Page 139 of Wind Rider

“My Lord, I ask that you grant me that honor. Kong and I would die protecting Ralina, and I am sure Thaddeus would serve you better at the head of the Warriors.” The young Warrior bowed deeply to Death. On his ballast, Kong did the same.

“Your lover has an excellent idea. Who better to protect you, Storyteller? I accept your offer, but know, young Renard, if my Ralina is injured today I will repay you tenfold,” Death said darkly.

Renard bowed lower. “I understand, my Lord.”

“Good!” Death clapped His hands happily. “And now let us go to shore. Thaddeus, as we discussed, you will lead the way. Warriors—stay close to him. My original Reapers—remain beside me and Iron Fist. The rest of you run the boats aground near this fascinating group of crafts that are already beached, and remain in the shadows until you are needed.”

Then Death’s oarsmen, along with the rest of the flotilla, beached their army of boats as several half-naked, tattooed men jogged down a steep path toward them. The men looked confused and surprised, but they were not armed.

Thaddeus strode to meet them, his Warriors spreading out behind him with their canines. Farther behind, Death waited in the shadows, His massive body was swathed in a cloak, and a large hood was pulled up and draped over His antlers. Ralina and Bear, along with Renard and his Kong, were in position not far behind the God, surrounded by His elite Reapers—who also were covered in cloaks and shadows.

“We did not expect travelers today,” said a young man, nodding a greeting to Thaddeus. “I called for our leader, who shall be here momentarily to speak with you.”

Thaddeus nodded in return. Ralina saw him smile, and her stomach tightened. Thaddeus only smiled when something horrible was going to happen.

They waited in silence while the Saleesh looked more and more uncomfortable. Soon a tall, thin figure hurried down the same path as the others had come by. His hair was long and dark, an unusual mixture of gray and dark blue running through it. He was wearing a longrobe with large belled sleeves. Behind him Ralina counted a dozen or more men following him. They were younger and they carried lances barbed so that they looked like big fishhooks. The old priest stopped in front of Thaddeus and bowed his head slightly in greeting.

“I am Father John, priest and leader of this Saleesh village. May peace be with you.” The priest paused, as if expecting a response from Thaddeus.

“I am Thaddeus, and I speak for the leader of the People. We require river passage.”

The priest frowned, and Ralina could see that he was staring at the Shepherds who stood beside their Companions. “I must ask—are you allied with a group called the Pack? Their leaders are two young females who call themselves Moon Women.”

Thaddeus’s lip curled. “We know one Moon Woman. We are enemies of her people. Why do you ask?”

“They passed this way more than two weeks ago. They were uncommonly rude.”

Thaddeus’s laugh was humorless. “That bitch is always rude.”

Father John’s eyes narrowed. “Where is your Lynx guide?”

“We have none. We were hoping to hire one of your people to guide us the rest of the way to Lost Lake, and then across the lake to the base of the Rock Mountains.”

Father John’s smile was patronizing. “Oh, no. My people are not guides for hire, and they never leave our river. And, I mean no disrespect, but without a guide you will never make it past the ruins between our villages. Even if by some miracle you did, it would be suicide for you to attempt a Lost Lake crossing without someone who has experience leading people through there.”

“And yet wearegoing to continue our trip. So, what will it cost to hire one of your people?”

“I am sorry, but you do not seem to understand. My people are not for hire. They do not leave their river or their homes. Ever. Now, we will grant you passage through our villagesafteryou leave an appropriate offering—but we cannot move your boats tonight.” The priest paused togive a disdainful look at their ragtag group of patched boats and hastily constructed rafts. “It is simply too late. There is a camp within easy walking distance that should suit you for tonight. In the morning, perhaps you will decide to call a Lynx guide. If so, we will allow you to remain at the camp for the days it will take for him to answer.”

“So, let me be sure I understand perfectly,” Thaddeus said. “You will not agree to let us hire one of your people. You will not allow us passage tonight. And you expect us topay you something?”

Ralina’s body went cold at the syrupy sweetness of his voice. By the priest’s lack of alarm she knew that no Lynx guide had reached the village yet to warn the Saleesh about a group traveling without a guide. She took Renard’s hand, squeezing it so that he looked at her. She mouthed:Be ready—something bad is going to happen.

The priest chuckled. “No, you misunderstand. We never hire out our people—it simply is not done. We are not refusing to give you passage tonight. We cannot, because the sun has set and the ruins of the dam are too dangerous, even for us, to cross in the dark. And we would never ask you topayus for passage. We do require an offering for our Goddess, the Mother. So, if you will call forth your leader and have him follow me through our village, you may place your offering on the altar at the feet of the Mother, and then I will have you guided to the campsite where you can await your boats tomorrow and, should you decide, call for a Lynx guide.”

Death moved forward then. In one motion He pulled off His concealing cloak. The priest stumbled back and had to be kept upright by the younger men standing behind him.

“There are several problems with your list of requirements.” Death spoke in a voice that filled the beach. “Foremost is the fact that my people do not make offerings toanyGod but me.”

Father John’s dark eyes were huge with shock as he took in Death’s mutated form. “I–I do not understand. Who are you?”

“I am the God of the Reapers—the God of the Tribe—I am the God of Death. I command you take me to this altar of which you speak. I would meet your Goddess.”

“This is highly uncommon!” the priest sputtered.

“And yet I insist. Take me to the altar.”

The priest scrambled back. “I will do so, but only because then you will see the beauty and power of the Mother and her people.” Father John turned to one of the younger men in robes and whispered something to him. The man sprinted up the path, robes flapping ridiculously behind him. “Now, please follow me. And, as I mentioned before, bring your offering and whatever supplies you need for the night.”