Balestone Page 7

  “Let’s move on,” Tiberius said.

  Rafe had his sword ready and the large bundle of rope around his free arm. Tiberius moved forward and stopped behind a tent where he could see several more groups of men. He began chanting softly. The groups were soon asleep and bound.

  “Now the sentries,” Tiberius said.

  Rafe only nodded and followed his friend. So far, the work had been easy, but the sentries would not fall asleep easily. They were standing up and would fight the magical fatigue as long as they could. They might even leave their posts to go in search of relief or raise the alarm when they realized they were unnaturally tired.

  “You ready?” Tiberius whispered.

  Rafe smiled. His friend chanted softly, and Rafe watched as the sentries began to sag. They were all strong men, but after a few moments, several had dropped to the ground in sleep.

  “Attack!” someone shouted.

  Rafe rose to his feet and whirled with his sword at the ready. Bu’yorgi had come crawling out of a tent and had seen Rafe and Tiberius lurking in the shadows. There were four sentries still on their feet. They all turned and started toward the camp. Tiberius’ chanting grew louder.

  “You devil!” shouted Bu’yorgi. “Wake up, fools! They have returned. Wake up and fight.”

  He was slashing at the bonds that held his men, but Tiberius had wrapped the grassy rope around each man’s hands and feet several times. Some woke but were groggy, unsure of what was happening. Bu’yorgi’s knife, a metal blade he’d probably taken in plunder, wasn’t sharp enough to rip through the bonds. He was forced to saw at the ropes.

  Rafe turned to the sentries. One was running toward them with his club held high. The other three were staggering, and Rafe knew that Tiberius’ spell would bring them down. Rafe stepped into a clearing where he had room to maneuver his sword. It was a precision weapon with a long, narrow blade ideally suited for thrusting, not parrying heavy clubs. But the sentry had both hands on his wooden club, which was raised above his head. There was no doubt what he planned to do or how he was going to attack.

  Rafe waited until the raider was in range of his sword and then stabbed the blade forward, turning his body and putting his weight behind the thrust. The man ran screaming into the blade, which pierced the soft flesh just below his sternum. His momentum carried the raider far up onto the blade. He swung the club, but with no real strength now, and Rafe caught it in the air above his own head with his free hand. He watched the sentry die, and as the man fell, he let gravity pull the raider from his blade.

  Rafe loved the way the blood glistened on his sword blade in the firelight. When he turned back to Bu’yorgi, the large man had freed three of his warrior companions, but none of them looked fit for a fight.

  “Somni Incantatio,” Tiberius said.

  “No,” Rafe said loudly. “Let them fight.”

  “You won’t bewitch me, wizard!” Bu’yorgi shouted, spitting after the last word.

  Then, to Rafe’s surprise, he turned and ran. Rafe couldn’t believe his eyes. Tiberius started chanting again as Bu’yorgi slowed. He cursed and tried to keep running, but he collapsed at the edge of the camp. Rafe turned around, but there was no one left to fight.

  “No,” he said in disbelief.

  The three raiders who had been cut loose were rubbing their faces but couldn’t stop yawning.

  “It’s not fair,” Rafe said. “Let them fight me. Please, Ti.”

  But it was too late. With a few incantations of his spell, the men were asleep again. Rafe screamed in frustration, and Tiberius just laughed.

  “Go tie them up, you big baby. I’ll go after the wagon.”

  Rafe reluctantly obeyed, grumbling the entire time. He tied up the sentries first, then retied the men Bu’yorgi had cut loose. Finally, he walked to the edge of the camp and found the leader of the raiders. The big man was snoring. Rafe kicked him in the ribs, rolling the man over onto his back.

  “Wake up, you big lout. Let’s finish this.”

  But the raider was sound asleep. The knife he’d used to cut his companions free was now lying in the grass, and Rafe kicked it away before dropping to one knee and tying the big man hand and foot. When he stood up, Tiberius was leading the wagon back into the camp.

  “That was fast,” Rafe grumbled.

  “Dancer showed us you had prevailed,” Lexi said happily.

  “Don’t be so upset, Rafe,” Tiberius said. “If you can’t fight, at least you can eat.”

  Rafe’s mood improved considerably. He hurried back to where the dried carcass of the oxen waited. He hacked off a chunk and passed it to Tiberius, who ate ravenously. Rafe was more careful with the cuts for Olyva and Lexi, but Olyva refused the food. She smiled at Rafe, and he ate her portion of the meat.

  “I must go and help the tribe,” Olyva said.

  “We should help,” Tiberius said.

  “After we eat,” Rafe argued. “And then we need to see to the prisoners.”

  “I’m going to make sure these horses are properly bedded down,” Lexi said. “We wouldn’t be here without them.”

  Tiberius nodded and helped Rafe pull down one of the barrels of water from the bed of the wagon. Then they all went to work.

  Chapter 9

  Tiberius

  Eight adults and two children were dead. The fever had ravaged their bodies, which had been weak to begin with. The adults were all elderly, the children just babes. Still, it broke Ti’s heart to know he’d been too late to help them. Perhaps if the water had been delivered the day before, they might have survived.

