Witch Bane (12 page)

“
Yet she is still dead!”

“
By treachery and deceit born of the
same women I would ask you to fight against,” Elizabeth countered.
“In time we could storm Cor—”

“
In time?” Sebastian countered, his
voice grumbling low in his throat. “I have lived with my father
telling me since I was just a child, of the cowardly betrayal of
the witches who stormed my mother’s birthing room moments after I
was born. They killed her as she lay there powerless, still reeling
from my birth, and you want me to wait even longer for a chance at
redemption?” He drew in a deep breath through clenched teeth. “I
have waited as long as I am able, and I’ve no doubt my father has
far exceeded his patience, the witches still alive these last
nineteen years longer than they deserve. I will also not help you
breed an army of warlocks to throw against the Council so they
might claim more of my kind’s blood, and I will not help you fight
your war. I have my own to worry about.”

His cheeks searing with the heat of his
anger, Sebastian turned away.

“
Our enemy is the same,” Elizabeth
said behind him, her words quiet. He felt her draw closer. “If you
will not join us then at least offer us some hope for the future.”
Her hand slid along his shoulder, her fingertips trailing down his
neck, prickling the hair at his nape. “Your mother was an amazing
power, and I am certain that potential rests in you, as well. Do
not let it die there in a foolish quest for revenge you cannot hope
to achieve. Share it with me.” She turned Sebastian toward her.
“Give me your seed so your child might grow to oppose the Council
as you do.”

“
You speak of a person, not some
resource to be plundered,” Darius cut in.

“
This is—” she started.

Sebastian removed her hand, casting it
aside. “This is
over
.” He met
her eyes, all his fury buried in the cold grave of his will. His
father had been right to hide in the wastes, far from the
machinations of humanity. He usually was, Sebastian realized. He
laughed to think of how many times he’d argued with Darius only to
learn that simple fact. “I thank you for tending my wounds and for
your hospitality. You are right that we have the same enemy, but we
do not share the same cause nor do we have the same passion. I wish
you the best and hope you can make something of the ruin I plan to
leave in my wake.” He turned and strode over to Darius. He could
see the hint of a smile on his father’s lips, and even through his
rage, it made him proud to see it.

“
I understand your desire, Sebastian.
I, too, would love to see the witches who murdered your mother pay
for their crime, but I have other obligations.” She gestured to the
camp. “If you survive your mission, come back to us and help build
a nation. You would be a great leader, like your mother was.” She
sighed. “Take what you need from our stores, and feel welcome to
remain in camp until it grows light. I—”

A young boy rushed up to Elizabeth, his
breath labored. “Elizabeth. The scouts, they’ve found her.”

She waved him to silence, her eyes darting
to Sebastian and Darius. The boy’s gaze followed. She stood quiet
as the messenger shuffled uncomfortably. After a long moment, she
sighed and nudged the messenger to go on. “Tell me.”

The boy looked to Elizabeth, staying silent
until she nodded again for him to speak. He turned to glance at
Sebastian and Darius before returning his gaze to Elizabeth. “There
were rumors the Red Witch accompanied her soldiers into the field.
One of our men has spied her, proving the rumor true.” He smiled
wide. “Her and two squadrons of Red Guard were seen on the march
less than thirty miles from here, headed our direction.” He pointed
off into the woods.

Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat, his breath
cold in his chest.

“
So close?” Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed.
“We must not be here when she arrives.” She looked to Sebastian.
“My people are not yet ready to face the witches. If you would
taste a piece of your revenge, the time is now.” She ordered the
young man to gather everyone together. He ran off to comply. “I
must make arrangements for us to flee, but I wish you well,
Sebastian. Look for us should you make it through.” Elizabeth
nodded her farewell and drifted off toward the bustling sounds by
the fire, the camp preparing to move.

Sebastian turned to his father. “A ploy of
some kind?”

