Trinity (6 page)

They had to get to Valgate
quickly.

Nidan glanced down at Kiana. Her
face was smudged with grime, but there were clean streaks where
tears had washed the dirt away. Asleep, she looked peaceful. Nidan
wished she could stay that way for longer, but it was too
dangerous. He slowly moved his arm from around her shoulders,
disturbing her slumber. He saw her eyelids flutter open, and she
stared up at him. Kiana’s brow furrowed and her lips parted
slightly in an unspoken question. Then she sat up abruptly, letting
out a soft cry as her elbow struck rock. Breathing quickly, she
stared at the interior of the cave and then at him.

“
It wasn’t a
dream!”

Nidan’s lips shrank into a solemn
frown. He shook his head.

Kiana wiped her hand across her
forehead and then tucked rogue strands of blonde hair behind her
ears. “We need to get moving, don’t we?”

Nidan hesitated, wondering if she
was all right to travel. Not that it mattered: they had to press on
if they had wanted any hope of escaping the Wolves.

After leaving
the safety of the cave, Nidan insisted they walk in the river
itself so that they couldn’t be tracked. The river didn’t hamper
their movements too greatly because it was shallower than it had
been closer to the tower. They were exposed, but hopefully, the
Wolves were satisfied the area had been thoroughly searched during
the night and previous day.

At first they walked in silence,
keeping up a relatively brisk pace throughout the morning. Nidan
tried to watch Kiana and keep a look out for any sign of the Wolves
but was hampered by the rock face to his left and the dense trees
that lined the river on the opposite bank. The constant babbling of
the water tumbling over rocks and pebbles made it hard for Nidan to
hear anything more than a stone's throw away. Kiana looked like she
was on the verge of tears. She didn’t cry. She just clenched her
teeth in a determined fashion and stared fixedly ahead.

“
Tell me about
your family,” she said suddenly. “I know about your sister but… I
just want to… please tell me about your family.”

It was probably close to noon.
Nidan was tired, hot and hungry. The desperation behind her
question took him by surprise and reminded him of the first time he
had met her. Less than a day had gone past. It felt like weeks.

“
My father is a
messenger for the church of Miale. He taught me about tracking
while we travelled together, but that was before I joined the
church of Pios.” Remembering didn’t cheer Nidan up.

Kiana increased her pace. “I don’t
know what my father’s trade is.”

Nidan turned his full attention to
her and immediately saw that her eyes were red and her face was
puffy. Her hands were tightly clenched.

“
I don’t remember
my parents at all,” she said in a quieter voice, bowing her head.
“The only family I’ve ever known are dead. Why do the Wolves hate
me so much?” She sobbed and stared at him with desperate eyes
filled with tears.

Nidan drew in a deep breath and
shook his head. He couldn’t answer her question. No one knew why a
Wolf had killed Miale a thousand years earlier. Since then, the
goddess had been trapped in a mortal body. Living. Dying. Being
reborn.

“
I didn’t ask to
be the incarnation of Miale.” Kiana stopped and pressed her fists
to her eyes. “Is it wrong of me to hate the fact that I
am?”

Nidan pulled her into an embrace,
allowing her to weep into his shoulder. He felt tears soaking
through his tunic again. Her sobs were more desperate than they had
been the previous night and were completely unrestrained. He hoped
that the babbling of the river and the occasional cry of birds
would hide the sound of her grief.

Kiana pulled away and used her
dirty sleeve to wipe her eyes and cheeks. “I’m sorry.” Her tone was
oddly formal. She looked away from him. “I shouldn’t be ashamed of
what I am, much less hate it.”

“
It’s all
right…”

Kiana shook her head. “No, it
isn’t. I have been blessed. I shouldn’t be acting like a
child."

“
Kiana…”

She ignored him and began walking
again. “And it isn’t my fault that Marcas and the others are dead.
The Wolves did that because they are consumed by hate. It wasn’t my
fault.” She drew in a shaky breath. “Besides, this isn’t the time
to grieve. Not when we’re still in so much danger.”

Nidan stared after her.
There has to be something I can say.
But no words came to him.

