Chronicles Of The Warlands - Warlord Part 5

"How do you-"

"The tail." Marcus pointed.

I looked in time to see the stub of the tail stand straight up, and a thick stream of yellow ichor shoot out

at the riders. Keir was missed, but others weren't so lucky. Prest seemed to be dripping in the stuff.

"Two left," Marcus commented.

"They can do it three times?"

Joden nodded, gesturing off to one of the other groups. "Looks like Prest took a full hit to the head."

I couldn't tear my eyes away from Keir. The ehat he faced was fully aroused now, stamping, and

spraying out at anything that moved. I watched as everyone was sprayed, including Keir. As soon as it

was certain that the animal had exhausted its supply, the riders moved off, away from camp. "Normally, they'll not bring that stink to camp," Marcus replied to my questioning look. "They'd find a place to rub in the dirt and use crushed gra.s.ses on their skin and the horses. It takes the worst off."

"Oh, the poor horses."

"They're better off than the warriors. The stink doesn't seem to cling to horsehide as bad."

"What about water? Soap?"

Joden joined in. "Water seems to make it worse. After a few hours, the dirt and gra.s.ses absorb it, and

then they'll bathe."

"But this is not a normal hunt." Marcus pointed off where Keir and the other musk teams had gathered.

"They'd not miss this."

"Who would?" Joden agreed. "Simus will rage that he missed this."

"The kill teams are moving in." Marcus pointed, standing up, and waving to let Ander and Yveni know

they could join us.

We'd crawled up the rise so as not to spook the prey, but that wasn't a worry now. I stood with Joden and watched as the next teams swooped in, full armored, and bearing lances. Two of the ehats seemed to realize the danger, and were trying to move closer to each other, but the teams were heading them off.

Their musk might be gone, but those horns were still wickedly sharp, and the ehats weren't afraid to use them.

"Any down yet?" Ander asked as he and Yveni joined us.

"Not yet," Joden responded. "But I think that far one is going down."

I looked to see the animal staggering, and the riders crying out as it fell.

"A quick kill," Marcus said. "Thanks to the skies."

Yveni came to stand behind me, looking out at the land behind us. She and Ander were taking turns, watching the hunt and our backs. Even here, even now, they didn't let down their guard. They shifted, so that she could see. "Good. The faster the kill, the less risk to one of ours."

Joden grunted, but never took his eyes off the scene before us. He was intent, trying to see it all. I knew

he would remember it all, and wondered how he'd capture all of this in a song.The air filled with the cries of warriors and the bellows of wounded ehats. Two more went down, leavingthe last ehat, the one closest to us, still standing. "What is Iften playing at?" Marcus grumbled.

He was right, Iften was in the lead on this ehat. The animal was stamping, bellowing and using short charges to fend off the riders. I watched as Iften came around, a lance in his hand, aiming for the beast's head.

"He wants an eye shot," Joden noted absently.

"He cares more for his personal glory over the good of warriors," Marcus snapped.

I held my breath as Iften rose in the saddle, raising the lance, headed right for the head. He threw up his

hand, brandishing the lance-and dropped it.

There were gasps all around me as Iften fell back into the saddle, his arm cradled in front of him. But the ehat didn't hesitate. It swung its head hard, and its horn caught both Iften and his horse, throwing them

both in a tangle far into the gra.s.s. The ehat bellowed its triumph, and swung again, trying to catch another rider.

"They'll lose it," predicted Joden, as the riders on the team changed their tactics, interposing to keep the

ehat from trampling Iften. But that gave the ehat a way out, and it turned to flee. "If it runs, it will be miles

before it stops."

I heard the cry first, a warbling that rang in the ears. It was Keir, racing in on the black, headed straight for the ehat. I held my breath in horror, he had no weapon or armor. What was he thinking?

But the cry had put new fire in the team, and they surged forward toward the animal, to try to cut if off. One warrior broke off and met Keir, tossing him a lance in mid-gallop.

"He'll try for it." Marcus spoke in satisfaction.

G.o.ddess, he was going to do it. My mouth dried as he raced closer and closer to the beast, coming up from behind, under the horn. He seemed to rear up, the lance high, and then he threw.

The lance pierced the ehat's chest, just behind the leg.

"Lung hit," Ander announced with satisfaction. Marcus and Joden both grunted in agreement.

The ehat took a step, another, staggered, and then dropped in its tracks.

