“They are also gathering what wood they can,” the young man said. “But I don’t think there’s enough in the ruins to keep them the rest of the winter.”
“Smart lad,” Rasfel said. “I think the same thing.”
“You have not been seen?” Jerrold asked.
“No, Father,” Cirda said, clearly indignant, rolling his eyes at the very idea.
Ah. There was his son. Jerrold suppressed his smile as he spoke. “Of course not.”
“Horses may have brought them,” Rasfel added, “but there’s none to be seen now, nor wagons neither.” He gave a sly grin. “The Lord High Baron knows enough sword work to teach the basics. The son needs more practice.”
“Should kill them now, before they learn more,” an old, querulous voice rose from the back, thumping his cane for emphasis. “Now, if I had my goat cart—”
Old Petro, without a doubt, ready with an opinion or complaint. Jerrold cut him off before the old man could get wound up. “I do not understand this,” Jerrold said to the crowd. “To make such an announcement, without force of arms, is either arrogant or stupid.”
“The Blood of Xy is not stupid,” Mother Bercie reminded him. “Do not let hate blind you. There have been good ones here, before your time, my son. Remember that,” she chided him. “Remember who you are named for.”
“Aye, Mother,” he nodded to her, then turned back to his people. “The Black Hills has suffered and will suffer again unless we make a stand when they come against us. For now, we wait. We watch.”
“And maybe prod them a bit?” Rasfel looked eager. “Maybe test them a bit, eh?”
“For now? No,” Jerrold shook his head. “We watch.”
“And seek answers,” Mother Bercie added.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The rains turned to snow as Vren and Dust traveled toward Athelbryght.
They avoided the roads, mostly because they both enjoyed solitude. Easier, not to be questioned or observed, and their haste might draw questions. But also because more than once they had spotted groups of warriors returning home from the battlefields, weary, hurt, and angry. No need to give them targets for their wrath.
They took time to hide their trail, but as the days passed, they favored speed over caution.
There was a joy running with Dust, traveling swiftly and with confidence. The marcus and the vore were used to such weather. They hunted where they could and took shelter when they could find it. Huddling together for warmth, sleeping with Dust’s fur in his face, was a delight. Until such time as Dust returned to her human form, it was all he could ask and all that she would ever offer.
Each night he checked the mage key, the ring, and the red blood of the vial he carried. He kept them safe, tucked within his pack, wrapped well in a cloth and then again in oiled leather. Dust watched him every night, and he knew she was amused at his caution. He’d shrug, and she’d shake herself and let her tongue loll.
They found the body on the outskirts of Athelbryght. It was the horse that drew them, tied to a tree and struggling to free itself. A warrior had clearly made a camp, crawled into his bed roll, and died of his wounds.
Dust snuffed at the body, then sat and looked at Vren.
“I’ll try.” he said with a shrug, and moved toward the horse. “Easy now,” he crooned. “Easy.”
The horse was having none of it, rearing and snorting and making a fuss. It finally turned at the limit of its tie and kicked out at Vren, who backed off immediately.
Dust huffed. Vren shrugged, got as close to the tree as he could, and cut the reins.
The horse snorted and lunged away, but Dust caught the reins in her mouth and tugged as Vren backed off. The horse quieted, although its eyes rolled toward Vren.
Dust tugged again and led it off, presumably to take it to the near-by stream. The poor thing looked the worse for wear, thin and tired.
Not that Vren knew much of horses.
When she returned, still leading the animal, he raised an eyebrow.
Dust looked at the body and then at the horse.
“You know him?” Vren asked. When Dust nodded, he sighed. “If I remember,” Vren coughed, his throat not used to talking after the last few weeks. “There’s a village north of here. Think he was headed that way?”