Darius shrugged. “Perhaps, but it doesn’t
matter. Elizabeth has every reason to want the Red Witch dead. She
loses nothing by sending you after her, yet gains much. Should you
succeed, she has aimed the weapon and can claim your victory as her
own. Should you be slain, you have given her people time to find a
new hideaway and she loses none of her own in the attempt.”

Sebastian groaned. “So, despite it all, I’m
still her pawn.”

“
Get used to it, boy. This is what
warriors do.” His father grinned wide and set a hand on his
shoulder. He turned him toward the woods where the messenger boy
had pointed. “You are a young man who has made his father proud
this night.” He gave a gentle squeeze. “We came to slay witches and
the opportunity has presented itself, so let’s be about it.” Darius
strode toward the trees.

A whistling sigh slipped loose as Sebastian
followed after. The moment he’d been waiting for now upon him, he
whispered to the spirit of his mother. Though he had no belief in
the One, he knew if the god truly existed, his mother would be at
his side. He hoped she could hear his words.

He would have justice soon, or they would be
reunited in the afterlife.

Twelve

Headed straight toward the enemy, Sebastian
and Darius stuck to the thickest stretches of forest they found
along their path. While the Red Witch and her minions swept the
woods, likely looking for the resistance, they knew soldiers would
scour the skies as well.

The men in the trees would stand out, the
Council having never learned the lesson of subtlety. No matter the
mission, the Red Guard wore their traditional armor, stained in the
color of blood. There would be no missing them amidst the browns
and greens of the forest. They were an army trained for the open
field, their numbers their advantage. The transports, however,
would come in fast, appearing above them before the Griffins gave
them away. They were the biggest threat…until the witch
arrived.

Sebastian and Darius had taken up parallel
tracks as they moved, staying close enough to see each other yet
far enough to hope that if they encountered the Red Guard, only one
might be spotted, leaving the other to come to his aid. While they
had plunged ahead early on, their excitement driving them forward,
they had since slowed their pace. It would do them no good to
stumble across a scouting party unaware, surprise the only factor
still in their favor.

Sebastian crept forward, his eyes scanning
the trees, occasionally darting to check the canopy and the skies
above. He reached out to push aside a tangle of brush when a sound
caught his ear. He signaled to Darius and ducked where he stood,
noting that his father had already dropped to the ground. His
breath still in his lungs, Sebastian listened. Right away he heard
the rustle of movement a ways ahead. It moved their direction.

Darius drew his sword and slid the
blade beneath the leaves and humus at his feet to keep the steel
from reflecting. Sebastian unsheathed his own weapon but held it
behind the trunk of the tree he squatted near. His mercurial sword
was unreflective, but still he did not wish it to be seen. The two
waited while the sounds grew nearer, Sebastian picking out the
slow
clop
of horses as they
picked their way through the crowded trees. Though he couldn’t see
the riders, it was unlikely to be the witches’ soldiers. They
rarely used mounts outside of the griffins. Given the casual pace
of those approaching, as well as the path they’d chosen through the
thick of the forest, it was more likely to be bandits or wealthy
travelers. Both could be a problem were they to see Sebastian and
his father lurking in the woods.

Sebastian sunk lower as the horses drew
nearer. His father signaled he would sweep to the left, leaving the
right for Sebastian. He followed with the hold command to ensure
Sebastian knew to wait on his father to decide their course of
action. Once Darius disappeared behind the foliage, Sebastian
drifted off the other direction. He stayed low until he found a
spot the riders were sure to pass, and dropped down behind a thick
trunk to wait. It didn’t take long.

The first broke through the obscuring
branches, the broad head of a warhorse leading the way. It pushed
its way forward, picking its path with surefooted certainty. The
man in the saddle seemed at ease atop the massive beast. His face
was tanned and weather-beaten, long gray hair tied down his back.
He wore a simple brown tunic with no insignia, which hung loose
about him, clearly to hide the bulk of the leather cuirass beneath.
A broadsword hung at his left side, marking him as right-handed.
The scabbard was worn and aged, the same as the man himself, but
the pommel of the blade shined in the dim light. If his posture
hadn’t given him away, the care of his weapon would have. Whatever
his profession now, he was a warrior, trained to fight. Given the
circumstances, Sebastian would have guessed bandit was the role the
man currently fell into.

