Chasers of the Wind

8

The krylgzan twitched his large, damp nose from side to side and shivered. He caught a scarcely perceptible scent weaving its way through the smells of early morning, fresh grass, and blooming strawberries. It was so desirable and enticing. The wind ripped through it, changing it into a phantom, and if he didn’t rush in pursuit of it, all traces would fade away.

Not hesitating, the beast unfolded his wings and flew upward in search of his elusive prey. Awoken after his five-year slumber, the krylgzan wanted to eat. He flew over the forest, amassing the venom in his jaws. As he flew over a large, marshy lake, he flushed out a fawn, but he didn’t let himself get sidetracked by it. The prey that the creature planned to take was far more worthy.

He had to travel more than eight leagues before he reached his goal. First the intensely sweet, deliriously tantalizing, pleasantly hot smell of fresh meat struck his nose. And then he saw eight tiny specks moving in a line down a forest road.

There were six quadrupeds, warm and trembling—horses. And six bipeds, tender and sweet—humans. But the last two were strange, with an unpleasant smell. He’d never encountered the like. At any other time the krylgzan would have exhibited caution before attacking them, but his hunger was far too great. Besides, how could these land-dwellers harm him?

The krylgzan was so focused on his choice of victims that he did not immediately see the village beyond the forest. But when he did, even the beast’s wings quivered with anticipation. So much meat! He hadn’t known there was so much food in these lands. It was a good thing that he’d left his old nest and flown here. Of course, the flight had taken all his strength, and he’d have to sleep for a long time, but he was about to eat his fill. First he’d eat the riders and then he might drag some of the human cubs from the large wooden nest on the shores of the river.

The beast selected his first victim. He would grab it before the others had time to come to their senses and understand what was attacking them. And then he’d spit his venom and kill the horse. And perhaps, if he was lucky, another rider as well.

The krylgzan folded his wings and plunged through the air like a stone. The black specks grew larger by leaps and bounds. While he was falling, something buzzed past him. Unfortunately for him, he ignored it, and the second shot was more accurate. A painful sting struck him in the chest. The pain spread.

The beast shrieked, spread his wings, causing him to slow down, and displayed his dreadful talons, threatening to rip his tormentor to shreds and—another four arrows found their target. The krylgzan, out of his mind from pain, spat venom without aiming. A wing exploded with pain, and it became hard to hold himself up in the air. With difficulty, he changed the direction of his flight, thinking of only one thing—flying away from here as quickly as possible. But when he passed over the tops of the spruces, they hit him again, this time in the eye, and the beast slammed into a tree trunk, breaking his wings. He fell to the ground and collapsed into a heap, convulsing fitfully.

Tia drew up her reins, a disinterested expression on her face, which hadn’t so much as twitched during the unexpected attack. Quite unlike her fellow travelers. Those idiots, stuffed into the black armor of the Nabatorian King’s Guard, had soiled their trousers the instant they were called upon to deal with something more dangerous than swords or spears. And they were supposed to protect her? The girl was sure that Tal’ki had been joking when she advised her to take an escort with her. Her Shay-za’n were far more useful than the guardsmen.

“Don’t bother, Sha-kho,” she said in a soft voice. “Don’t waste arrows on carrion. It’ll die anyway.”

The ancient Shay-za’n with the six violet feathers in his hair put his serrated arrow back in his quiver.

“As you say, my lady.” His soft voice sounded like the rustling of leaves. “It was circling above us. It may have wanted meat, but my brother and I killed it.”

“You did well. I’m pleased with you.”

This small praise was enough to cause both the old and the young Shay-za’n to rise up a yard and a half from the ground.

She slipped gracefully from the saddle.

“Lady,” said a gray, whiskered veteran. “That monster is still dangerous. I wouldn’t advise—”

“Did I ask you for your advice?” she asked coldly.

The captain choked and bit his tongue. His inferiors pretended they had heard nothing. The battle-hardened soldiers may not have outright feared the girl, but they were wary of her. They’d heard all sorts of stories about her callous nature.

At first glance, Tia looked no more than nineteen. She was of average height, lithe, with an excellent figure and a beautiful face. Her slanted, brown eyes, her perfectly straight nose, and her plump lips suggested ancient blood. Her black hair, which was twisted into two complicated braids, and her golden skin were the inheritance passed on to her by her mother, a southerner.

