if to mock the pride and
honor with which the soldiers had once donned the colors of Sacoridia.
Grim faces bloated in the sun unseeing. Carrion birds had picked out their
eyes.
Among the human dead were a few not-so-human remains. Karigan
couldn't tell if it was death that made the skin of these large creatures
yellowish brown, or if it was their natural coloring. The skin was covered
with patches of mud-colored fur. Open mouths, as if in the midst of
howling at the moment of death, were armed with sharp canines. Their
ears were pointed and furred like a cat's. Groundmites.
Three human heads were impaled on lances by the roadside. What
remained of a captain hung from a tree, his stomach split and gutted. Two
black-shafted arrows with red fletching pierced his heart. Karigan
vomited.
It took considerable time to coax The Horse across the corpse-strewn
road, much longer than she could bear. She wanted to run, to leave the
grisly scene far behind her. But she knew it would return to her in her
dreams, no matter how far away she went.
"That horse would never survive a battle," Torne said, watching the
miserable Karigan tug on the reins.
"Greenies are worthless in battle." Jendara's voice was full of contempt.
"They gallop across the countryside on horses, is all. I'm surprised they
even carry swords."
Karigan felt as green as her greatcoat, and kept walking even after she
had come to the end of the carnage. The mercenaries trotted to catch up
with her. Behind them, the carrion birds flopped back among the corpses
to resume their feeding.
Karigan was sick several more times. Blood and gore clung to her boots
and no amount of scraping them on the road seemed to rub it off. When a
stream appeared alongside the road, she ran to it so fast that even quick
Jendara could not route her. Karigan stood there in the stream, her eyes
closed, willing the rush of water to cleanse her feet, and her mind.
"Back on the road," Jendara ordered.
When Karigan opened her eyes, she was staring down the black-banded
blade. Torne stood in the middle of the road, his head thrown back in
laughter. "A murderer who can't stand the sight of blood!"
Karigan ignored him and locked her gaze with Jendara's. "Were you a
tomb guard, or a king's guard, Swordmaster?"
Jendara squinted, as if the glare off her own blade blinded her. A frown
tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I do not guard the dead."
"Then why do you betray the king?"
"I do not betray the king, not the rightful king."
Karigan raised her brows. The only sound was the stream flowing
around her ankles. Just what had Jendara meant by that? "There is only
one king. Zachary."
The blow was so fast Karigan didn't see it coming. Jendara slammed the
flat of her sword on Karigan's collarbone and sent her nerves ringing with
its force. She splashed to her knees, cold water soaking through her
trousers.
"I serve the rightful king," Jendara hissed. "Do not forget it." She
grabbed Karigan's collar, hauled her out of the stream, and shoved her
down the road.
Torne was laughing again, or perhaps he had never stopped. Karigan
staggered after her captors, dizzy and empty from vomiting repeatedly, but
relieved her boots, at least, were clean.
until The Horse froze in his tracks, his ears laid flat. He sidestepped
nervously and patches of sweat darkened his neck and flanks. Torne
hauled on the reins as if he could forcibly drag The Horse down the road.
When The Horse stayed anchored to his spot, Torne cursed and threatened
him.
"He senses something ahead," Karigan said, weariness weighing her
words down. She could not have cared less if the mercenaries walked into
some sort of trouble, but Torne's hand was on the hilt of his sword and it
looked as if he was going to use more than threats to move The Horse this
time.
"Go on, Horse," she said.
The Horse flickered an ear at her, but balked no longer. They walked on
and soon discovered what had stopped him. Strewn across the road, and
alongside it, was a jumble of bodies.
"King's soldiers," Jendara said without emotion.
In a flash, the mercenaries unsheathed their swords. That was when
Karigan saw the black bands on their blades which marked the two as
swordmasters. As such, they probably were, or had been, either tomb
guards, or the king's personal guards, truly an elite order of soldier. They
took oaths which bound them for life to the royal family, and even beyond
life. Some were bound to protect the dead in the Avenues of Kings and
Queens from desecration, and to guard against potential grave robbers
lured by the priceless relics of ages long past entombed with royalty. No
few guards were interred near their wards.
They were the finest swordfighters found in all Sacoridia. Arms Master
Rendle had told her that such guards, even without their blades, were
human weapons. In fact, they were often referred to as Weapons.
