"I accept your offer." It seemed a fitting thing to say.
He wasted no time getting them ready. "I do not know much of the way of this land, but I must go west. Where was the nearest village when last you knew?"
"I remember Melan is a few days from the Dragonspine, by the Wyrm River. It's a very small village, mainly sheepherders."
"Then that is where we will go if we do not come upon a borderland outpost first. Come. Those Gutoths did not make it all this way on foot."
They rounded around the ruins of an old wall and found two large wooly animals that looked like large cows. Horns protruded from their massive heads, and their large black eyes blinked calmly as Marcellus and Nyori approached.
"Grunnien," Nyori said. "No wonder they had no trouble catching up with me."
"Yes. Not as fast as a horse, but better than on foot." Marcellus approvingly examined the contents of the satchels hanging from the beaded saddles. "More food, water, and even a few tokes." He easily lifted Nyori onto the back of one of the placid beasts, then pulled himself up on the other. "It was my good fortune to find you, Shama. I was on foot, and alone. Now everything has changed."
She sighed. "Yes, at the cost of human lives."
Marcellus shrugged unconcernedly. "They were bad men."
He tapped the grunnien on the neck, and the animals strode easily on their sturdy legs. They seemed to make good progress, but when Nyori snuck a few glimpses at Marcellus, it seemed that he was frustrated by their rate of speed. He appeared feverishly focused on moving as fast as possible.
Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts.
I have gone to Asfrior as Ayna said. But there was no safety, and no Tome to recover. What am I to do now? She recalled the shivery chill of the harbinger when she first met Marcellus. Obviously he was important in some way to her. Considering his timely intervention, she could see why. She would have most likely died had he not arrived.
They stopped only to eat a few crumbs and sip a few drops. He always gave her the larger portion, refusing to heed her protests. He rode with his back erect, his eyes scanning for threats. He seemed inexhaustible, completely focused on the path in front of them.
He halted the grunnien she sat on, placing a hand on the frayed blanket. "There's faint smoke ahead. Probably someone is camped out there."
She gave a start at the certainty of knowing that darkened her vision momentarily. A lump rose in her throat; her voice became whisper. "There is death in that camp. We should stay away."
He gave her a considering look. "They may have food and water that survived the fire."
She slowly nodded, trying to hold her fear at bay.
He placed a hand on her arm. "Then I must go. You can stay here until I get back."
"No." She squared her shoulders and swallowed. "I will go with you."
"As you wish." Pulling out his sword, he cautiously advanced.
She followed him to a scene of carnage. Corpses lay on the cold ground like toppled statues, their throats torn out and their flesh waxen as though blood had never run in their veins. The weathered tents in the camp were undisturbed, and there was no sign of robbery. The people were attacked for a singular purpose.
Nourishment.
"Looks as though your Dhamphir found some sport. Refugees, from the look of them. Probably got lost in these mountains." Marcellus frowned. "I expected buzzards. Ravens, scavenger animals…but these bodies have not been touched. The beasts are wise. They know this death is not natural."
He knelt down and motioned as if to touch one of the corpses, but thought better of it and let his hand rest on the ground instead. The deceased woman appeared around Nyori's age. Her eyes stared disbelievingly from her ashen face.
"It looks as though the creatures feed on blood alone. They suffer no other wounds other than on their necks. I have never seen the like."
Nyori glanced at him. His face was composed, his voice neutral. She did not understand how anyone could view such a scene and not shudder. "How can you be so cold? Have you taken so many lives that it no longer bothers you?"
He shrugged. "A warrior must be cold. I was barely older than a boy when I killed for the first time. When you kill a man, it changes you. You will either become ice and steel or lay your sword down and become a monk or a farmer. Anything else will get you killed. I chose to keep my sword. But if my frigidity causes you concern, then I apologize. I know you are not used to such things."
Nyori shook her head. "I hope I never get used to such things."
Marcellus did not respond as he stood. "Take only what we need. Food, water, blankets. Change into warmer clothes if you find them. Winter comes swiftly in these mountains, and the winds smell of a storm."
When she hesitated, his voice gentled. "I will stand guard. Go quickly so that we can be away from here."
They ducked into separate tents.
The interior was dark and foreboding; every shadow suggested some dark unseen menace. Nyori found women's clothes inside a battered chest and dressed faster than she ever had in her life, exchanging her ragged blouse and skirt for warm stockings and a soft gray wool dress, topped by a dark blue cloak and a thick scarf to wrap around her head. Even though she knew the woman was dead, she felt guilty for taking the clothes. She quickly said a prayer for the lost family and dashed out.
To her relief, there were no Dhamphir or any other threats waiting as she half-expected. You have to collect yourself. You're a Shama, not a little girl waiting for her hero to rescue her. You have your senses, and you have Eymunder.
Marcellus must have dressed while moving because he was already leading the two grunnien into the camp. He had changed into dark breeches, a clean shirt, and a black cloak that covered his shoulders. Though the clothes were anything but new, he still looked better than before. His erect stance and noble bearing somehow made the clothes look more than what they were.
"We should tarry here no longer than we need to."
She couldn't agree more.
After they loaded the grunnien with food, water, and blankets, he hoisted her atop one of the animals. They both paused at the center of the camp, where Marcellus had laid the fallen bodies side by side.
"We should bury them," she said.
"No time." Marcellus scanned their surroundings. "There are surely still hunters on my trail, and they will not rest until they recapture me."
"It just doesn't seem right." Nyori's gaze drifted back to the corpses. Their dead faces seemed to stare at her, pallid eyes accusing. "At least let me honor them with their last rites."
For a moment she thought that he would refuse anyway. But after studying her face, he finally nodded. "Very well, Shama. If you feel it is important, I will not stop you. But please do not tarry long. I will lead the grunnien down the hill and wait for you."
She waited until he was out of sight before turning her attention to the dead.
By the time she reached the bottom of the hill the fire blazed; thick black smoke roiled toward the sky. The burning did not disturb Nyori. Many castes of the Steppes performed the same rites for their dead. Sparks floated upward, tiny dots of fire seeking to reach the stars.
What disturbed her was forgetting the words that she used to start the fire. It was just like the words she spoke to command the doorway in Asfrior. She again tried to recall the words she had spoken to blind the Bruallians, but they were also as though never learned. It was apparent at that point that the lack of memory was a sort of failsafe to keep masters of Apokrypy from becoming too powerful. She would have been impressed were it not so frustrating. She would have to relearn the words to use them again, but without the Tome that would be impossible.
She could recall the commands she had not used, the more powerful ones she avoided for fear she would kill the Bruallians. Despite everything, the sanctity of life that the Sha valued had held her back. Still, she wondered what she would have done had Marcellus not arrived. She knew that she would have probably used those commands, calling lightning or other means of destruction.