The frostclaws, with their quick steps and powerful legs, had an easier time of it in the snow, but Lombo seemed to take particular delight in slaying them. He was a fox among hens, streaking away from one broken-necked body to pounce on another, bear it to the ground, then wrench its head off.
Alexia parried a thrust from a longknife, then chopped her blade down on the gibberer’s head. Bones cracked, then she kicked out at it, pitching it back. She reined her horse around and saw Resolute turning his horse within a circle of corpses.
Behind Alyx, Sayce was laying about with her saber while, rising in his stirrups, Will hurled the bladestars Resolute had created. Beyond him, a squad of the Red Lancers came riding hard. They drove against the thickest concentration of gibberers harrying the urZrethi, and the urZrethi took that moment to strike as well. Caught between them, the gibberers howled and wailed until they were all slain.
The remaining gibberers scattered as best they could, but the Lancers and Freemen rode them down. There hadn’t been but thirty or forty of them, and a quick glance at their condition suggested to Alyx that these were stragglers and deserters who had banded together, and the small group of urZrethi had been caught at a most inopportune moment.
The princess trotted her horse over to the urZrethi. She counted ten of them, but several were wounded, and at least three urZrethi bodies lay in the snow. A female with flesh the color of red rocks, and long black hair plaited into a thick braid, stepped over to meet Alyx. The urZrethi had shifted her legs into spindly sticks, much as Bok had, and her forearms and hands had been transformed into a piercing blade and a horny mace.
“I bid you the peace of Bokagul.” Her dark eyes shone with coppery flecks. “I am Silide-tse Jynyn, warden for this domain.”
“I am Alexia of Okrannel.” She looked over toward Will, thinking to introduce him, but saw him sitting astride his horse with an open wound on his leg. Sayce had dismounted and stood there spreading the rent clothes. The blood looked dark on Will’s brown leathers and it steamed.
Alexia rode over to him. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
Sayce snarled. “I let one past. I let one get to the Norrington. It’s my fault.”
Qwc landed on Will’s thigh, above the cut, then got down on all sixes and spat a wad of webbing into the wound. Will hissed and Sayce tried to swat the Spritha away, but Qwc darted back, then forward again, and deftly manipulated the webbing to cover the wound. The webbing did redden, but it also contracted, drawing the sides of the wound closed.
Wheatly reined up just shy of Will. “My lord, the gibberers are all gone. We’ve got them down to the last. A couple of our people are wounded, but nothing so’s it would bother a man.”
Will nodded. “North and Lindenmere?”
“North is fine, my lord. Lindenmere has a bit of a scratch, but he’ll live.”
“Good. Thank you, Captain Wheatly. You showed initiative; that’s good.” Will beckoned him with a finger. “Please, come here.”
The man rode close enough for his right knee to touch Will’s left. “Yes, my lord?”
The thief scraped his right index finger over his bloody trouser leg, then reached over and drew a dark stripe down the bridge of the mask on Wheatly’s upper arm. “You may wear your mask again. You are now my man. You will serve as best you can, and you will tell me of others whose actions make them worthy of being mine.”
The smile that blossomed on the man’s face proved so infectious Alyx found herself smiling. “Yes, my lord. My duty, honor, and pleasure, Lord Norrington.”
“And, Wheatly?”
“Yes, my lord?”
“If anyone needs healing, please send them to Adept Reese. I want live men, not brave corpses. Each scar is worth a story, true, but the ones he’ll take away will be worth two.”
“Yes, my lord.” Wheatly tossed him a quick salute, then reined his horse about and started shouting orders to the Freemen.
Will looked up at Alexia, then over at the urZrethi. “How bad was it?” Silide-tse looked back at her group. “I lost four and, depending, another may die.”
Alexia looked up as Lombo wandered over and Crow joined them. “We need Kerrigan. Can you get him?” She’d been speaking to Crow, but the Panqui nodded and set off, loping up the hill.
The urZrethi sank down awkwardly on her heels. “Forgive me.” Sayce turned and dropped to a knee beside her. “Are you hurt?”
“Exhausted.” She held up her mismatched arms. “Shifting can be tiring and we’ve not had much rest or food over the last week.”
Sayce stood and whistled for one of her Lancers. “Find a way to get the sleighs down here safely. We’ll camp here.” She turned back to the urZrethi. “In no time, we’ll have you some food and a place to rest.” Silide-tse smiled, then held up the mace. “No, no need.” The Murosan princess lifted her head and an imperious tone entered her voice. “We may be in Oriosa, but you will not refuse Murosan hospitality.”
The urZrethi laughed. “Not at all. The offer of your hospitality is very welcome. Were we in Oriosa, I would accept.” Silide-tse pointed to the northwest with her mace. “You see, this is my home. An hour further into the mountains, and I shall offer you our hospitality and our gratitude. Welcome to Bokagul. By your actions you have proven yourselves friends of the urZrethi, and in our realm, our friends shall want for nothing.”
37
The urgent need to help the wounded urZrethi quickly erased the ignominy of being tossed over the Panqui’s shoulder and hauled off through the snow like a sack of potatoes. Kerrigan knew better than to flail his arms or yell, since this was hardly the first time Lombo had carted him off like that. Never before, though, had snow been dashed up into his face so constantly that he had to swipe at it endlessly to keep it clear.
Behind them came Bok, with the chest strapped to his back.
Down in the valley, Kerrigan was deposited very much like a sack of potatoes in the middle of the battlefield. He rolled to his knees and surveyed the situation. Three urZrethi were wounded, but their injuries consisted of minor cuts and scrapes. He crawled over to where two other urZrethi held a third. The third urZrethi clutched at her swollen belly, and her companions likewise pressed their hands to it.
There was a lot of blood. “Tell me how bad it is.”
The copper-skinned urZrethi at the wounded female’s feet shook her head. She spoke in urZrethi, of which Kerrigan knew little and caught even less. Another urZrethi, the one who had been speaking with Princess Alexia, crunched her way over and squatted. “She says Sulion-Corax was slashed across the belly by a frostclaw. Do you know what corax means?”
Kerrigan narrowed his green eyes. “She is allowed to bear children, yes?”
“Yes. She is Sulion-Corax Girsce and these are her sisters and cousins. She is five months pregnant and the frostclaw may have hurt the baby.”
Kerrigan exhaled strongly. “Oh, that complicates things.”
“I shall make it worse for you. If you can repair the damage and save both, good. During that if you learn the gender of the child, say nothing. If it is a male child, and you cannot save both, however, save her.“
The mage frowned. He knew enough of the urZrethi to know their matriarchy had little use for males—aside from breeding—but he thought that a bit harsh. “Don’t worry, I will save them both.”
He nodded at Sulion-Corax. “It will all be well.”
Kerrigan closed his eyes and placed his hand on Sulion-Corax’s. The urZrethi jerked under his touch, but the other urZrethi cooed soothing words at her. He set himself, then cast his diagnostic spell. Since it was elven magick, it flowed through her as if it were rootlets growing through the earth, slipping tendrils in and through her. The urZrethi, being a shapeshifter, had a nature that was highly mutable, but the pain she felt gave him tangible points of reference for his spell.