  Olyva spent the entire night propping up one tribe member after another and feeding them water she’d mixed with the rough bark from her own body. Tiberius tried not to think about the strange medicine. Olyva’s body was different and in some ways grotesque. The patches of rough scales that resembled tree bark was strange; the fact that it held medicinal properties was simply astounding.

  When morning came, they were all exhausted, but the tribe was beginning to show signs of recovery. Rafe had moved all the prisoners to the center of the camp, and Lexi had seen to all the animals, not just the horses. After a few hours of sleep, Tiberius sat with Te’sumee, leader of the tribe’s Rogu, who was already much improved. The water from the wagon was being consumed at a rapid pace, but it was obviously what was needed, and Tiberius thought they could always go back for more if they needed to.

  “We have held the raiders as prisoners until you and the rest of the tribe were well enough to dispense justice,” Ti said.

  “Justice is for the Swanee to decide,” Te’sumee said, nodding deferentially to Tiberius.

  “Not this time,” Tiberius said. “I’m afraid this whole incident has made it clear I don’t know enough about the Hoskali to be your Swanee.”

  “You are the Swanee — there is no other.”

  “Except you,” Tiberius said.

  “No, I cannot be the Swanee,” Te’sumee said quickly.

  “Please, Te’sumee, listen to me. The entire tribe almost died. I think that’s my fault.”

  “Bu’yorgi poisoned the spring,” Te’sumee argued.

  “Yes, but perhaps that was because we killed some of his Rogu in the raid.”

  Te’sumee thought about that for a moment. The leader of the Rogu had argued that slaying the raiders was not the Hoskali way. As Tiberius had helped to nurse the tribe through the night, he realized that Bu’yorgi’s treachery may have been retaliation for Rafe’s bloodlust during the raid. Not that Tiberius blamed Rafe, but he realized they would always be different. Tiberius had wanted to lead the tribe into prosperity, but in the end he’d almost cost them their lives.

  “I’m not trying to assign blame,” Tiberius said. “But once the tribe is fully recovered, I think it might be time for me and my friends to leave.”

  “No, Tiswanee, you must not leave the tribe.”

  “You are a good man. You will make a much better leader than me.”

  “
We will follow you, Tiswanee.”

  “Surely there is a way to pass on the mantle of leadership,” Tiberius said.

  Te’sumee remained silent.

  “Is there a ceremony or traditional way of selecting a new Swanee?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “If you don’t tell me, Filsa will.”

  Te’sumee’s head drooped. “There is a way,” he said sadly. “But Tiswanee is a great Kuja. He has saved the tribe.”

  “You are kind, but we both know it is best if I leave. I will return one day, if I can. The Hoskali are a great people, and I am honored to have been part of your tribe.”

  Tiberius left Te’sumee to rest and went in search of food. Rafe was still guarding the prisoners. He was tired, and Tiberius wanted to give his friend a chance to rest.

  “Bastards slept all through the night,” Rafe groused when Tiberius approached. “Your spell apparently works wonders on insomnia.”

  “I wish I knew a spell to keep me awake.”

  “Now that would be a useful bit of magic.”

  “Get yourself some rest,” Tiberius said. “I’ll stand guard over this lot.”

  “You should practice turning them into toads,” Rafe said.

  Tiberius laughed as several of the raiders looked suddenly fearful. Rafe went to find a place to rest, and soon Tiberius was alone with his thoughts. He sat where he could see their prisoners and also the sick who lounged beyond the camp. Many were sitting up and talking. A few were even on their feet, trying to help Olyva, who worked tirelessly. She had been slow and methodical during the night, but once the sun was up, she seemed completely refreshed. Tiberius didn’t know how she managed to keep working so hard, but she didn’t complain.

  Tiberius chewed strips of dried tamaka meat and washed it down with water. They didn’t bother feeding the prisoners, and Tiberius guessed that in the morning the tribe would be well enough to decide the fate of their attackers.

  “You seem distracted,” Lexi said as she came wandering over.

  Tiberius didn’t know where she had been resting, but her face was still puffy with sleep. He was amazed at how beautiful she was, even after the harrowing ordeal she’d survived to bring water back to the tribe. Not to mention the fact that she didn’t get sick like everyone else. Her furry companion sat on her shoulder, its long tail curled around her neck like an exotic piece of jewelry.

  “I was just wondering how you kept from getting sick,” Tiberius said.

  “Lucky, maybe,” Lexi replied. “I don’t really know.”

  “You are an exceptional person,” Tiberius said honestly. “We would have all died if not for you.”

  “I doubt that,” Lexi said.

  “It’s true. Our prisoners seem to be in awe of you.”

  “I think they’re looking at Dancer.”

  The little animal chirped happily. It seemed to love to hear Lexi say its name.

  “We need to talk about something,” Tiberius said.

  “You think it’s time to leave the tribe?” Lexi asked.

  “How did you know?”

  “You look sad, for one thing. And I guessed it was only a matter of time.”

  “Does your little friend let you read minds, too?”

  Lexi laughed as Dancer trilled.