Her split skirt was dusty from the long road, and she wore suede boots with pointed heels, a man’s white shirt with a sharp collar, and a lady’s vest of a warm color that matched her skin.

She wore no adornment but a necklace made of tiny brown shells. She carried no weapons of any kind. There was nothing at all threatening about this girl. But the five Nabatorians and the two who were usually called Burnt Souls in the Empire obeyed her without question.

The krylgzan finally stopped wheezing, snapping its jaws and spitting its yellow, foamy saliva, and died.

“Check yourselves,” she said, not raising her voice. “If there’s any venom on your clothing or weapons, discard them. Sha-kho, follow me.”

Accompanied by the taciturn Shay-za’n, she walked over to the corpse. The krylgzan aroused her curiosity. These creatures lived far to the south, where the Boxwood Mountains turned into the impassable Cloudy Peaks. At the very edge of the earth. These beasts frequented the lands of the Empire even more rarely than they did those of Nabator and Sdis. This made the encounter all the more wondrous.

Trying not to step in the drops of poison, Tia walked around the body. She thought that Tal’ki would sell her soul for the beast’s poisonous fangs. She grinned balefully—she would not lift a finger to extract the priceless treasure from the jaws of the monster. She had no need of it. And she wasn’t about to bend over for Tal’ki’s sake. If the old crone wants it, let her come here herself and mess about with the corpse.

Of late, her mood had left much to be desired, and with good cause. When the Herald had appeared before her, she was many leagues away, traveling toward Leigh in Rovan’s company. Leigh had gotten mired in the Isthmuses of Lina and was in urgent need of help. The Herald had overturned all her plans, and she had to turn back quickly. The mad round-the-clock dash, constantly changing horses, the bad food, and the stupidity of her companions were driving her out of her mind.

When she had returned to the Towers, Mitifa was still hanging about, doggedly digging through the library of the Walkers. The stupid bitch had gotten it into her head that she could unravel the secrets of the Paths of Petals. It would be lovely to be able to travel great distances in an instant. It would solve a mass of logistical problems in a single stroke, but Mitifa was getting nowhere. She didn’t have enough brains to find the key to the Sculptor’s creation or to Sorita’s (a Mother of the Walkers. She died during the Dark Revolt, battling against the Damned) final incantation. Only Ginora could have wrestled with such a problem, but her bones had been lying in the Marshes of Erlika for a long time now. However, Mitifa did not realize that her efforts were doomed to failure. She fell greedily upon the old archives, and she’d been gnawing on them for more than a week with no results. Tia hated that fool with all her soul. Of course, if sworn to tell the truth, she would say she had no love for any of her associates. And she didn’t trust any of them. It was really only Tal’ki who deserved to have her advice listened to and even sometimes, under rare circumstances, followed. But the girl did not harbor any delusions about the Healer. As soon as she got the chance, the old hag would be the first to sell Tia off piece by piece.

Regardless of the wearisome journey, there were a few good things that had come from the Herald’s appearance. First, she got out from under Rovan’s intrusive regard, but more important, Leigh’s. That pair couldn’t hinder her now. Second, if the man who found the carrier of the Gift was not mistaken, and if she was able to get the spark under her control, her strength would increase. And that would be very good. Forever playing second string was becoming tiresome.

Tia leisurely walked back to her horse and mounted it. Her companions wisely kept their peace.

The small procession once again set off down the road.

Her bodyguards kept looking at the sky, but the girl did not bother to explain to them that a second krylgzan was unlikely to appear in these parts for another hundred years. Definitely no sooner than that. Right now, all she wanted was to be away from these people. She ached to rid herself of her dusty clothes, redolent of sweat, crawl into a hot herbal bath, and sit there until the end of time. And she wouldn’t say no to a pretty little servant girl washing her back, either.

The forest fell away to the sides and the road, briskly running past wildly colorful bushes, descended a hill toward a bridge. Not far from the standing stone, the road forked. One fork climbed a low hill, while the second swerved sharply to the west, cut across the valley, and once again plunged into the forest. Toward Al’sgara. Not far from this road, construction was fast under way. They’d already managed to erect one tower and the western wall of a fort, a large barracks, and two observation towers. There was also construction going on near the hill. They were raising the foundation of the future command post and fortifying the road on either side. At the crest of the hill was another tower.

The group encountered a checkpoint patrol—five riders armed with swords and light bows.

“What fate brings you to this hellhole?” one of the patrolmen greeted Gry.