Karigan had been too shocked during the ambush to notice the bands on
their blades before. Their status as Weapons explained their ineptitude in
the wilderness, but not why they were now scraping around as
mercenaries.
Weapons were revered for their skills, and though they did not live in
absolute luxury, they lived at least as well as the lower nobility, in large
houses with servants to attend to their needs.
Even after retirement, they held honored places in the king's court.
Many often became counselors to the king, or trained the next generation
of guards bound to the royal family. Karigan found it hard to believe
Torne and Jendara had left Sacor City and their privileges voluntarily.
Crows flew squawking into the trees as Jendara and Torne picked their
way among the bodies. Larger carrion birds hopped, wings extended, only
a few paces away. The Weapons checked pockets and packs of the dead
for valuable trinkets or coins, but the two were out of luck. Whoever had
slain the soldiers had done a thorough search already. The breeze shifted
and Karigan gagged on the stench of rotting corpses.
"Looks like they were ambushed by groundmites." Jendara sheathed her
sword as if groundmites were no cause for concern.
"The Gray One has been busy," Torne said. He beckoned for Karigan
and The Horse to follow.
Karigan covered her nose and mouth with her hands, and tried not to
look down, but she had to look where she stepped. Bodies lay twisted and
entwined, and it was impossible to tell where one stopped and another
started. Crawling beetles created a sense of movement among the dead.
The silver of uniforms glared in the sun as if to mock the pride and
honor with which the soldiers had once donned the colors of Sacoridia.
Grim faces bloated in the sun unseeing. Carrion birds had picked out their
eyes.
Among the human dead were a few not-so-human remains. Karigan
couldn't tell if it was death that made the skin of these large creatures
yellowish brown, or if it was their natural coloring. The skin was covered
with patches of mud-colored fur. Open mouths, as if in the midst of
howling at the moment of death, were armed with sharp canines. Their
ears were pointed and furred like a cat's. Groundmites.
Three human heads were impaled on lances by the roadside. What
remained of a captain hung from a tree, his stomach split and gutted. Two
black-shafted arrows with red fletching pierced his heart. Karigan
vomited.
It took considerable time to coax The Horse across the corpse-strewn
road, much longer than she could bear. She wanted to run, to leave the
grisly scene far behind her. But she knew it would return to her in her
dreams, no matter how far away she went.
"That horse would never survive a battle," Torne said, watching the
miserable Karigan tug on the reins.
"Greenies are worthless in battle." Jendara's voice was full of contempt.
"They gallop across the countryside on horses, is all. I'm surprised they
even carry swords."
Karigan felt as green as her greatcoat, and kept walking even after she
had come to the end of the carnage. The mercenaries trotted to catch up
with her. Behind them, the carrion birds flopped back among the corpses
to resume their feeding.
Karigan was sick several more times. Blood and gore clung to her boots
and no amount of scraping them on the road seemed to rub it off. When a
stream appeared alongside the road, she ran to it so fast that even quick
Jendara could not route her. Karigan stood there in the stream, her eyes
closed, willing the rush of water to cleanse her feet, and her mind.
"Back on the road," Jendara ordered.
When Karigan opened her eyes, she was staring down the black-banded
blade. Torne stood in the middle of the road, his head thrown back in
laughter. "A murderer who can't stand the sight of blood!"
Karigan ignored him and locked her gaze with Jendara's. "Were you a
tomb guard, or a king's guard, Swordmaster?"
Jendara squinted, as if the glare off her own blade blinded her. A frown
tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I do not guard the dead."
"Then why do you betray the king?"
"I do not betray the king, not the rightful king."
Karigan raised her brows. The only sound was the stream flowing
around her ankles. Just what had Jendara meant by that? "There is only
one king. Zachary."
The blow was so fast Karigan didn't see it coming. Jendara slammed the
flat of her sword on Karigan's collarbone and sent her nerves ringing with
its force. She splashed to her knees, cold water soaking through her
trousers.
"I serve the rightful king," Jendara hissed. "Do not forget it." She
grabbed Karigan's collar, hauled her out of the stream, and shoved her
down the road.
Torne was laughing again, or perhaps he had never stopped. Karigan
staggered after her captors, dizzy and empty from vomiting repeatedly, but
relieved her boots, at least, were clean.
