Once We Were Kings (Young Adult Fantasy) (The Sojourner Saga) (23 page)

Already on her way ahead of him, Greifer laughed.  "Verily I say unto thee, the Sojourners shall not harm even a hair upon thine anointed head."

"Oh?  They didn't spare children like Folen, Stewan nor anyone else murdered in that cowardly seige."

At that, she stopped and turned to face him.  "What of thy brother, Kaine?  Will he join you soon?"

"He can't."

"Surely thou hast not left him amongst the Torians?  Not after everything he—"

"He's dead."

Immediately her countenance filled with pain.  Her lips quivered.  "How did this come to pass?"

Though it should not have mattered to this creature, Render somehow felt the sting of guilt and was too ashamed to tell her.  "I keep trying to tell you, the perpetrators of all these cowardly acts are the Sojourners."

"Perhaps indeed I was too late."  She said, her words echoing into a sad emptiness.  "Perhaps thou hast been so indoctrinated that....Nay, Shamis foretold of even this."

"What are you talking about?"

"In due time, unto thee all shall be explained.  But suffice it to say, what the Torians hath taught thee regarding the Sojourners, is not truth."

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Render's questions seemed endless even to himself.  By late afternoon he decided that he had asked enough about the discrepancy between what he'd been taught about the Sojourners and what Greifer called truth.   But thinking of the Sojourners as oppressed and persecuted twisted his understanding of the world. It was more than he could stand.

For the rest of the afternoon well until dusk, Render and Greifer exchanged few words.  Once again, she transformed back into a cat because, as she had explained, her human form tired her exceedingly and would have left her too weak to help, should someone attack.

"And as I said before," Render said, rolling his eyes.  "I can take care of myself, thank you."

Greifer simply regarded him with one of those cold stares only a cat can give. 

"Thirty-five days on foot!"  Render sat on a rock just before a ledge at the top of the hill on which they stopped.  "I don't know why I'm even going along with you."

Greifer continued and peered down to the bottom of the hill.

// BE STILL //

"What is it?"

She shushed him with what sounded like a hiss.  Render joined her, knelt behind a log and stole a look.  Down at the foot of the hill, two roughshod men sat on the ground sharing a drink from a wine flask while their horses stood tied to a tree.  They were laughing, belching and speaking with such coarseness it reminded Render of Bobbington.

Something odd caught his eye.  Resting against a tree was a brown sack, its top tied with a dark brown rope.  The oddest thing about this sack wasn't so much that its contents looked so strange, but that it moved.  And it made quite a bit of noise, albeit it muffled.

"I'll bet he fetches a pretty price on the market," the larger of the two men said.

"If you ask me, he's a bit scrawny."

"But he seems sharp, for his age, anyway."

The smaller man shrugged.  "He's a whole lot of talk, he is.  Ah, he's not worth the trouble.  Cut your losses, I say."

"Give him one more day, if he bothers you too much before we get him to the market, we'll slit his throat and dump him.  How's that sound?"

"Fine.  But you'll see.  You're going to have to do it, not me.  I don't like that part of this business, the blood and all that."

"And you think I do?"

"Don't seem to have no problem doing it when it needs doing.  Serves you right.   I told you he was going to be trouble from the first insult out of his mouth."

"We'll see if he's learned his lesson by tomorrow morning.  How's that?  If he gives us any cheek, we'll cut our losses."

"And his throat." 

They burst out laughing.

Render touched his neck and swallowed a lump.  "Whoever's in that sack is doomed."

// TRAIN your THOUGHTS UPON THE HORSES //

"The horses?"  With an angry glare, Render hissed, "A person is about to be sold as a slave or murdered, and you're concerned with the horses?"

// THERE SHALL BE OPPORTUNITIES ENOUGH TO SAVE LIVES, RENDER.  MANY LIVES.  BUT IF WE DO NOT ARRIVE AT THE SOJOURNERS COUNCIL IN A TIMELY FASHION, COUNTLESS MORE SHALL PERISH //

"So, you mean to say that it's acceptable to sacrifice the lives of some to save others?"