No one paid attention to Tia. Sha-to and his brother were far more interesting. Most Nabatorians still hadn’t gotten used to that race.

“Who’s the commander?” demanded Gry.

“Captain Nai,” said the patrolman, instantly pulling himself together in his saddle.

“Take us to him,” said Tia with a smile.

The astonished soldier peered at the King’s Guardsman, but he was unperturbed. The rider proved himself a clever man and luckily did not ask why he should follow the commands of some girl.

“Yes, my lady.”

Tia squinted her eyes against the intense morning sunlight. Her mood was improving. The long journey had come to an end, even if Dog Green wasn’t all that impressive. True, the girl hadn’t really expected otherwise. It was a village, like any other village. There were thousands like it in the world. She only hoped she’d be able to find a bath.

A strong, solid gallows stood just outside the little village. It consisted of two columns, a crossbar, and five reeking corpses. Tia frowned. What a nasty habit, leaving such filth around. Once they’d executed them, they should have buried them before they started to stink. This was exactly like Rovan’s attitude toward execution, and she hated him for it. That maggot, for all his luck and usefulness to the cause, had suffered from a virulent depravity from a very young age—an irrepressible urge to surround himself with dead bodies. He tortured people with cause and without, and afterward he enthusiastically added their heads to the little decorative stockade that surrounded his tent so he could inhale the perfume of their decomposition in the weeks that followed. Tia hated Rovan. She did not understand how such a brute could be born from the same mother as Retar.

“Take those corpses down,” she said in a low voice. “Right now.”

“But, my lady, we should stay with you,” Gry tried to object.

“Nothing is going to happen to me. However…” She thought for a second and then came to a decision. “You can stay.”

A soldier riding ahead of them overheard this conversation and nearly fell from his saddle. Was this a joke? Were the warriors of His Majesty’s Black Guard really going to become gravediggers on the whim of some wench?

Stopping at the inn, Tia nimbly slid from her saddle and stretched. She thought that if Mitifa really did succeed in animating the Paths of Petals, she would be the first to thank her. Traveling in such a manner would be far easier than by horse.

After the long stint in the saddle she felt like an old woman, and only a bath could save her.

Melot be damned if she was not ready to kill for one.

Tossing her reins to Gry, the girl walked into the inn. The common room was bright, spacious, and clean. And it smelled good. Tia felt cheered. The chances of getting a bed without bedbugs had risen sharply.

A tall, bulky village boy was sitting on the floor next to the potbellied wine barrels. Judging by his face, he was a half-wit. Once he saw Tia, he forgot all about his shaf and gaped at her in shock as if he’d never seen a woman before. Ignoring the lustful gaze of the nitwit, she walked over to a table where five officers were sitting. As she walked she commanded the innkeeper, who had appeared in front of her, “A room. Your best. And a hot bath.”

“But my lady!” he said, startled. “There are no spare rooms.”

“Gentlemen, which one of you is Captain Nai?” she asked the officers calmly.

“I don’t know why you’re looking for me, but I am entirely at your service, gorgeous,” said a young, black-mustachioed man with a charming smile. “And my friends would be all too happy to make your acquaintance and give you your bath.”

One of the men laughed gleefully, another whistled admiringly, evaluating the beauty of the nameless girl.

“Where have you been hiding from us all this time?” asked a stout, balding man, laughing. Judging by the ribbons on his sleeve, he was the commander of the archers.

“Can’t you see, she’s not a local. She doesn’t look like the village maids,” said another soldier, and then he took a sip of his shaf.

“You’re right. Nai, let me be the first to get acquainted with this beautiful stranger.”

The officer stood and grabbed Tia by the waist.

“Come on then.”

She mockingly raised her eyebrows and smiled thinly.

“Remove your hand.”

“Oho!” chuckled Nai. “What an uppity lass!”

“I like that even more.” The hands on the girl’s waist squeezed even tighter. “Arrogant whores are such a rarity.”

If Alenari were in Tia’s place, she would kill the bumpkin for such unbridled behavior. Mitifa would have ripped off his arms without thinking twice. Tal’ki would chat with him amicably, and then she would come up with some perfect punishment. However, it’s unlikely the officer would hit on the old hag. He amused Tia so greatly that she decided not to punish him. She’d let Gry, who at that very moment was walking into the inn, do it.