*

Skaric welcomed the dark shadows
that were starting to stretch through the forest; they were a
welcome relief from the torture of the sun. Was that why Berend had
ordered him to go on patrol? Did the war leader want to see him
squirm? Throughout the afternoon, Skaric had clenched the horse’s
reins to stop himself from scratching his itching skin; his need
was made worse by Berend’s proximity to him. All the time, Berend
was watching, scrutinising and silently accusing him.

Several deer trails cut through
the forest, making it was easy to find routes for the horses.
Overhead, the canopy was thick but dappled light still streamed
through, creating shimmering pockets of light. It was almost
beautiful, almost peaceful.

Until the sounds of other Wolves
moving through the forest reached Skaric’s ears. None of them were
making any effort to be quiet. It was in the moments when he
couldn’t hear boots breaking twigs that he realised how eerily
silent the forest was. There were no birds chirping, no rodents
rustling, and the deer had all fled as soon as they had sensed the
presence of Wolves the day before. The only sound he heard was the
delicate rustle of the breeze disturbing the leaves above his head
and the thump thump of two sets of hooves. Sometimes, the horses
stumbled over a stone that clicked against their hooves or snapped
a twig, but there were no other natural sounds, not even the sound
of the river.

They had found no sign of Miale,
only the myriad of tracks created by Wolves on foot or on
horseback, which had resulted in the forest floor becoming a
churned up mess.

“
This is
hopeless.” Skaric frowned and chewed on his lower lip as he
realised they were approaching the same twisted tree for the fourth
time since setting out from the tower. The thick trunk rose to half
a man’s height and then split in two. Both sections spread out
almost horizontally in opposite directions before curving up again
and splitting into branches and leaves. The dark bark had been
rubbed off in several places, leaving cream scars; it was probably
a favoured scratching post for the ellusive deer.

“
Yes, it is.”
Berend jabbed on the left rein to force his horse to turn abruptly
so that he was facing Skaric. “But you know we aren’t really out
here to look for Miale, don’t you?”

Skaric’s mouth suddenly became dry
as Vali’s words flooded back into his mind. He tried to dismiss
them. Berend could have killed him at any point during the
afternoon, but he hadn’t.

“
It would have
been better if father had punished me.” Skaric looked up in time to
see a thoughtful expression cross Berend's face, but the war leader
said nothing. “Anyone else would have been.” He had seen men lashed
or hung for cowardice.

“
Perhaps your
father thinks the pain you endured then and the humiliation you are
feeling now is punishment enough.”

Skaric’s hands tensed, causing his
horse’s head to toss angrily. He quickly dismounted, trusting the
well-trained horse to remain close by, nibbling idly on grass and
twigs. The twisted tree provided a good leaning post for Skaric.
The rough bark pressed through his thin shirt into his back. He
stared up at Berend and focused on calming his breathing,
attempting to hide his emotions. Skaric didn’t want to look more
cowardly than he already did. Emotions were for women—or the
weak-willed followers of Pios and Miale.

Berend dismounted with a thud. He
began to walk towards Skaric, looking down his nose as he spoke.
“You must know how much you have disgraced your father.”

Skaric hunched his shoulders and
bowed his head. Berend began to walk around the tree, never taking
his gaze off Skaric. Skaric’s breath caught in his throat. He
fought against his desire to move; he was already showing enough
weakness as it was.

Berend's hand curled around his
shoulder. Skaric had to stop himself from shivering and twisting
away. His heartbeat increased and he felt slightly
light-headed.

“
I need you to
help me understand something, Skaric.”

Skaric curled his hands around the
thick branch. Sweat was beginning to make his hands slippery.

“
When you were
healed…”

“
I didn’t make a
deal with Pios.” Skaric closed his eyes briefly. The speed of his
response had made him sound guilty.

Berend laughed but at the same
time, he tightened his grip on Skaric’s shoulder. “I had heard that
rumour.”

Skaric clenched his teeth and
cursed the frailty of his body, compared to the strength of
Berend’s. His shoulder was aching under the war leader’s grasp.

“
However…”

Skaric held his breath,
waiting.

