Rhapsody, Child of Blood (56 page)

'umor. You'll fit in with us just fine, darlin'."

On the morning they found the bear den Grunthor had mentioned, a hidden hole in a thicket of brambles that opened into a surprisingly large cave. Achmed had gone in first to make sure it was unoccupied and sound. After determining that it was, Rhapsody and Jo led the children inside and began preparing for the long wait. Achmed delayed his exit until he was sure they would be safe.

'Use up the supplies. I'm sure Stephen will reprovision us when we return with whoever he sends to pick up the brats," he said.

Rhapsody looked nervously around the silent forest. The temperature had dropped in the night, freezing the snow into a sharp crust and stinging the exposed extremities of the children. Each of the three had given their gloves to one of the little ones, but most of the children were still suffering the effects of the cold.

'Please hurry," she said, knowing the exhortation was unnecessary. "I'd hate to have rescued them just to have them die of frostbite or exposure to the elements."

'I'm not too concerned about that," Achmed said with a slight smile. "I imagine you'll find a way to keep them warm—rocks are a good conductor of heat—and you have shelter here. I'm more worried about predators, one in particular. Try and keep out of sight. I'll create some diversionary tracks to draw him away from you. Grunthor will stand guard."

Rhapsody looked into the unusual face and smiled. "I know.

-

Be careful yourself." She embraced him, then turned to go back into the cave.

'Rhapsody?"

'Yes?"

'We need to talk about this girl when I get back."

Rhapsody turned around and stood directly in front of him. "Let's talk about it now."

The Dhracian shook his head. "There isn't time. I have to get to Stephen's as quickly as possible."

'Then there's nothing to talk about," Rhapsody said. "I know what you're going to say—that I shouldn't have adopted her, that you don't trust her."

Achmed nodded. "That's about it."

'Well, then, it seems to me that I've made my choice, now you need to make yours.

Jo and I are a set. If you want us to leave when you get back, we will find our own way."

Achmed breathed deeply, trying to contain his fury. "It might have been nice for you to consult us before making this decision."

Rhapsody exhaled as well. "I know," she said softly. "You're right, and I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. It just seemed the right thing to do."

'I guess that depends on what you define as 'right.' You've just compromised our chances of survival, Rhapsody, whether you know it or not."

'How can you say that, especially after what we've just seen in that house?"

Rhapsody spat. "You, who can take out a field of soldiers in a heartbeat? She's a child, Achmed. And, unlike those other poor children who, if they live until you get back, have families waiting to celebrate their return, Jo has nothing, no one. You might as well have left her there, for all her chances of survival without us."

'And when did this become your bloody responsibility?"

Rhapsody's voice dropped to a murderous whisper.

'I made it my bloody responsibility. Believe it or not, I actually have some choices in life, despite your proclivity for making my decisions for me. This is one of them. She stays, or we both go. I'm not abandoning her."

'Oi like 'er, if that counts for anythin'," added Grunthor. His face was somber.

The Dhracian turned in his direction, his expression changing. He thought for a long moment.

_ 'Are you willing to have her with us, to be responsible for her?"

'Sure, why not? It worked with 'Er Ladyship 'ere."

'It's hardly the same."

'Why?" Rhapsody asked. "I see no difference. You wanted to help me; now I want to help her."

Achmed stifled a laugh. "You think we were looking to kelp you?"

Rhapsody blinked. "Yes; well, at the moment we met, anyway. And you did, even if I didn't appreciate being dragged off-Island at the time."

Achmed's face twisted in amusement. "And it never occurred to you that we might have taken you along as insurance—"Or a food source?" added Grunthor playfully. "Of course it did, but time has proven otherwise. Come on, you two, she needs us. She won't be any problem—well, no more a problem than I was."

'Uh-oh, now that you put it like that—" "She's damaged goods," said Achmed impatiently. The jovial look in Rhapsody's eyes vanished and was replaced with something darker. She cast a glance in the direction of the cave to be sure Jo could not hear them.

'Pardon me," she said acidly, "but in case you hadn't noticed, we're all damaged goods in some way." " 'Ey, speak for yourself," said Grunthor. "I am. This girl needs me, needs us. And I need her. I'll be responsible for her. If you don't want us with you any longer, that's fine. But I'm not leaving her."

