Torian snatched a crossbow from one of the other men and quickly fitted a bolt, but before he could shoot the pathetic wretch and put him out of his misery, the man fell silent and slumped to the ground, his head pounded to a gory pulp.
He had beaten out his own brains rather than suffer the agonizing torment. As the beetle detached its tendril stinger, Torian picked up a rock and smashed it, pounding away until nothing was left of the loathsome insect but a wet spot on the rocky ground.
The rest of the mercenaries had been badly unnerved by the gruesome spectacle of their comrade’s death. Coupled with the earlier death of the man killed by the drake, this loss had left them shaken. They had said nothing, but their faces had been sullen, and Torian did not need to be a mind reader to know what they were thinking. It could happen
Just as easily to any one of them, and the longer they remained in the barrens, the greater the odds were that none would make it back alive.
Torian now chose to call a brief halt to rest their kanks and feed them. He had brought along two spare riderless kanks to carry their supplies. As the men pulled even with him, he suddenly noticed that two of them were missing, and along with them, the two pack beasts.
“Where are Dankro and Livak?” Torian demanded.
The others looked around, apparently noticing for the first time that two of them were missing.
“They were bringing up the rear with the pack beasts,” one of the men said. And then his eyes grew wide as comprehension dawned. “The miserable bastards have turned back! And they have taken our supplies with them!”
The other three exchanged alarmed glances. They all knew what that meant. All their food, all their fuel for fire, and all their spare water, save for the skins they carried with them, were now gone with the deserters.
“When was the last time any of you saw them?” Torian asked.
They exchanged glances again. “This morning, after our rest break,” one of them said.
“They were right behind me when we started off,” another said. “But I never thought to turn around. After what happened with the others, we were all watching one another’s backs, and I had thought. . .” His voice trailed off as he realized that, probably for much of the day, he had been riding alone at the rear, with no one to watch his back.
“We must turn around at once and go after them,” said Rovik, the new captain.
“And lose more time?” said Torian grimly. “No. Let them fend for themselves. We will go on.”
“But, my lord, they have taken all our food and water!” Rovik protested. “We have only our own water skins, and they shall not last out the day!”
“I am aware of that,” said Torian. “My situation is no different than yours. We shall have to drink but sparingly, and make the water last as long as possible.”
“And then what?” one of the others said. “At most, we can make the water last another day or two. Then we shall all die of thirst. We must turn back! Our only chance now is to catch Dankro and Livak!”
“And how much of a head start do you think they have?” asked Torian. “None of you has seen them since this morning. They must have held back as we started off, then turned and bolted at the first opportunity. They will travel at full speed for fear of pursuit, and they shall not stop unless something out here stops them. Then the pack beasts will simply wander off, and we will be no better off than we are now. It is five days back, if we travel without rest. Our water will run out long before then.”
“Then either way, we are all dead,” one of the mercenaries said.
“Look there,” Torian said, turning and pointing toward the mountains, rising up ahead of them in the distance. “The Barrier Mountains are at most another three or four days ride. I grew up in those mountains, and know them like the back of my hand. Once there, we will find plenty of game and water. We must go forward. It is our only chance.”
“What is the use?” said the mercenary who had just spoken. “We shall merely die within a day or two’s ride of the mountains, our salvation within sight, but out of reach. It is hopeless. We are finished, Torian Your pointless, mad pursuit has killed us all. We are dead men.”
Torian drew his sword. “Dead men need no water” he said, and plunged his blade into the man’s chest. The mercenary cried out and stared at him, incredulous, then his eyes glazed over as he clutched at his wound and toppled from his mount.
Torian turned his kank to face the others, still holding the bloody sword in his hand. “Does anyone else believe there is no hope?” The others simply stared at him in stony silence. “Good. Then we can divide his water among us,” Torian said. “If we are sparing with its use, it should extend our supply another day or two. From now on, I will carry all the water and ration it out as I see fit. Any objections?”
No one spoke.
“Then it is settled,” Torian said. “Pass me your water skins. From now on, we do not stop until we reach the Barrier Mountains.”
On the fourth day of their trek across the barrens, they had run out of food. They had stretched their supply as far as possible, feeding most of it to the kank. The beast had a voracious appetite and could not survive on its honey alone.
They had been eating the honey, and there were only several globules left. The kank needed to supplement its diet with forage, and there was none in the barrens. They had fed the remain ing honey to the kank, but it was not enough.
By the fifth day the beast was starting to grow weak. But that was not the worst of it. They had also run out of water.
Ryana felt completely drained. She could only imagine how the princess must feel. Korahna had not spoken a word in hours. She merely clung weakly to Ryana, with her arms around her waist, her head lolling against her back. Ryana saw that even Sorak was showing the strain of their ordeal. At least she and Korahna had been able to sleep during their journey. They had taken turns, one of them holding the other to prevent a fall, while the kank had simply followed Sorak obediently.
Sorak had been on foot throughout their journey, and though he had ducked under to sleep while the Ranger or Screech came to the fore, their body had neither slept nor rested, save for the brief stops they made. Ryana could see by Sorak’s bearing, each time he surfaced to take over his body once again, that he felt the physical effects of his exertions. His elfling body could take far more punishment than human bodies could, but even he was tired now.
Ryana felt Korahna’s grip slipping and turned just in time to catch her as she started to fall. “Sorak!” she called out.
He stopped and turned, looking at her wearily. “Korahna has swooned,” she said. He walked back to the kank. “Let her down,” he said.
He took the princess in his arms as Ryana gently eased fer off the back of the kank, then dismounted to stand beside him as he laid her out gently on the ground.
“I never thought that she would even make it this far,” said Ryana. “I can barely stand myself.”
Sorak nodded. “It was selfish of me to bring her along,” he said. “She would have been better off with Torian.”
“She said that she would rather die,” Ryana said.
“I fear she will,” said Sorak. “She has no strength left. She has come this far on pluck alone. And that is no longer enough. She will be dead by nightfall.”
Ryana looked over her shoulder toward the mountains. “Another three or four days’ ride and we would have reached the end of this wasteland.” She sighed with resignation. “If Torian has not long since turned back, he will find only our corpses.”
“We are not dead yet,” said Sorak.
“It will be night soon,” said Ryana, looking toward the mountains. “Up ’til now, Screech has kept us safe by communing with the creatures that approach us, but Screech cannot make water out of stone. And when our bodies fail us, we shall make a fine meal for some hungry beast. It seems the Sage has merely lured us to our deaths.”