// PRAY KEEP your VOICE—//

"And how exactly do you judge whose lives are worth more, and whose are suitable to sacrifice?" Render hissed.  "Would a slave be more suitable?"  He tried to stand up and walk away, for this very discourse revolted him.  But sooner than he could lift his head, Greifer placed a paw upon his shoulder.  It surprised him that he could not stand up.  The weight and force of her paw prevented it.  He blinked and before his eyes, the slender black cat changed into that formidable panther, baring frightful fangs and emitting a low-pitched growl which Render could feel reverberating in his chest.  Or perhaps it was his own heart, pitter-pattering in apprehension.

// you cannot YET GRASP ALL THAT IS REQUIRED.  I IMPLORE THEE, TRUST ME //

One would imagine that a panther, as formidable as this, would make a great sound when it bounded over the log, over Render, and down the hill.  But the only sound that Render heard was the whoosh of air as she flew over his head and bounded for the slave traders.

As soon as her feet hit the ground, twigs snapped.  Leaves crackled.  The traders started from their inebriated stupor.

"What?  Who's there?"  With surprising speed, one drew a sword, the other, the shorter, drew a crossbow.

"Greifer!"  Render whispered.

// ASSIST ME OR STAND CLEAR //

CHAPTER FIFTY

“By the stars!" cried the larger sword-wielding slave trader.  The shorter one screamed like a woman and fumbled with his cross bow.  All the while, muffled cries emanated from the writhing cloth sack as the prisoner struggled in vain to pull free from the ropes that bound it to the tree.

Greifer roared and flashed fangs which bore a resemblance to curved daggers.  Both horses reared up and screamed.  Bewildered, Render gripped the edge of a branch so hard his fingers grew numb.

Down below, he could see Greifer, her sleek panther coat glistening in the amber light of the setting sun, her angry tail sweeping from side to side.  Slowly, she approached both men and betrayed not even the slightest hesitation, armed though they were.

They backed away, stammering unintelligibly.

"I'm going to try to get on me horse and—" Greifer leapt over him.  "Oh!"  Now she blocked the path to the horses, leaving open the trail that led out of the wood and into the open road.

The taller man glanced over his shoulder, dropped his sword and flew down the trail.

"Wait!" called the other.  "You cowardly worm!  Don't leave me here alone!"

With great caution, Greifer approached him, even as he gritted his teeth, took a deep breath and aimed his crossbow.  Unexpected pluck, Render thought.   But the thought of Greifer getting killed gave him pause.   She was the only person that could answer the many questions that plagued him.  He could not allow her to perish.  Moreover, if she was who she claimed, he owed her his life many times over.

"All right, you beast!" said the merchant.  "It's just me and you then."  He lifted the weapon.

Without a second thought, Render pulled out the dagger he'd lifted from the dead soldier.  He concentrated his aim at the merchant's hand.  In one swift motion, he threw the knife, sending it whistling through the air.

If he had not witnessed it with his own eyes, Render would not have believed what happened.  The merchant let out a startled grunt.  His crossbow clattered onto the rocks at his feet.

Now panting and wheezing, the wide-eyed merchant whined like a frightened child as Greifer stood upon her hind legs and planted her forepaws upon his shoulders.  She glared down and growled at him, jaws ready to rip this throat out.

"No, please, no!" he cried, chest heaving with rapid gasps.  His right arm dangled from the sleeve which Render had pinned to a tree with his dagger.  Render climbed down and retrieved the fallen crossbow and pointed it at the pathetic little flesh merchant.

"I see you've met my friend," Render said.

"Your—?"

Greifer clamped her massive jaws around the merchant's right arm and pulled.  This tore the fabric from his sleeve leaving a swatch fastened to the tree and fluttering in the breeze like a tattered sail.  From the dagger which Render had thrown, smoke arose with tiny flames smoldering at the center.

Instantly, the man fell on his back, pinned by the mighty paws of the black panther.  By the rumble of her growl, by the fire in her eyes, and by the same cool tingling sensation that traversed his spine, Render remembered how she had scared off Bobbington, that night at the cave, how she’d chased him from the pool with the dead soldiers.

"Please, kind sir," the merchant said.  "Call off your...your...animal!"

"You must give your word that you'll never return."

"Yes.  Yes.  I can tell by your speech that you're of high born blood, you are.  But what is someone of your princely stature doing in this rough wood, and so meanly attired?"

