Farmers & Mercenaries (32 page)

S
weat ran in rivulets under Klain’s thick fur as he raced over the land. Traveling on all fours, he easily kept pace with the mare galloping next to him. It had taken a long time for the horse to get over its natural fear of the Kithian. Even now, tearing over the open field, the creature stank of fear, and would roll the occasional wild, wide-eyed glance in his direction.

His sword, resting in its odd shaped scabbard and belt, slapped against his side with every stride he made. It still humbled him that the Honored One, Sarshia, had bestowed such a gift upon him.

The sheath of this sword allows me to run unhindered on hindpaws or on all four with equal ease.

The sword, made from some type of metal with black veins winding through it, held an edge better than anything he had ever seen.

It is razor sharp, and I have yet to hone its edge!

Glancing at Charver, riding high in his mare’s saddle, Klain saw the elation of the young boy-cub as he spurned his mount on.

It excites him to think he can win this race.

Breaking from the line of fruit trees, Klain slowed his pace just a bit once the buildings in the back of the Vimith villa came into view, allowing the horse a step or two lead. The pair tore onto the dirt road leading to the stables, Klain trailing, and slowed only after passing the edge of the furthest building.

Dust billowed into the air as Charver pulled hard on the reins and the horse’s hooves dug into dirt, sliding to a stop. “Ha! I have beaten you!”

Rising onto his hindpaws into a more Human-like stance, Klain jogged to a stop and swiped a paw at the air in front of him. “Aye, Young Master. Yet you have a fresh mount, and I have run all morn. Still, you ride the animal with skill.”

Slipping from the saddle, the boy-cub landed lightly upon the ground. “I have had my own horse since I was four.”

“Young Master Vimith!” Although Klain knew the voice of the Human who yelled at his charge, he still could not stop his hand from straying to the hilt of his sword. Nor did he soften the glare he gave to the man striding out of the stables toward them. “You will not treat my horses so if you wish to keep riding them.”

Taking hold of the reins, Charver walked the animal to the stable master. “I am sorry, Mir’am Rist, I was caught up in the race.”

The old stable master hobbled over and snatched the reins from the boy. “Be that as it may, you cannot go forcing a horse to slide to a halt without a good reason! Have you forgotten all the lessons I gave you? What if she broke a leg, or worse, threw you and broke your fool neck.” At the sound of Klain’s growl, Rist spun and glared at Klain. “And you keep your fangs to yourself! I have tended this lad since he wore swaddling clothes. I will not coddle him just for your sake!” Tugging on the reins, Mir’am Rist led the horse into the stables.

“Race you inside!”

Charver dashed for the back door of the villa. Reaching out, Klain snagged the boy’s arm, halting his progress. “I think we have had enough racing for one day. Let us walk for a time.”

“Oh, very well.” The boy led the way onto the patio area. “It is about time for halfmeal. You hungry?”

Smiling down at the boy, Klain wondered which of the two of them ate more. “Aye, Young Master, I could eat.”

“Wait for me on the patio and I will have the servants bring us something.”

Watching the boy jog off, Klain continued into the shaded sitting area and sat on one of the comfortable chairs arranged around the large stone table. Charver returned, trailed by a serving girl, and before long both sat munching on trays of food.

Wiping a sleeve across his mouth, Charver took a long drink of water from his mug. “You run really fast. I wish I could run that fast.”

“You are not built to cover ground like me, Young Master. It is not your fault for being Human.”

“That is true! Still, I would love to be able to outrun a horse!”

Klain’s hackles rose when he caught a smell floating on the wind. The scent let him know who was approaching long before he heard the booted steps upon the tiled floor of the patio. “Well, well. I am glad I found you,
beast
.”

Jumping up before Klain could react, Charver shot Satner Timms a defiant look. “My father has already told you not to call Master Klain that!”

Grunting, Satner propped a foot on an empty chair. “Oh, aye! Alas, Master Vimith left this morn for Diamond Point. He will not be back for at least a tenday.”

Charver looked shocked. “Really! How is it you are still here then?”

Raising a hand, Satner coughed into his fist—not a very convincing cough at that. “I seem to be a little ill. Master Vimith thought it better I stay behind.” Turning to Klain, he snapped his fingers as if just remembering something. “Oh,
Master
Klain.” Shooting a glance at the boy, Satner rolled his eyes. “Master Vimith left word that he wanted you to go into town with one of my men and pick up a particularly valuable item from the Merchantillian this day. Said it was might important and he wanted his best protecting it.”

From the corner of his eye, Klain noticed Charver trying to catch his attention. He chose to ignore the boy-cub. “What is this item?”

“Well,” Satner drug out the word and waved a hand in a mock show of disinterest. “It is not for the likes of us to know the details of our Masters, now is it
beast
!” Shooting a look at Charver, he grinned.

Moving his hindpaws with a deliberate slowness, Klain rose to his full height and looked down on Satner. Even though Satner would be considered big for a Human, his head stopped just below Klain’s shoulders. “With Master Vimith away, I could not possibly leave young Master Vimith alone.”

“Pah.” Satner reached over and ruffled the boy’s hair. “I will look after the lad. Tis no bother at all.”

Reaching up, Charver took hold of the man’s hand and pushed it off. Looking back at Klain, he shook his head and mouthed for him not to go.

After a moments pause, Satner pulled his foot from the chair and started to walk away. “Fine by me, beast. Still, it was an order of Master Vimith’s that you go.”

Looking down to the boy, Klain knew he had no escape. He also knew the boy-cub would be safe here at the villa, no matter what Satner’s plan. “When am I supposed to leave?”

Stopping, the bodyguard turned and smiled, wiping a hand across his bald head. “Narn is saddling up his horse as we speak. He will be leaving within a quarter aurn.”

