Red Magic - Jean Rabe [38]
They were nearly through the orchard when the sun disappeared on the horizon and the sky turned a darker blue. In another half-hour, perhaps not even that long, the sky would be totally black. Brenna began to worry that they might become lost in the hostile country.
Just then a sharp cry cut through her thoughts and rooted the Harpers in place.
"You! Intruders! Stop and surrender!" a disheveled figure stepped out from the shadow of a large citrus tree, surprising the trio.
Brenna and Wynter had difficulty noticing any details, but Galvin's acute eyes picked out a half-dozen more shapes behind the first figure. Their discoverer was human and was evidently in charge of the group; those in the shadows were orcs, pig-faced sentries who were more monster than man.
Galvin smelled their offensive odors and noted that they wore crude uniforms similar to the one worn by the gnoll he had killed, yet different enough to indicate they served another master.
"There are seven of them," Galvin whispered.
"What did you say? Speak up, trespasser!" the human called.
Quick to realize that they faced an orchard patrol, Wynter trotted forward, roughly pushing Galvin out of the way and knocking the druid to the ground. Galvin's rump stung, and he started to get up.
"We're no intruders," the centaur said sternly, planting the tip of his thick staff on Galvin's chest to keep the druid from moving. "I work at the slave plantation near Thaymount, and I'm returning these runaways." He curled his lip when he glanced at Brenna and waved his arm indicating she should move near Galvin. She complied, cowering visibly.
The man came closer, motioning his orc charges to join him. "You're a long way from Thaymount, centaur. Your plantation workers were lax to let a pair of slaves get this far."
"They're a tricky pair, these two," Wynter said. Then he thumped Galvin with the end of his staff and ordered him to get up. The druid stood next to Brenna and cast his eyes at the ground sullenly. Brenna copied him.
"These two escaped many days ago," Wynter continued. "I was sent to retrieve them, and if I didn't find them, I was told not to come back. It wasn't hard to follow them. The clumsy fools don't know how to cover their tracks." He smiled at the sentry.
Wynter reached out with his free hand and yanked Brenna's hair to pull her closer to him. She yelped in surprise and pain. "I would've killed them, but the boss wouldn't have stood for it. No. Not at all." He yanked on Brenna's hair again until she cried out. "She's been around awhile. Him, too. Look at the hair. It would have been my mane if they'd gotten killed."
The patrol leader grinned, showing a row of dirty broken teeth; the front two were missing. Despite his poor appearance, Wynter guessed he was probably an able fighter. He was muscular, the sleeves of his uniform fitting snugly over the large biceps beneath. A longsword hung in a tooled leather scabbard on his right side, while a broadsword hung on his left. Half a dozen daggers were strapped to his chest. The orcs behind him each carried two weapons.
"So… they're special slaves," the sentry observed, his attention obviously directed at Brenna. "Why don't you let me see just how special the female is. Then I'll let you pass through the orchard. No problems."
"I couldn't do that," Wynter retorted, pulling Brenna closer to him. "This pair is prime breeding stock. You'd better let us pass. I'm not looking for any trouble."
The man motioned his orcs to remain still. "Breeding stock? A wizard's stock?"
"Yeah," Wynter replied. "They belong to a zulkir. Do you want me to say his name nice and loud, just in case he might be listening?"
"No," the man growled morosely. "You can go."
He waved a thick arm forward, and Wynter proceeded. Brenna stuck close to