Achmed exhaled angrily. "All right, she can come. But she needs to understand that she is responsible to all of us, not just you. We can't have a member of this team we can't trust. You can tell her where we're going, but nothing about our past. Are we agreed?"

Rhapsody threw her arms around him, knocking him off balance. "Yes. Thank you."

She released him quickly and straightened his askew cloak. "Now hurry. Be careful, and tell Lord Stephen to send medical supplies, too."

Q) or more than a week the strange group stayed within the cave, waiting for Achmed to return. Rhapsody kept the children warm with her fire lore, heating the rocks as Achmed had sug gested, until the cave was as cozy as a house with a roaring hearth.

Food was plentiful; Grunthor had been provisioned for several weeks' journey, and one day's food rations for him fed all of the children with some to spare. With no need to have a fire for warmth they avoided having one, keeping the air of the cave fresh and leaving no trail of smoke by which to be spotted.

The absence of light initially frightened the children, so Rhapsody drew Daystar Clarion and stuck it, tip first, into the soft ground in a corner of the cave. Its flames gave off no smoke, and licked quietly up the blade, illuminating the cave and filling it with a warm glow, made sweeter by the quiet songs she sang to keep the children amused. With the herbs from her pack she treated their wounds and kept them tranquil, trying to avoid making any noise that would draw attention to their hidden den.

She softly maintained her morning and evening devotions, however. As she sang, the faces of her newly adopted grandchildren, Gwydion and Melisande, rose up in her heart, smiling as they had when last they were together. The warm memory stood in stark contrast to the bleak, anxious countenances that stared back at her now. It made her frightened for all the children of Navarne.

Once, while she was staring at the small faces, the knots of worry barely eased in their sleep, memories of the old days flooded her mind. She thought back to Analise, the child she had saved from Michael, whom he had derisively called Petunia.

The day after Michael and his men had left on their assignment she had taken the child, under the protection of Nana's guards, to the Wide Meadows, the great open plain that surrounded Easton on three sides. Together they had searched out the leader of the Liringlas who made their home there.

The Lirin house had taken the child in warmly, and Rhapsody had long comforted herself with the image of Analise, sitting before the leader on her horse, waving goodbye and smiling for the first and only time she had seen. She had smiled and waved in return, knowing that Analise would be well cared for.

It was not until much later that the pain had come, loss that was not eased with the knowledge that she had absolutely done what was right for the orphaned child. She missed her still, and wondered whether she had ever found happiness after the terror she had experienced at Michael's hands. Rhapsody had vowed to herself, from that time forward, that no child would ever be abused if she could prevent it, no matter the cost to herself. She caressed the tiny heads in the darkness, choking back the memory.

For several days a wild storm raged outside, howling around them like a pack of wolves at their concealed door. Rhapsody took comfort in the fact that the pounding wind and snow had undoubtedly covered their tracks by now, but it was hard to stop feeling uneasy.

The children screamed in terror at the first crash of a tree above them, and scurried to Rhapsody, trying to burrow beneath her arms and legs for cover. Some were frightened enough to seek solace in Grunthor, and found him to be a highly satisfactory refuge. He comforted them with repulsive jokes and had them laughing even as the thunder rumbled around them, shaking showers of dirt and rocks from the cave walls and roof. Eventually the storm abated, but the children remained, sleeping or playing near their new gigantic friend.

Grunthor kept watch by day until the supper hour, sleeping until midnight, when he took up the guard post again. Rhapsody and Jo stood guard together while he slept, but no one came to disturb their hiding place, not even woodland animals. The tainted evil of the forest had driven the wildlife away long ago.

It was during this time that she and Jo got better acquainted, and found themselves developing a fond liking for each other, though the teenager still refused each request to share more details of her name. They had similar senses of humor, and each often struggled to keep from laughing aloud at the other's observations, particularly about Grunthor.

