Lynan swung the sword over his head for another blow, but Silona had seen Kumul and Ager running toward her, each bearing a brand as well as their own weapons. Her body writhed and her back split open like a seed case. Two huge black wings sprouted, dark flowers against the light of the campfire. The wings came together with a crack and the vampire lifted into the air. The wings flapped a second time and she disappeared into the night.
The four companions stood together, peering into the darkness, but could see nothing of her. A second later they heard a wail of frustration and pain echo through the forest. Lynan’s whole body shuddered, and he collapsed to the ground.
When Lynan came to, it was morning. The fire was still burning brightly, keeping him warm in the chill air. He propped himself onto his elbows and tried looking around, but he felt dizzy and his head fell back with a clunk.
“I don’t know what your skull’s made from,” said an interested female voice behind him, “but it’s tougher than iron.”
His eyes rolled back in their sockets and he saw Jenrosa sitting on the ground.
“I feel terrible,” he managed to say.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it, the collections of cuts, bruises, and bumps our little party has managed to collect since fleeing Kendra. Can you imagine what we’ll be like in a year’s time? Or a decade?”
“Are we still in the forest?”
“Yes, but Ager thinks the border is only one or two hours’ steady walk from here.”
“Where is he?”
“With Kumul, trying their hand at trapping. As soon as they’re back, we’ll move, if you think you’re up to it. I don’t fancy spending another night in Silona’s Forest.”
Lynan shuddered with the memory of last night’s events. He remembered how easily he had been beguiled by the vampire and felt ashamed. “I almost got you killed last night.”
“But you saved my life from the bear, so don’t lose any sleep over it.”
Lynan laughed grimly. “You’re determined to keep behind your fortress walls, aren’t you?”
Jenrosa stood up and brushed off her pants. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Help me up, will you?”
Jenrosa hooked her a hand under one of Lynan’s arms and lifted. He was unsteady on his feet for a few seconds, but soon he could walk around without falling over. He managed to complete a circuit of their camp and was beginning a second when he saw something at his feet. Jenrosa joined him and looked down where he was gazing at a patch of blackened leaf litter and scorched ground.
“That’s just where my brand hit the ground,” she said.
“That’s your brand over there,” he said and pointed to it. He knelt down and stretched out his hand. “See, there’s some—”
“That’s her blood!” Jenrosa cried.
Lynan jerked back as if he had been about to pat a snake. He stared at it, fascinated. “You’re right, it is her blood.”
“Leave it alone, for God’s sake. Haven’t you had enough to do with her?”
Her words made him feel suddenly stubborn. He pulled out his knife.
“What are you doing?”
He ignored her and cut off a triangular section of Roheth’s coat, then used the cloth to scrape up the blood.
“What are you doing?” she insisted.
“A souvenir,” he said, waving the cloth at her. “Besides, I’m sure you’ve heard stories about vampire blood: it’s supposed to have magical properties.”
“What if it helps Silona track you down again?” Jenrosa spat at him.
Lynan hesitated, his face pale. “Do you think… ?” He shook his head. “No. Once we’re out of the forest, we’re free from her.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Silona is a wood vampire. If she leaves her forest, she dies.”
“You don’t know that.”
Lynan put the sample in his coat pocket and stood up. “I’m prepared to risk it.”
Jenrosa spun away from him. “You’re a fool, Lynan. You’ll get us all killed yet.”
Chapter 18
After a week of searching for reasonable billets for his men in Kendra, Captain Rendle found a message from the quartermaster’s office of the Grenda Lear army waiting for him at his inn. All mercenary companies had less than ten days to gather at the port town of Alemura if they expected employment in the coming demonstration against Haxus. Rendle was too experienced a soldier to be disappointed with the vagaries of the military bureaucracy, but he was angry he would lose the deposit he had just laid down for the billets.
He rode out of the city to where his company of mercenary cavalry had camped. He was greeted enthusiastically, his troopers expecting him to bring news that from now on nights would be spent with a proper roof over their heads, plenty of food and wine in their bellies, plenty of women in their beds, and an easy few months of employment at the expense of the new king. What they got were new marching orders and the news that they were to be employed by Grenda Lear’s new queen.
Rendle’s second-in-command, a whip of a man named Eder, asked him what was going on. In a few terse sentences Rendle told him of Berayma’s murder, Areava’s ascension, and Lynan’s outlawry and subsequent drowning.
“I’m not keen on serving under a Kendran queen,” Eder said.
“Nor am I,” Rendle replied brusquely, “not after fighting against the last one in the Slaver War; but for the moment we’ll take her money and salute her pennant. At least until she moves us up north.”
“So we are going to fight Haxus?”
“Not if I have anything to do with it. Haxus always paid better than Grenda Lear.”
Eder smiled thinly. “I think I like the idea of taking coin with both hands; it seems a fairer way of doing things.”
“What about our missing patrol? Any sign of them?”
Eder took him to a tent on the edge of their camp. He opened the flap and Rendle saw jerkins, belts, and knives laid out, all of them covered in damp soil. “One of the scouts I sent back found their graves near a stream about two days’ ride from here. Their horses were nowhere to be seen. They all died from sword wounds.”
Rendle’s jaw clenched in anger. “Where are their swords?”
“None in the graves.”
“And no sign of their attackers?”
“The scout said too many companies like our own had passed that way since. The tracks are all mixed up. He did find two of their mounts wandering alone on Ebrius Ridge.”
“Do the others know about this?”
“Hard to disguise a scout carrying so much extra equipment and leading two riderless horses back to camp. They know.”
Rendle led the way back to his tent where he rummaged in one of his chests and retrieved a large hand-drawn map. He laid it out on the ground outside.
“I don’t like losing my men,” Rendle said tightly. “And I don’t understand this. None of my people are so stupid as to bother a village or hamlet by themselves. They might have tried to steal a chicken or pig, or annoy a farmer’s daughter, but a farmer hasn’t a chance in hell of doing anything about it.”