Jax veered off the road and around a thick oak. “When ebens come out of Darkness, it is for mercenary work. These ebens were well paid.”
Vrell traipsed over the soft moss and spotted Nickel ambling under the low branches of an oak tree. She swallowed. “You mean they were here to kill us?”
“No, boy, they were hired to kill giants. Although they would kill anyone who tried to pass through NaharForest right now.”
“But they are giants.”
Jax took Nickel’s reins and handed them to her, his face hardened. “They were giants, Vrell. Darkness changed them.” He cast his eyes to the sun, as if judging the time. “Now, no more questions. Their battle cries will have alerted their comrades. We must move quickly and quietly. Can you do that?”
“Yes, sir.” Vrell led Nickel back to the road and mounted. Khai was waiting with the other two horses. Vrell urged Nickel slowly up the road as she waited for Jax and Khai to mount. She passed the dead giants on the road and gazed down at one of the massive pale men. His glassy blue eyes stared into the canopy of branches above.
They rode for hours without encountering any more ebens. Vrell hadn’t slept in way too long, but Jax wanted to press on until he felt it was safe to stop.
When they finally did stop, Khai went off hunting on his own.
Jax sat against a tree and removed his black cape. The left arm of his white shirt was matted with blood just above the elbow.
Vrell gasped. “Jax, you are hurt.” She hurried to his side and saw a broken stick protruding from his arm.
“One of their arrows struck me. It’s not bad.”
Vrell lifted the strap of her satchel over her head. “I have been learning the healing trade. May I help?”
Jax smiled. “You may assist. I’ve likely mended more battle wounds than you.”
Vrell knelt beside him and nearly fell over in the deep moss. She settled herself and met Jax’s huge, brown eyes.
His grin warmed her cheeks. “The first thing you must know in treating an arrow wound is what kind of arrow you are dealing with. Best way is to find one and look at it.” Jax shrugged. “I know ebens well. Their arrowheads are barbed obsidian.”
“Yes. I saw one,” Vrell said.
“Barbed arrowheads are harder to remove. It’s best to use something to pry them out with. But mine is not deep. What do you have in your pack?”
Vrell laid out her assortments of herbs and jars. “I have a yarrow salve I made myself.”
Jax beckoned for the jar. She pried off the lid and handed it to him. He took a long sniff and raised his brows. “That will do fine.”
Jax removed the arrowhead easily. Vrell helped him clean the wound and added her salve. He bandaged it with strips from his spare shirt. She listened avidly to his battle tales of how healers worked on wounded soldiers. She found Jax a fountain of wisdom and questioned him on herbs and healing, until Khai wandered up with a dead rabbit.
They made a wonderful meal of the rabbit and Vrell’s mushrooms. Vrell also shared some of her sorrel lettuce with Jax. Khai refused any.
When it was time for sleep, Vrell snuggled into the deep softness of the moss. It was indeed as comfortable as she had imagined. She let her mind wander to the last time she and Bran had been together.
She had met up him at the southwestern vineyard and led him to her special corner, where she had been experimenting with cuttings of a thunbergii mountain vine, hoping to blend it with the local vinifera. Not much had grown yet, but Bran had sat beside her, listening avidly as she’d explained her hopes for the test. She had wanted to—
Vrell Sparrow.
It was her mother, calling out to her again. Vrell was still too afraid to answer. Jax and Khai were awake, murmuring to themselves a few feet away. Had they heard Mother’s call? She pushed the fears from her mind and fell asleep thinking of Bran.
The next morning, Jax shook her awake. She much preferred his gentle hand to Khai’s kick. She rose quickly and they set off on the road, heading south.
“When we come to the King’s Road, we’ll head north,” Jax said.
Vrell pictured the map of Er’Rets in her mind. The King’s Road stretched the length of the kingdom, from Tsaftown in the far north all the way down to Er’Rets Point in the far south. They still had a very long way to travel. If ebens were being paid to keep people from entering XulonForest, all roads would be guarded. This would only lengthen the time she would have to spend with the knights and increase her chances of being discovered. Vrell did not want to be a stray boy anymore.
She wanted to go home.
6
Vrell cowered under the canopy of a leathery fern. Rainwater poured over the edges, but the plant’s vastness offered a semi-dry sanctuary. It also provided camouflage, its orange and red surface blending with Vrell’s tunic. She had been covering her head with her arms for so long they had grown stiff. The patter of rain, screams, grunts, and clanking metal rang out from all sides. She dared not move.
Jax had shoved her under the ferns before lunch, when another group of ebens had attacked. The fighting had only gone on a few moments before some different giants had joined in to help the knights. Yâtsaq giants like Jax, not the pale-skinned ebens. Vrell found the battle sounds petrifying, although they had faded some. The sun sat low on the horizon, squeezing rays of orange light between the thick tree trunks. Had the fighting ended? Now that Jax and Khai had help, would it be over for good?
Something poked her in the back. Vrell jumped inside her skin, then berated herself. She should have played dead.
“Oi! I found one hidin’ in the ferns, Po!” The voice was young and girlish.
Swishing pant legs grew close, and a young boy’s voice said, “Think it’s alive?”
Something poked harder and Vrell twitched.
“You see that?” the girl said.
“Poke it again!”
If her two Kingsguard escorts could fight mercenary giants for weeks on end, Vrell could best a couple of children. She sat up and snatched the stick. “Do you mind?”
Two children stared at her with huge brown eyes and dirty faces to match. At least, they looked like children. Their heads were bigger than normal. The boy matched Vrell in height, the girl nearly so, but their faces were childlike. Both had long hair that hung in braids. The girl had two braids. The boy had three. They both wore leather clothing.
“How old are you?” Vrell asked the boy.
“Eight. Name’s Po. This here is Nina. She’s six.”
Six! They must be giants’ children. Yâtsaq giants, perhaps, since they had black hair and tan skin like Jax.
The girl flashed an insincere smile. “Our pop pop is going to kill your pop pop.”
The statement shocked Vrell, and she looked out from under her fern to see where the knights were. She spotted Jax’s red scarf through the red and brown trees. He was very much alive, swinging two axes and growling.
“He is not my pop pop,” Vrell said. “They are taking me to Mahanaim.”
“Our pop pop lets no one go to Mahanaim without a fight.” Po folded his arms as if he were one of his father’s soldiers. “Most travelers work for the Council, and the Council’s evil.”
“Why do you think the Council is evil?”
“’Cause they tell lies,” Nina said, her large, brown eyes fixated on the stick Vrell had taken from her.
“And they make secret votes, and they work with ebens,” Po said. “Pop Pop says Prince Oren should be king, not the puppet prince.”
Puppet Prince? Vrell straightened. “You mean Prince Gidon?”