It was hard not to think back on her own childhood when watching Jo, which always left her feeling morose. Jo's life on the street had been a result of unfortunate circumstance; Rhapsody's painful history was of her own making. Jo had no family; Rhapsody had thrown hers away, left behind people who had loved her, had protected and cherished her, and who had died, never knowing what became of her. The dreams that followed such waking thoughts were so torturous that they must, at least on some level, be penance for her crimes.

Rhapsody found herself wishing that she were taking the girl back to Navarne, to a safe place, instead of into the belly of the -38!

Bolglands. Eventually she shared this sentiment with Jo, who reminded her with a nod to the sleeping children that danger was everywhere these days; it was better not to be deluded into feeling safe.

Finally, after almost a week, Achmed returned with reinforcements. The caravan was audible from a great way off, with Grunthor having been alerted early on to its presence on the land through his Earth lore.

Rhapsody stumbled out into the painful brightness and shielded her eyes, searching the frost-covered branches of trees and forest brush for their rescuers.

In the distance she could hear the sound of horses and wagons, making slow progress through the thick woods along the path they had traveled on their fateful visit to the House of Remembrance.

Almost an hour after she had heard them, soldiers came into sight, more than two score of them, led by Achmed and Lord Stephen himself on horseback. When Achmed came within range she rose and waved, bringing a smile to the face of the duke.

Stephen dismounted and ran to the cave, sweeping her into a frenzied embrace.

'Sweet All-God the Creator, Rhapsody, are you all right? I've been worried sick about you ever since Achmed arrived." He pulled away and looked at her intently, then cleared his throat as color flooded his face along with obvious relief.

Rhapsody patted his shoulder reassuringly. "We're all fine, Lord Stephen, thank you.

The children are inside the cave with Grunthor."

'Well, haul them out of there, and let's see who we've got," he said, bending and peering into the entrance of the den.

At the sight of Stephen's face, Grunthor marshaled the small troops. "All right, ya bloomin' skels, 'op to it and line up," he ordered. At the command the children leapt to attention and formed a wiggling line, chattering with excitement, the first jollity they had been allowed in a very long while.

One by one Grunthor handed the children up to Rhapsody, who passed them to Lord Stephen. The duke spoke reassuringly to each child, recognizing some, questioning others, until fourteen of the children had emerged and had been handed over to the care of the soldiers near the wagon. Finally, Jo appeared, walking ahead of a strong push by Grunthor. Rhapsody took the girl's thin, pale hand; it was trembling.

'Lord Stephen, may I present my sister, Jo?" She gave the girl an encouraging smile, then looked back at the Duke of Navarne.

Stephen stared at Jo for a moment, then turned to Rhapsody, whose smile grew noticeably brighter. "How do you do, Jo?" he said a moment later. "It's an honor to meet a member of Rhapsody's family. I'm sorry we didn't meet earlier."

'I'm not," muttered Jo under her breath.

'Was that all the children, then?" Lord Stephen asked.

Rhapsody's smile faded. "I'm afraid so," she said sadly. "I wish there had been more. We searched the House of Remembrance thoroughly, but we didn't find anyone else." Not alive, at least, she thought grimly.

Lord Stephen took her gently by the shoulders. "I'm grateful to all of you for finding these," he said. "There are many grieving parents and relatives who will be celebrating at week's end when we return."

'I only wish there could be more," she said, thinking back to the small lifeless bodies strung hideously from the slaughter altars. "I hope you sent troops with strong stomachs and no children of their own." She turned and watched Grunthor handing the children up to the soldiers in the wagon, then looked back into the young duke's smiling face. She regarded him seriously.

'Please go home with these children," she said gravely. "You've already suffered enough. It's better that you leave the cleanup of the House to others, m'lord."

Lord Stephen looked at the ground. "It's Stephen," he said. "And I will abide by your counsel."

'We're ready, m'lord," called the captain of the regiment. Rhapsody and the duke looked at each other a moment longer, then Stephen reluctantly released her shoulders.

Once free, she trotted to the wagon and bade the children goodbye, blowing them kisses. The small faces looked back, some blankly, some smiling; the trauma would take a long time to heal. The driver of the wagon clicked to the horses and the cart lurched forward, flanked by mounted soldiers, and slowly made its way back down the forest road.