The Magehound - Elaine Cunningham [121]
"Bullies are cowards," she said, dismissing what she had done.
"True enough, but that doesn't make your display the less impressive. If I were able to move, I might not be far behind him," Matteo said dryly. He painfully rose into a sitting position.
"You're no coward," she said staunchly. "And not that much of a fool, either.
You just need to remember to check for ticks, so to speak."
She moved behind him and tugged up the hem of his tunic. A long, low whistle escaped her. "You'll be several shades of purple by morning, but there doesn't look to be lasting damage." She ran her fingers lightly over his back. "The club hit here, to the left of the spine. That's good. He got a shot to the kidney, which isn't good. Hurts like all Nine Hells."
She dropped the tunic back into place and leaned forward to peer into his face. "I always seem to be picking up after you," she said. She silenced Matteo's ready rejoinder with an upraised hand, her suddenly subdued expression letting him know that she realized that she had caused him more grief that she intended.
"Thank for you for coming after me. I owe-"
He stopped her by placing his hand over her lips. "No more talk of debts between us," he said firmly. "No distractions. We have to do everything we can to find and stop Kiva." Tzigone nodded and pushed Mateo's hand aside.
"Finding her isn't going to be the problem. Does it seem to you that Kiva seems a bit too easy to track?"
"She wants to be found," Matteo reasoned. "She is luring us. If she were simply doing her duty, I could understand why she wished to entrap you. But there is something more happening here. I have a feeling that she has a purpose for us both. Why else would she free me from the hold or send a message that would bring me to Cassia's chambers?"
"You're a good fighter. Maybe she wanted to add you to her army."
Matteo perked up. "Army? What army?"
"I'll show you." She extended a hand and helped him to his feet. They both mounted Cyric the Second and rode to the edges of the swamp. By then Matteo felt able to walk without much pain, and he followed her as they crept through the moss-hung trees.
She stopped him with a silent gesture and carefully parted a curtain of vines.
There, in utter silence, was a training field reminiscent of his days at the Jordaini College. Over a hundred men practiced with weapons of steel and wood and bone, yet there was no sound of impact, no grunts of exertion.
Matteo marveled to see jordaini routines practiced under a magical shroud of silence. He would have sooner expected snow in midsummer.
His gaze skimmed the crowd and came to rest on a tall auburn man. His disbelieving eyes widened, and he couldn't quite suppress a gasp of astonishment.
Tzigone sent him a quizzical look.
"That tall man," he said quietly, pointing. "He is very like my friend Andris." A terrible thought occurred to him. "Or an undead creature that was once Andris! I saw the wemic kill him the very day we met."
He spoke softly, just above a whisper, and then fell silent. But some magical ward captured his words and repeated them in an echo that thrummed through the forest.
The fighters stopped and turned toward their hiding place, weapons leveled.
But Andris's face broke into a joyful grin. He made a quick, impatient gesture, as if he were tearing aside an insect netting. "Trust your eyes, my friend," he said in a clear, carrying voice. "I'm alive and well and happier than I've ever been!
Come into camp, and I'll tell you everything."
Chapter Nineteen
“It's a trap," Tzigone said flatly.
Matteo hesitated, uncertain whether to believe what his eyes told him.
"Andris was my dearest friend. I can't walk away from him without a word. I'll understand if you don't wish to follow me, but I must go."
She thought this over and shrugged. Matteo stepped out into the clearing.
After a moment, he heard Tzigone's light step behind him.
Andris strode to meet him, and the friends fell into a back-thumping embrace. Finally Matteo put Andris out at arms' length