The captain, who had been entrusted to safeguard the lady against any kind of trespass, instantly grasped the situation. His fist, vested in a glove with metal bars across the knuckles, slammed into the face of the impudent man and threw him backward. The officers began yelling indignantly; they jumped up and seized their weapons, and only then did they take the time to examine the new arrival. A stunned silence enveloped them. Even the officer with the broken jaw stopped swearing.

“Thank you, Gry.” Tia thought it fitting to show the man some gratitude.

She reached out her hand and her bodyguard immediately gave her a document. The girl never scorned using such documents. Now and again a few official signatures and seals worked far more effectively than any magic. The girl passed the document to Nai.

Frowning blackly, he opened the leather case, dropped it on the table without looking at it, and spread out the paper. He read it and his face instantly paled. When his ability to speak returned to him, he said, trying not to look her in the eyes, “Forgive me, my lady, for this misunderstanding. We all offer you our apologies for such improper behavior toward you and are prepared to accept the punishment we deserve.”

“Hmmm…” She wrinkled her charming little nose. “I like that you know how to acknowledge your mistakes. That’s a good quality. Just refrain from making the same mistake in the future. Try to find me a room and a bath. I also think that Gry and his men would not say no to a decent meal.”

“Yes, my lady. I would be happy if you would take my rooms. Allow me to accompany you.”

“I’ll allow it,” she agreed graciously.

“Innkeeper! A hot bath! Now!” bellowed the captain and, gesturing that she should follow him, rushed up the wide oak staircase that led to the second floor.

“Where is the necromancer?” Tia asked casually when the Nabatorian opened the door for her.

“Somewhere in the village. Or near the fort.”

“I want to see him. Right away.”

“I’ll search for him personally, my lady.”

“As soon as you find him, send him to me. Don’t delay.”

After saying these words she entered the room, dropped her vest onto a chair, and stretched languidly.

Just as Luk had assumed, in the morning the miller and his sons came and started working at the mill. They set the stones spinning, began bringing in sacks of grain and leaving with sacks of prepared flour. At first the soldier was nervous but after a short while he realized that the locals had no business up in the attic. He relaxed and even slept for another hour. Then he had a substantial breakfast, and Ga-Nor told him that they had noticed the absence of the men he’d killed and concealed in the river. They were checking adjacent houses and combing through the nearby forest.

“It’s a good thing we came here. I wasn’t sure they wouldn’t find us. Oho! Take a look at our new visitors!”

Luk brushed the crumbs from his palms and, trying to keep his head down, looked out the window.

A group of riders were descending down the hill on the road. In the middle of the soldiers was a woman, and right behind her followed two creatures that the guard easily recognized as Burnt Souls.

“Screw a toad! We need to get out of here,” he moaned in fear.

“Don’t fall apart from panic,” snapped the Son of the Snow Leopard. “If we flee, they’ll hunt us down like rabbits.”

“And if they find us, they’ll besiege us like wolves.”

“Oh, who needs you? No one even knows you exist. And they’re better off for it. Stay where you are. Don’t move.”

“Well, now we’re up the creek with no paddle, my dear friend,” said Luk, a bit too calmly. “We can’t get rid of that bastard so easily.”

Far away on the field, right by the forest where Ga-Nor had come across the Nabatorian ambush, stood a man dressed in white.

The Sdisian checked the spot three times and did not find a single sign of struggle. The three idiots had disappeared without a trace. The grass was lying flat, but that always happens when three healthy men sit in one place for several hours.

The necromancer was not too concerned about the missing soldiers. Even if another twenty soldiers had gone missing this morning, he usually would have ignored it completely. But today the boredom of inaction had made him a bit touchy, and this was at least a diversion. That was what made it worth investigating.

The men had been missed early in the morning when their relief arrived at the ambush and did not find their comrades in the usual place. They immediately informed Captain Nai about the incident, and he sent fifty men out to search for them. As one would expect, nothing came of it. The search parties hunted through the village and even poked around the forest, but they didn’t find any trace. It was as if the ground had swallowed the three of them whole. Where could the idiots have gone? There was forest all around, you could never scramble your way through it. They’d never approached the road, that’s for sure. The patrols didn’t see anyone.