"Spare me your flattery and speculation, lest you try my patience beyond its limits."

The merchant bowed his head.

 "Very well, then.  You must also give your word that you shall henceforth cease this evil enterprise of peddling flesh."

"Young master," he said, stuttering.  "Perhaps your tender age makes it difficult to see the harsh economic realities of it all.  This trade of mine gives me no more pleasure than it does you.  But I have a family to feed.  It's an honest liv—"

"Hold your tongue, lest I cut it out!"

A repentant nod.

Render stepped forward.  Slung the cross bow across his shoulder and retrieved the sword which the other trader had dropped.   He glared down at the man whose neck now pulsed with trepidation, for Greifer's fangs now pressed into his skin, dimpling his neck with deep indentations.

"Now, arise.  As a parting gift, we give you your miserable life.  Make all haste and return to your family."

"It is well received, Sire."  Greifer released the merchant but stood ready to pounce. 

With the point of the sword under the merchant's chin, Render said, "Now go."

"Thank you, Sire.  I give you my word, I'll never sell or trade another slave, for all my days."

Clearly, this was not one to be trusted.  Render lifted his sword in a threatening manner.  "On pain of our extreme disapproval, do not test us."

But the merchant had already begun to stumble down the trail and out of the wood.

"You were remarkable!" Render said, turning to Greifer.  But she was not there.  Not where he expected her to be, anyway.  Render turned halfway to the left.  Then the right.  Then completely turned around and found Greifer, returned to the form of a small black cat.  She regarded him with an aloof gaze, blinked twice and began to walk towards the horses.

"Did that take a great deal out of you?" Render said.  "I mean, assuming the form of a Panther?"

// I SHALL RECOVER.  BUT WE MUST HOPE FOR NO FURTHER CONFRONTATIONS UNTIL THE MORROW //

She stared up at the saddle of the brown horse.  There hung a leather pouch, its flap slung open.

"There's this matter of the panthers I've previously encountered, Greifer."  Render stepped up to the black horse which was tied next to the brown one.  It blew out a breath and winced as Render stroked its mane.  Soon, it relaxed and leaned slightly against his hand.

Greifer did not answer Render right away.  Instead, she leapt up and climbed into the saddle pouch.  After turning herself so that she faced outward, she draped her paws over the edge of the pouch and looked down at the squirming cloth sack by the tree.

"I nearly forgot."  Render stepped over to the sack and knelt.  "You in there.  Hold still, I'm going to cut you out."  He reached up and pried the dirk from the tree trunk.  Then he slid the sharp edge under the rope coiled tightly around the gathered opening of the slave-sack.

With two or three attempts, the rope gave.  Render pulled the sack down over the shoulders of the boy who had been captured.  His face was turned to the ground and Render could not yet see it.  Then he cut the ropes that bound his wrists behind his back.

Finally, he removed the gag by undoing the knot tied behind the victim's head.  The boy turned around.  His indignant and haughty eyes instantly betrayed him.  But was this a ghost, or was it actually him in the flesh?

Render blinked to clear his eyes and to make sure he was not mistaken.  "I say!  Is that you, Branson?"

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

“Oh, it would be you!"  Branson said, spitting out dust and shreds from the burlap cloth that had gagged him.  "Untie me, at once."

"I've a good mind to put you back." Render stepped over to the tree where smoke still rose from the spot the dagger had pinned the slave trader's sleeve.

"No, wait.  Come back here, immediately!"

Render glanced over to the horses and noticed Greifer asleep.  "How can you sleep, now?" he whispered.  "Aren't you the least bit concerned about this?"

Greifer yawned, lifted and shook her head, then rested it on top of her forepaws dangling over the saddlebag.

// THAT BOY WILL BRING THEE NO GOOD FORTUNE. YOU'D DO BEST TO LEAVE HIM HERE //

"Believe me, I am tempted."  Nevertheless, Render did not heed her counsel and returned to Branson.  "Hold out your hands."

"Be careful, you'll slit my wrists!"

"With my luck, I won't."  With one swift motion, Render cut the chords and Branson's hands were loosed.  Without so much as a thank you, he stood, shed the sack and undid the rope around his ankles.

Leaning on a tree, Render shook his head.  "Why did you run?"