He started to speak. Again, she stopped him with a gesture.
“Listen, the problem is that you can’t separate what you’ve been told with what you know in your gut to be true. If you believed in your role as wholeheartedly as you want to believe in it, there would be no problem. You wouldn’t have to forgive yourself for leading those kids to death because you would have been in the right all along.” She chuckled without humor. “I hear you asking a question, but I don’t think you’re listening to yourself yet.”
Berun nodded his great head.
Vedas’s fists loosened, and he clasped his shaking hands together. Despite his attempts to hold onto it, the temper that had built while Churls spoke dissolved, settling within his veins, leaving him cold. His head swam as though he had been blindsided by a vicious blow. She had spoken truly: Something did indeed call from within. A question or a revelation. It whispered at the edge of comprehension, awful in its potency.
Instinctually, he fled from it, retreating to a comfortable position.
“I should have protected them,” he said.
Churls sighed. From Berun came the odd rustling sound of spheres moving deep within his body. Neither moved, and Vedas admonished himself for a fool. Of course they had nothing to say. How could they put themselves in his position? Had they ever led a team of scared children, or tried to comfort a grieving parent? Certainly, Berun had never done so. And Churls—Churls was traveling to Danoor for personal gain, probably in order to satisfy a debt. Hardly a situation for a responsible person to find herself in.
I would have more luck talking with the ocean, Vedas thought, and rose wearily to his feet.
“Stop,” said Churls. “Don’t go. You see Berun and me sitting here, listening? If you don’t want to ask yourself the question I think you should ask, fine—I’m not going to try to force you. Still, there are other questions. Why did you insist on going to the girl’s house in the first place? What did you hope to accomplish? You said this had happened before, so why burden yourself before your journey? It makes no sense.”
Vedas swayed where he stood, unwilling to sit back down, unable to walk away. Churls’s words passed through him like an arrow through flesh, tearing a new pathway for infection, new doubts to plague his existence.
The sound of spheres moving in Berun’s body increased, and then abruptly shut off. “No,” he said. “It’s not time to answer questions. It’s time to listen. Do you know what Nhamed told me about you? He said you’re a man of honor. After traveling with you for some time, I know this for a fact.” He swiveled his head to stare at the sky. “You’re a closed book, Vedas, and more than once I’ve wanted to knock your head from your shoulders, but that isn’t important. You defended Churls when you didn’t have to.”
His eyes found Vedas again. “Quit lying to yourself. There’s only one sure way you could have prevented those children’s deaths, and that is by not placing them in danger. If your faith isn’t strong enough to withstand the death of a child from time to time, then you will have to stop leading them into battle altogether.”
Churls dipped her head in agreement. Her eyes had returned to the fire.
Vedas fought a brief spell of dizziness. His ears rang. His jaw ached.
Before words of denial or acceptance formed in his mind, a scream carried across the Step.
‡
“That’s no animal,” Churls said. She buckled her sword belt. “A woman or a child, the better part of a mile away. If we were upwind, I doubt we would have heard it.” She nodded to Vedas. “We’re taking a look, right?”
Vedas said nothing. Another scream sounded.
Berun shrugged.
Churls scowled. “I can’t listen to that and just stand here. Can you?” They ran. Berun jogged beside them, huge feet drumming on the hard ground. Whoever had screamed would certainly hear them coming, if he or she were still alive.
Vedas did not question why he had agreed to go along. He ran, and for a moment forgot his troubles. He had lost weight while traveling, and it seemed like his feet barely touched the ground. Running felt very good, in fact, like punching through an opponent’s guard.
“I can see something ahead,” Berun said. “Figures, three or four. Not very large, running. They look human.”
“Can’t be sure of that.” Churls drew her sword and held it by the blade, near the hilt for better balance. “Are they moving away from us?”
“No. They’re crossing our path, maybe one hundred yards ahead. There’s a fourth, definitely, smaller than the others. It’s running from them, not far ahead. One of the three following her runs on four legs and is continually jerked back, as if it’s on a leash. Sometimes it stands on its hind legs and runs like a man. It howls like a dog.”
Vedas concentrated, and caught the sound. “I hear it, too,” Churls said.
“Magic or witch-lore,” Vedas said. He imagined the fear the pursued child must feel, knowing what followed at his or her heels. “Leave it to me.”
Berun’s eyes flared. “We haven’t decided which side we’re on.”
“I have a feeling,” Vedas said. “I’ve been on both sides of the hunt. Good men don’t draw out the pursuit like this.” He pushed his legs harder, propelled forward by a visceral sense of justice. “I’ll take all wagers.”
Churls grunted. “For once, I’ll go with the odds.”
Vedas leaned forward into the night, legs as firm as iron underneath him. The hood of his suit tickled over his forehead and cheeks, slid like a lover’s caress over his lips. He bared his teeth within the mask. The blood raced in his veins. The smell of his own sweat mingled with the elder-cloth, and it was the smell of home.
‡
They closed the distance. When they were a hundred feet away, the hunters released their howling creature and turned to meet them. Vedas saw that the pursuers were indeed men, squat and strongly thewed. Both carried heavy pickaxes in meaty fists, and waited in ready postures. Vedas looked beyond them as the fourth figure fell under the creature’s body, and aimed in this direction. As he passed the two men, light erupted from their bodies. They glowed as if they had been turned to molten metal.
Shit , Vedas thought. He knew enough of magic to recognize it for what it was: alchemical armor. During a battle in Plastertown, a White Suit using a similar spell had fought off seven Black Suits by himself.
“Hold them if you can!” Vedas yelled to Berun and Churls. “I’ll take the beast!”
He jumped. His right shoulder hit the creature’s upper back and his arms whipped around its chest, carrying the body clear of the child’s. He tightened his grip as they slid on the hard-packed soil, allowing the creature no opportunity to regain its feet. It howled, turning its head with blinding speed to snap at his face. The sour rot of its breath struck him like a blow, and its chomping teeth rang an odd metallic sound. It bucked and spasmed under him, but he held fast, pushing its belly into the ground, splaying its arms and legs under his bulk.
In full control now, Vedas put one hand against the back of the creature’s head and savagely slammed its face into the ground. He straddled its waist, unmindful of the claws raking along his thighs and buttocks. The suit hardened in defense so that he barely felt the contact, yet the frenzied movements fueled the rage screaming in his limbs. He slid forward, positioning both kneecaps on the creature’s upper arms, just below its shoulders. His hips rose into the air, shifting the full weight of his body onto his knees.
The bones gave way with satisfying snaps, and the creature howled. Vedas put both hands on its skull, twisting it back and forth, grinding the creature’s face into the unyielding earth.