It didn’t look like murder; there were no tracks for two dozen yards around. There should be something left behind. Trampled grass, blood, a body, something at least! Unless of course someone fell on them from the sky, grabbed them by the back of the neck and carried them off. The sorcerer didn’t believe in such things. There weren’t any creatures in these lands that could do such a thing. He still hadn’t solved the riddle after half an hour’s search. Of course, he could use his magic and check if there was an echo of their souls, which always appeared after people’s deaths. But the incantations would require such an expenditure of strength that… these missing sheep simply weren’t worth it. Giving up all hope of finding a rational explanation for the strange and entirely unexpected disappearance, the necromancer pursed his lips in disappointment and, leaning on his staff, headed back toward the village.

A rider was galloping over the field toward him at full tilt. The Sdisian squinted and recognized Captain Nai.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!” cried the Nabatorian as he reined in his horse.

“And what do you require of me on this fine day?”

“A… lady… is waiting for you.”

“Really?” He instantly realized who he was talking about. Praise be to the dark gods. His Herald had been taken seriously. And that meant that the tedious waiting had come to an end. He wondered which of the Overlords had answered his summons. At any rate, regardless of who it was, he would now find out if Ann had the Gift or if it was all for nothing. “Has she been waiting long?”

“About half an hour, I’d say. She’s in my room. She said that you should go to her immediately.”

“Give me your horse.”

“Of course.”

The sorcerer did not hesitate to leap into the saddle.

“Well? Have you calmed down? He didn’t find anything,” said Ga-Nor when the necromancer disappeared among the houses. “You always get so panicky.”

“Look who’s talking. Screw a toad, but you’re no less frightened than I am.”

The northerner snorted into his mustache.

“I’d really like to know where that Sdisian was rushing off to,” he said instead of replying.

“Well, at least he wasn’t rushing off for your soul.”

“Who knows. Who knows. I’m beginning to think it would have been better if we’d slogged our way through the forest to Al’sgara like you suggested at first. Dog Green can go to the Abyss! It’s not enough that there are Nabatorians here, but a real live necromancer has to show up as well! I don’t like it. The dogs weren’t howling for nothing. I can smell it—trouble is brewing.”

And again the Son of the Snow Leopard fell silent, but by his eyes it was clear that he shared the fears of his companion.

The sorcerer stopped by the door, obviously nervous. He tugged at his robes, trying to make the folds fall neatly. Then he smoothed out the links of his belt and adjusted his saber. It wouldn’t do to appear before the Overlord looking unkempt. He was about to knock on the door, but he was forestalled.

“Enter, Elect, enter. Don’t stand on the threshold.”

There was mockery in the woman’s voice. The necromancer pushed the door open, took two steps in, got to one knee, and fixed his gaze onto the floor. His left hand was on his staff. His right was held over his heart. It was the ritual obeisance of an Elect before an Overlord.

“If you’d be so kind, drop the niceties and close the door. It’s cold.”

He was startled, but he did exactly as he was asked, keeping his eyes on the floor the entire time. When he was done he raised his eyes and then instantly shifted them back to the toes of his own boots.

Tia gave a quiet snicker. “I asked you to leave convention at the door. Look. I permit it.”

She was sitting in a bronze bathtub with her back to him. Two dark braids were entwined around her head and held in place with diamond bobby pins. Bronzed skin, narrow shoulders, elegant neck. Everything else was concealed by soapy foam.

He couldn’t see her face, but he didn’t need to. The sorcerer knew who was before him. One of the Overlords, Lady Tia. The Flames of Sunset, as the races of the Great Waste called her.

It was she who bore the alias Typhoid in the Empire.

“Speak.”

“I found a woman. She may have the Gift.”

“May? A bad word. If I’ve had to travel so far just for may, I will be quite irritated.” Steely overtones slipped into her voice. “Continue.”

“As soon as I entered the village, I felt the echoes of the use of the Gift.”

“Very interesting. And you didn’t think this might be a mistake?”

“I did, my lady. And before I sent the Herald to you, I tried to check for myself. She is not a Walker. Perhaps she is a prodigy, although I couldn’t feel anything from her. Either I am mistaken or she is very discreet.”

“Or we’re dealing with a real natural if an Elect cannot read her. Is she still in the village?”

Tia had not glanced at her companion a single time over the course of this conversation.

“Yes. I put her under house arrest.”

“Then why is the peasant still somewhere else? Bring her. Let’s have a look at your find.”

“She’ll be before you within half an hour.”

The Damned waved her hand, allowing the sorcerer to leave, closed her eyes, and blissfully stretched out in the bathtub.