No! Shung's deep voice resounded. Stay still. Curl into ball. Back facing the beast. We hunt it.
Achan rolled to his side, wounded leg down, and tucked his head, thankful Shung, the cham hunter, was here. He held his breath, listening, praying the animal would bound past, into the woods, after a deer or fox, some more common meal, though he knew deep down that the cham would obey Atul.
He gagged at the smell of sweaty fur and dung. Hot breath wafted over his neck as teeth sank around his right shoulder. Multiple throbs pierced through the chain armor as the cham clenched down and dragged Achan's left side over roots and thorny bushes. His whole body burned from within, but he stayed still, hoping compliance would at least keep the cham from charring him with a burst of flame.
His chain coat snagged. The cham jerked its head. When Achan's body didn't budge, the cham tugged again. Achan's mind got lost in the blinding pain. A man screamed. Or had that been him?
Sir Gavin's voice came first. Achan, what's happening?
Be closing your mind, boy! Inko said.
Who are you?
You're hurting me. Please close your mind.
Dear one, a kind woman said, you must shield yourself.
Your Majesty, you must relax. Sir Eagan sent his calm and the pain faded some. We are right behind it.
Shield yourself, eh Pacey? Kurtz said.
The cham let go. A roar vibrated Achan's eardrums. Orange light flashed. Shung screamed. A sword entered flesh. Something thumped. Branches cracked. A man grunted.
Sir Eagan? What happened? Shung?
Somewhere behind Achan, Shung groaned.
The cham bit Achan's shoulder again. Achan's head swam with agony. Darkness closed around his vision.
Achan! Sir Gavin said. Your guard is down and you're spilling out. You must focus. Tell me what's happening. What's wrong?
If Achan was dying, he didn't want every bloodvoicer in Er'Rets privy to it. He drew up his shields and fixated on Sir Gavin's voice. A cham. Sir Eagan and Shung are trying to fight it.
Call on Arman, Sir Gavin said.
Achan's cheeks flushed at this obvious conclusion. He closed his eyes and recited the words Sir Gavin had taught him, knowing in his heart Arman could help him. But would he?
Arman hu elohim, Arman hu echad, Arman hu shlosha be-echad. Hatzileni, beshem Caan, ben Arman.
Achan had to act. For all he knew the cham had roasted Shung. He reached his trembling left hand to his chain armor and slipped the rings free from a root. The next time the cham tugged, Achan's body scraped easily over the forest floor.
He felt for the sheath that held his dagger. It took more patience than he liked to cajole his trembling fingers to the right place, but he managed to draw it. He clutched it to his chest, squeezing the ivory grip. He'd only get one try. If he missed, the bear would roast him.
Shung had suggested the way to kill a cham was an arrow to the side, behind the shoulder. The knife wouldn't go deep enough to reach any vital organs. He needed to cut its throat.
The bear pawed him, its massive claws clicking over the chain. It clamped down on Achan's torso, just under his arm. Its teeth seemed made to pierce chain armor. The pain made Achan so lightheaded he almost blacked out. He squeezed the handle of his knife and mumbled, "Arman hu elohim, Arman hu echad, Arman hu shlosha be-echad," a half dozen times, waiting for his moment, praying he'd have the strength.
The bear released him. Achan rolled onto his back, onto a furry paw, brought the knife up over his opposite shoulder, and slashed back across the bear's neck, screaming as he did.
Hot blood spurted over Achan's face and chest. His breath hitched. He clamped his mouth shut. The bear groaned, thrashed in the brush, and loped away. Achan rolled the opposite direction until his body hit a tree trunk. He struggled to maneuver behind it, unable to see the bear. Off in the forest ferns rustled, twigs snapped, and a keening moan gave Achan hope.
Sir Eagan! Where are you? Shung?
A cool breeze filtered past the trees and Achan shivered. Saliva and blood matted his shirt to his shoulder and chest. His right arm hung limp. His shoulder and torso throbbed. His thigh still ached. Should he stay put? Esek's horse was likely dead. Should he climb a tree to get out of the bear's reach? What had Shung said about chams climbing trees?
Sir Gavin's panicked voice burst in Achan's head. Achan! The cham?
I dunno. I think I killed it.
A man groaned nearby.
Shung? Sir Eagan? Achan's voice came slow in his head.
Little Cham?
Shung! Are you hurt?
Shung will live. The cham burned Shung's arm.
What of Sir Eagan? He doesn't answer.
"Did I kill it?" Sir Eagan's voice sounded groggy.
The cham knocked Elk into a tree. Footsteps crunched and Shung's hairy shadow crouched before Achan.
"I'm fine," Achan said. "Check Sir Eagan."
"No need." Movement swished past Achan's boots. "A little dizzy, but I'll live."
With Shung and Sir Eagan's help, Achan staggered to his feet and limped to the road. He could see the dark shape of Esek's horse. Dead. Achan's limbs trembled, his body cold and sweaty.
Sir Eagan and Shung boosted Achan up to Sir Eagan's horse. His right side seized, and he held his breath to keep from crying out. He wanted to lie down. His body throbbed. The smells of saliva and blood sickened him.
Shung moved to the other side of the horse and tucked Achan's boot into the stirrup. "Where's the beast?"
Achan jerked his head to the side and his neck muscles cried out. "Back through…trees."
"Shung will come back tonight with men and light. Make frame to haul back."
Achan panted. "See if…you can find… m' knife."
Sir Eagan mounted up behind Achan. "And my sword."
A thrill seized Achan. "M' swords! On th' dead h'rse."
"Shung will get them."
Owr was finally his. "Yeh can have yer sword back now, S'r Eag'n. I've tak'n Owr."
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
Moments later the horses took off, galloping at top speed for Mitspah stronghold. Each hoofbeat jarred Achan's wounds so much that he lost consciousness.
38
Vrell awoke in her bed in Mitspah under a pile of blankets. A fire crackled in the hearth, warming her right side. She drew her hand along her middle and found she wore one of her boy's tunics. Strips of linen bound her waist.
A wave of heat passed over her. She'd left her undergarment in Esek's tent! Who had dressed her wounds?
Voices murmured nearby. She blinked and her room in Mitspah took shape. Men were speaking in Achan's room. The adjoining door stood open.
"Well, I'll be stormed, I will! What a relief, eh? I'd thought the lad was double-"
"Enough, Kurtz!" a man said. Sir Caleb. "Gavin, how long have you known?"
Sir Gavin drew a long breath through his nose. "Since the night we first defeated the black knights."
"I'm not liking it at all. It's being bad luck to be having a woman in camp."
"Does Achan know?" Sir Caleb asked.
Kurtz honked a loud laugh. "I'll say. If you'd seen wh-"
"Aye," Sir Gavin said. "But only since our first night in Mitspah."