That was until he saw the second rider.

A horse much smaller than the first nudged
its way into the open as it followed in the path of the warhorse.
Atop it sat a tiny slip of a woman, as uncomfortable in the saddle
as the warrior was confident. Sebastian wasn’t sure how old she
was, but he was certain she was young; younger than he, at least by
a number of years. Like the woman in Elizabeth’s camp, she was also
pregnant.

He stared at her belly as it stuck out
against the loose riding blouse she wore, the grimace on her face a
clear indication of how far along she was. Though not ready to
burst, the child had already become a burden to its mother. She
remained quiet, her eyes straight ahead, as she kept pace with the
man in the lead. The last of their party cleared the bushes behind
her.

Astride another warhorse, though obviously
inferior to the first, the man didn’t bother to hide his
predilection. His head was shaved as was the custom of most
soldiers; a bald scalp easier to care for in the field. He wore his
battered leather armor out in the open, and his sword dangled at
his hip. It lacked the care of the first, the metal dull and
unreflective. Sebastian knew then which of the two was the more
dangerous.

Unsure of what his father intended, the
riders not what he had expected, Sebastian waited. He didn’t have
to for long.

Darius stepped from the trees a little way
ahead of the group, his approach open and obvious. He held up his
empty hands as the horses whinnied, and the lead rider called them
to a halt. There was steel in the man’s hand in an instant.

“
Stand aside,” the rider called out as
the second drew alongside the young girl, his eyes surveying the
woods around them. Hers were wide, locked on Darius, her hands
clutching protectively at her stomach.

“
Keep your voice down,” Darius
replied. “We wish you no harm, but the Red Guard stalks these
woods.”

The warrior glared, his gaze slipping
serpentine to the trees. “Who are you?” The words were quieter this
time, but there was no lack of fierceness to them.

“
Just a traveler, and much like you,
stumbling across the unexpected.” His father glanced at the girl,
his question obvious.

“
Our purpose is our own, as is yours.
I’m sure you can respect that.” The man told him, and Darius
nodded, avoiding a challenge. “You spoke of Red Guard in the woods.
What do you know?”

“
That an army marches at your
back.”

The girl’s eyes went wide, her gaze leaping
over her shoulder to look behind.

The lead warrior sighed as if he’d expected
no less. “How many?”

“
It was reported as two squadrons, but
the Red Witch travels with her men.”

“
We must go,” the girl told the
warrior with a cracking voice, her hands entangled in the reins.
She shifted in the saddle.

“
She’s right, Donlen,” the man at the
back agreed.

The warrior revealed to be Donlen growled
low, still looking at Darius. “If what you say is true, then I ask
a fellow traveler to step aside and let us pass. We’ve no quarrel
with you, nor do we want one.”

The sharp snap of griffin wings drew
everyone’s gaze upward. Above the trees the yellowed eyes of the
creature glared down at them as it circled in place, the rider on
its back following its stare. The soldier called out, his voice
answered by the screeching wail of the griffin, its unseen
companions crying out from nearby. The air was suddenly filled with
a legion of their screams.

Donlen said nothing, letting his actions
speak for him. He reached back and tore the reins from the girl’s
hands, kneeing his horse to run. She latched onto the saddle,
terror in her bright eyes as her mare was yanked forward. She
struggled to stay on the horse as it started, one of the griffins
bursting through the canopy toward her. So intent upon their
flight, Donlen did not see the beast’s dive. He continued to pull
her mount on, straight into the creature’s path.

Blocked by the trees and the bulk of the
warhorse, Darius wasn’t in position to help. His crossbow had been
unslung, but he couldn’t loose a bolt without hitting Donlen or the
girl. The bald warrior at the back circled in a panic, his steed
fighting his control and shying away from the griffin.