“
The Guardians
aren’t completely stupid. Certainly not stupid enough to believe
that you would let one go in return for healing you."

Skaric couldn’t force words into
his mouth. No one was stupid enough to expect mercy from a
Wolf.

“
Did you know
that I was the one to find you?”

Skaric’s eyes widened. He shook
his head.

“
Of course, you
didn’t. You were unconscious. Do you know what else I
found?”

Skaric stared directly ahead.

“
Two sets of
footsteps, leading away from you.”

Skaric felt himself shaking.
Berend’s grip on his shoulder tightened again.

“
The tracks
belonged to a man and woman. There wasn’t the body of a Guardian
anywhere near you.”

Skaric whimpered softly as
Berend’s fingertips sunk into the flesh around his shoulder joint.
“I dragged myself away… I tried to return to the battle, but my
strength failed me and I blacked out.” His lie was unraveling and
he felt powerless to stop it.

“
I think you’re
lying, Skaric.”

Skaric shook his head defiantly.
“I’m not!”

The
memory of the compassion in Miale’s amber eyes slipped back into
Skaric’s mind. He couldn’t block it out. There had been more
compassion in that one look than he had felt in his entire
lifetime.
Curse
her
.

He heard the whisper of metal
being drawn across leather. He couldn’t move or think. Suddenly, he
felt Berend’s warm breath against his ear and face.

“
Despite all your pathetic lies, you are right about one thing:
you
should
be punished.”

No
. Skaric lurched round,
wrenching his shoulder from Berend’s grasp and swung his clenched
fist at the war leader’s face. The bones in Skaric’s knuckles
crunched as his fist impacted against Berend’s jaw. Pain flowed
through his fist, eclipsed by a sharp throbbing sensation in his
side. He choked on pain and glanced down to see a dagger protruding
from his torso. The hilt was already slick with blood. His
blood.

Berend stumbled back, wrenching
the dagger cruelly from Skaric’s side as he did so. The war leader
used his off-hand to nurse his jaw while he opened his mouth wide,
testing the joint.

“
There’s only one
way you can beat me,” Berend said, staring at Skaric.

Magic. Skaric bit his lower lip,
trying to block out the pain that was smothering his thoughts. He
could feel the warmth of blood trickling down his side and leg. He
tried to open his left hand, but the broken fingers refused to
respond.

Berend began to laugh. Energy
flowed around Skaric’s body, lending him a strength he had never
believed he was capable of. Anger fuelled Skaric’s actions as he
ignored the pain in his fingers and punched the war leader in the
face again. The blow impacted on Berend's nose with a sickening
crunch. Blood smeared across the war leader’s face. Berend dropped
to his knees. Siezing the opportunity, Skaric slammed his foot onto
the war leader’s hand. Pain tore through his side. He fought
through it and applied pressure until Berend released the dagger.
Skaric quickly kicked it away.

“
Did my father
order this, or are you acting alone?”

Berend laughed even harder as he
stood. Skaric failed to see the punch until it hit him. Pain
slammed into his face, knocking him off his feet. He landed hard on
his back, gasping. Loose dirt billowed up in a cloud, making him
cough as it settled in his nose and mouth. Winded and with the
wound in his side hurting ever more fiercely, Skaric could only
stare as the war leader moved with frightening speed. He cried out
as Berend's knee thrust into his stomach, robbing him of his
breath. Then Berend's hands curled tightly around his throat,
slowly squeezing the life from him.

Skaric choked as he clawed
desperately at Berend’s hands. They were painfully strong and he
was pathetically weak in comparison. Berend was still laughing; the
sound cut through Skaric’s mind like a knife.

“
Did… my… father…
order… this…?”

Berend responded by tightening his
grip on Skaric’s throat. He dug his knee deeper into Skaric’s gut.
Bile rose up into Skaric’s mouth. He couldn’t breathe. Or choke. Or
swallow. He slammed his right palm into Berend's already broken
nose and applied as much pressure as he could. The mocking
expression on Berend's face was replaced by one of anger, and a
hint of the pain he must have been feeling crept into his eyes.