The Born Queen - J. Gregory Keyes [22]
“Yah. And sitting here killing them one at a time won’t help.”
“What do you think will?”
“I don’t know. I’ve thought I might go back to where he was sleeping, find something.”
“In the Mountains of the Hare? That’s twenty leagues from here as the eagle goes, and we aren’t eagles.” Her eyes slitted. “Do you have some reason to think you should go there?”
“No.”
“No?” She sighed. “I know you, Aspar White. You just want to die fighting for the King’s Forest. This one here isn’t good enough.”
“It’s not—” He stopped. Not mine, he finished silently, imagining the great ironoaks of his youth rotting into putrid jelly, the bright streams clogged with death, the ferny glens choked in black thorn. Did he really want to see that?
“You came to find me,” he said, “all those months ago. You talked about having a duty other Sefry have abandoned. What is it?”
She had found some coals and was coaxing them to life and adding tinder from a pile near the pit, stirring up the scent of hickory and juniper. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know if I can tell you that.”
“I already know what you and your kind really are. After that, what secret is worth keeping?”
“I told you, I’m not sure. I’m trying to maun it out.”
“Well, fine; find me when you do. I’m going now.”
“You don’t even know where we are,” Leshya said.
“Well, I reckon if I head south, I’ll eventually come across someplace I know,” he replied.
“We’re lucky I remembered this place,” she said. “Otherwise they would have caught us long ago.”
“Who? Fend?”
“And his people.”
“Your people.”
She acknowledged that with a bow of her head.
“Well, I’m sure they’ve stopped looking by now,” he replied.
“I doubt that,” she said. “You were with the Briar King when he died. He might have told you something.”
“What do you mean? So far as I know, he can’t speak.”
“That doesn’t mean he didn’t tell you something.”
Aspar remembered the shocking rush of visions he’d had as the Briar King died.
“Yah,” he said. “But if he told me anything, I don’t know what it was.”
“Yet.”
“Sceat,” he muttered.
“Aspar, you could be the most important man in the world right now. You might be the only one who can stop what’s happening—save the King’s Forest, if that’s the only thing that means anything to you.”
“Is that why we’re still here? You’re hopin’ I’ll have some sainty vision?”
“I can’t think of any other hope to cling to. It’s why I’ve kept you safe.”
He looked at her. “That you have,” he said. “And I’m grateful. But there’s no need for you to take my part anymore. I’m strong enough now.”
“You aren’t, and you know it.”
“I won’t get stronger sittin’ about here,” he said. “And you know that. Now, if you think I’m so important, I reckon you can come with me. But I am going.”
She had a fire now. “Rabbit for supper,” she said.
“Leshya.”
She sighed. “Another four days,” she said.
“Why?”
“You’ll be four days stronger, and the moon will be dark. We’ll need that, I think.”
Aspar nodded and looked back to the east. He pointed at a nearly invisible talus slope that vanished behind a ridge.
“Is that the pass we came in through?” he asked.
She nodded.
“I reckoned.”
“The only way in or out unless you’re a bird or wildbuck.”
He nodded, then squinted. “We might not get that four days,” he said.
“Ilshvic,” Leshya snarled. He didn’t know what she’d said but could make a pretty good guess.
A line of mounted figures was coming through the pass, a lot of them.
CHAPTER FOUR
PROPOSITION AND DISPOSITION
THE BROADSWORD cutting toward Cazio was moving almost too fast to see, and he suddenly understood the nasty grin on the monk’s face. Cazio reacted from years of training, jabbing his lighter but longer weapon out in a stop-thrust that should have pierced the man’s sword wrist. It didn’t, though, because—impossibly—the monk checked his swing. He stepped back and regarded Cazio for a moment, just out of measure.
“Interesting,” he