A great shout arose, the cheering of all the warriors.

Warriors were leaping in the air, shouting and dancing. They were giddy with their success. I shouted

too, sharing their exhilaration and relief. But I was made even happier by the sight of Keir heading our way, riding his horse with graceful lopes toward us.

Until the wind shifted.

I am a healer, used to the sights and smells of corrupted and sick bodies. There wasn't any putrid sub stance that I hadn't dealt with before. Still, I didn't dare risk another breath. I'd empty my stomach for sure.

Yveni stood next to me, and leaned into my ear. "It means much, when one greets a lover covered in ehat musk with a kiss," she said.

Mentally I rolled my eyes, and wondered if I could make this so called 'sacrifice'.

Everyone else drifted back as Keir came closer, even my guards. Not that I could blame them. The stench was horrific. As he got closer, I could see the yellow globs all over him, and his poor black horse.

I frowned. It looked like the musk had thickened in the air. What was that stuff?

"Warprize!" Keir shouted, laughing and smiling. His poor eyes were streaming tears, as were mine. He pulled to a stop in front of me, and leaned down. G.o.ddess help me, who could resist? I stood on tiptoe and kissed the man. His mouth was warm and salty and tasted of musk: I dropped down in haste, breaking the kiss.

Keir sat back up, breathing hard. His eyes sparkled with a deep, satisfied look. He laughed at Marcus and Joden and gestured out where the hunters danced around their kill and celebrated. "You must sing of this, Joden!"

"No one tells a Singer how to craft a song, Warlord," Joden chided him. "But this is a once in a lifetime

sight."

Keir nodded, but his smile had dimmed slightly. "If not for me, Joden, then for them. They deserve to hear it sung."

"There is truth in that." Joden nodded his agreement.

"The truth that needs to be told is that you stink, Warlord." Marcus grimaced. "Be off with you!"

Keir laughed. He would have turned the horse away, but I spoke up first. "Wait." I fumbled in my

satchel, looking for an empty pot. "I want some of that musk."

There was a collective groan from everyone around me.

We'd returned to camp, but Keir had been sent off to cleanse himself. I now had a small sample of the musk sealed in a pot and wrapped in leathers. If I couldn't figure out a use for it, I bet Eln could. Would that I could be there when he got his first whiff.

The camp was preparing for a party, with large fire pits for roasting and the gra.s.s in various places being trampled down for dancing. Drums and rattles were emerging from packs, and there was an air of happi ness and excitement. Everyone was digging out streamers or scarves to add to their armor.

Marcus had laid out the infamous red dress for me to wear. Infamous at least in Xy, since that was the color worn by ladies of questionable morals. I'd worn it in the Throne room of the Castle of Water's Fall, and been insulted as a result. An insult that Keir had avenged with one swift stroke of his sword. But here, on the Plains, this red dress meant something different and I put it on with pleasure. It promised to be a night of celebration of both the return to the Plains and the four-ehat hunt.

There were even plans of a more permanent camp, which had surprised me until Marcus pointed out that it would take days to butcher the animals. Only something called the first meats would be taken tonight, with guards posted to drive off scavengers. Even with everyone working, it would take time to cut and preserve the meat and hide.

While Marcus and the others worked on preparations, I had a job to do as well. A few of the injured sought me out for healing. Nothing truly serious, thank the G.o.ddess, mostly bruises and cuts. It pleased me that some of them trusted me to treat these ills, accepting my skills.

Not everyone felt that way. I knew full well that there were others that would not come to me, and I made no effort to seek them out. There'd been no broken bones that I knew of, and I didn't bother to ask after Iften.

Let him consult the warrior-priest that cast the 'healing spells' on his arm.

I thought about that as I sat by the fire, putting away the last of my supplies. I was sure that he'd tried to use his injured arm to throw that lance, and from the looks of it, the pain had flared when he'd hefted the lance. It was only a matter of time before the swelling damaged the arm, numbing the muscles and curling the fingers into a useless claw. But he'd made his choice, and he'd have to live with the consequences.

The sound of horses brought me to my feet, and I watched as Keir, Prest, and Rafe rode in, covered in dirt and gra.s.s stains on what was left of that old clothing. I took a few tentative breaths, but Keir just laughed and swept me up by the hips, holding me high as he spun, laughing up at me. I clutched at his hair, breathless with my own laughter. Thankfully, the smell wasn't too bad, but it was still there.