“Tell him I will meet him out front.”

Nodding, Satner turned and slipped between the plants that kept the patio area well shaded. After he left, Charver reached over and put his small hand on Klain’s paw. “Do not go!” His whisper dripped with fear. “I have never heard of father requesting such a thing.”

Sitting back down, Klain indicated that the boy do the same. “Neither you nor I know that for certain. If I go, and find that it is a waste of my time, I will see that Satner regrets the ruse.”

“Please, Master Klain, you do not know these men as I!” The boy bowed his head and stared into his lap. “I have told you how sorry I am for helping them gang up on you your first day.” Looking back up, Klain saw tears in his eyes. “You are more than a guard to me. You are my friend.”

“Each of us has duties. If I have learned anything during my time with you Humans, it is that. Your father, Master Vimith, has been more than kind to me over the past tendays. I will not dishonor him by neglecting his request.” Raising a paw, he stopped Charver’s interruption. “Even if I think it is not a real request.” Standing, he adjusted his sword belt. “You will be fine while I am away. Of that, I am certain. What happens to me is of no concern.”

“Yet, if this is a trap?”

Raising his upper lip, Klain exposed his front fangs. “If it is, I will deal with it.”

A
piercing screech cut through the air sending a shiver slicing through Arderi Cor. The high-pitched sound ricocheted off the cliff wall that rose on their right to disappear into the clouds above. The screech sounded much closer than before. Arderi felt the tension in the young Shaper, Jintrill Deln, who stood next to him holding Master Rillion’s sword, Dorochi, in a tight grip. His head swiveled about as he tried to catch a glimpse of the creature they pursued.

Or that pursues us.

They had ascended the side of the mountain for nearly the entire day, following narrow goat paths where they could—climbing where they could not. Even though they had climbed for aurns, and Arderi was certain they walked higher than any man had the right to be, the top of the rocky peak was lost from his view overhead. Master Rillion was a man obsessed. Since they had abandoned the destroyed base camp three eves prior, he had not paused in his hunt of the Drakon. He did not force Arderi nor Sier Deln to follow, yet what choice did they have?

We would not survive out here on our own, that is for certain.

Arderi and Jintrill stood in a small, thin copse of pine trees that had somehow found root on the rocky ledge. Both of the young men leaned heavily upon a tree, gasping for breath that evaded them for some reason. Arderi looked at Clytus who had stepped onto a small outcrop some ten paces away to survey the open sky and valley below.

Before he had stepped away, stating in a gruff voice for the two of them to remain within the trees, he had unbuckled Dorochi from his waist and thrust the sword, scabbard and all, into the Sier’s hands. “Take this. You may have need of it.”

Now the late dusk light glinted off his tarnished breastplate. He cast a striking image, standing on the edge of the cliff. Beyond his silhouette, spackled here and there by a few thinly stretched clouds, a vast expanse of blue nothingness extended. He scanned the skyline, holding a crossbow with a poison tipped bolt at his hip. A bolt, the Commander claimed, would kill a Drakon with a single shot. Arderi knew that once Master Rillion acquired his target, it would take only a heartbeat for him to raise the weapon, take aim, and fire.

If
I have such faith in him then why is this fear in me so deep?

Another shrill scream ricocheted off the peaks. Sounding mere paces away, it echoed off the rocks behind Clytus, and Arderi flinched. Clenching his fists tight, Arderi focused on Clytus, trying in vain to reign in his anxiety. He could not help except admire the Commander’s confidence standing upon the rock. Strong, fast, skilled. Arderi hoped he would one day be that type of man. A crackle of stone on stone, and Arderi moved his attention to the cliff face behind Master Rillion. The man must have heard the same, for he spun and raised his crossbow at the same instant. Small stones and loose dirt slid down the face of the cliff not five paces behind Clytus, yet nothing was there. Staring at it for a moment longer, crossbow held against his shoulder at the ready, Clytus returned his attention back to the open sky. Still, Arderi could not take his eyes from the area where dirt and loose stones still slid down to pool at the base of the outcropping. Something odd held his attention.

What are you doing, you foolish boy! Stop being a scared little tit hiding in the trees and staring at the dirt. Pay attention!

Yet, even with the self-scolding, Arderi could not move his eyes from the side of the cliff. His throat tightened and he sucked in a sharp breath.

There
is
something there!

A shimmering—the wisp of an outline, nothing more—yet he knew. He began to cry out a warning even as the form took shape within his gaze. The beast was massive, at least the size of a horse, if not bigger. Its bat-like wings nearly twice that in width. He could make out the entire Drakon now—whatever force had concealed it having dissipated completely. It clung to the side of the rock just a few paces behind Clytus’ shoulder. Blackish-brown in color, its body built like that of a large hairless cat. Lean muscles rippled beneath its leathery skin. Its hind legs, strong and powerful, obviously made for jumping, sat bunched in a tight curl, wound taut in anticipation of a leap. Its forelegs ended in hand-like paws that sprouted long, razor-sharp claws, which now dug into the rock face of the cliff, holding it steady. Its broad flat head, resembling the head of a shovel, hovered motionless as it focused on Clytus. Small spiny bits of bone jutted out in two distinct lines starting on either side of its nostrils. These extended up its head and past its ears. Ears that lay flat against its long, thin neck that snaked out at least a pace from its body like the branch of a tree. Its maw gaped open exposing rows of fangs and teeth. Yet, its eyes were what held Arderi—deep, black slits of fluid hate.

The creature’s long tail slithered up the cliff face, and the muscles in its hind legs rippled as it prepared to launch itself toward its target. Unwinding from its coiled perch against the cliff, it sprang forward, releasing another ear-splitting wail. Its wings pumped one powerful stroke as it jumped, sending it racing at Clytus in a blur of black.