  “I don’t think she likes to be teased,” Lexi said.

  “I wasn’t teasing.”

  “No, I can’t read minds, but I can read people. You’re an easy mark, Tiberius — you always have been. When we first met, I had planned to rob you.”

  “What?”

  “It’s true,” Lexi said with a giggle. “You were obviously well off, but naive.”

  “I’m not naive,” Tiberius insisted.

  “You always believe the best in people.”

  “I’m an optimist.”

  “And I’m a realist, but you won me over, and I decided to be your friend instead of robbing you. Of course, once I knew who you were, robbing a member of the earl’s family didn’t seem like a very good idea.”

  Tiberius thought back to when he’d first met Lexi. He’d been amazed at how confident she was, and how unconventional. She could blend into the crowds on the streets of Avondale so easily, even though she wore secondhand clothes and no shoes. Tiberius had thought she was beautiful then, as well, but it had been her self-assurance that had drawn them together.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said.

  “Why?” she asked, gazing up into his eyes.

  “I’d be lost without you.”

  “You were the one who found me when I was lost, remember?”

  “I just mean I don’t know that I could do anything without you. You make me feel like anything is possible.”

  Tiberius leaned down and kissed Lexi. The little animal she called Dancer hopped across Ti’s shoulders and then back onto Lexi. They both laughed.

  “I think she approves,” Lexi said.

  “I hope so,” Tiberius replied, then turned serious. “I never want anything to come between us.”

  “We won’t let that happen,” Lexi said. “So where are we going?”

  “I promised Rafe to try and help Olyva,” Tiberius said.

  “What if she doesn’t want to be helped?”

  “That’s for the two of them to work out. I just know that it’s time for us to move on.”

  “North?”

  “I think so,” Tiberius said. “If I can remember the maps correctly, Hamill Keep is north of Avondale. From there we would travel west to Sparlan Citadel.”

  “Is that our only option?” Lexi asked.

  “No,” Tiberius said. “But it’s what Rafe wants, at least for now. So, we owe it to him to move in that direction.”

  “I know you’re right but I don’t like it,” Lexi said. “I have a horrible feeling whenever I think of going there.”

  The night passed uneventfully, and the next morning the tribe was back on its feet. Most of the Hoskali were busy when Tiberius got up. They had left their mats and returned to the camp. Repairs were underway, and goods were redistributed. The Rogu were standing watch around the camp, all except for Te’sumee, who was gathered with several of the tribal elders. When Tiberius approached, they all grew quiet.

  “You are all feeling better,” Tiberius said.

  “We are, Tiswanee,” Te’sumee said. “We were just discussing what to do with the prisoners.”

  “I will give you my opinion,” Tiberius said, “if it is wanted.”

  The elders all nodded.

  “I think Bu’yorgi and his closest Rogu should be held accountable for what they’ve done. The rest were only following their Velora.”

  “No tribe has ever captured another tribe’s Rogu before,” said one of the elders.

  “And no Velora has ever been so treacherous before,” said another.

  “Bu’yorgi has a great reputation,” Te’sumee said. “It is hard to believe he would act so heinously.”

  “So question him,” Tiberius said. “Find out why he would poison our tribe.”

  “He will not speak. He says you are a devil and that we are all bewitched by your evil magic.”

  Tiberius laughed, and soon the elders joined in.

  “He is scrambling for an excuse for his own crimes. Hold him responsible, then do as you wish with the others. Has Te’sumee told you that my friends and I are leaving the tribe?”

  The elders nodded again.

  “Te’sumee should be the new Swanee. He will make a better chief than I ever could.”

  “It is not true, Tiswanee,” Te’sumee argued. “We are a stronger tribe with you.”

  “But we will only make the tribe a target. Word will spread of what happened to Bu’yorgi’s Rogu. The details will be exaggerated, and the other tribes will resent us.”

  “Let them,” said one of the elders. “We are the strongest tribe now.”

  “You are strong in spite of me, not because of me.”

  “We shall honor your wishes, T
iswanee, but we will always be your tribe,” Te’sumee said.

  “And I shall do my best to return one day, but not to be your Swanee. I only want to be your friend.”

  The elders all bowed, and Tiberius went to find Rafe. They spent the morning preparing to leave. Rafe seemed happy to be finally progressing toward their goal. Tiberius wasn’t sure if it was because he wanted to see Olyva restored to her former self or if he just felt compelled to reach the goal the princess had set for them by crossing the blighted lands and reaching Sparlan Citadel.

  They retrieved the spears they had brought from Avondale, and Lexi gathered their horses. Tiberius and Olyva saw to it they had plenty of food and water for the trip. Word spread through the camp quickly that Tiberius was leaving, and many of the families brought small gifts. The hides of the graypees that Rafe had killed near the river when they first came down from Avondale were tanned. The leather was supple yet extremely tough. Some of the tribe members had used tamaka sinew to adhere the leather to wool pants and a thick jerkin to serve as an armor of sorts.

  There was food, thick animal hides, and baubles. Each of their four horses was loaded with supplies. Then came the ceremony to pass on the mantle of leadership. Tiberius had chosen Te’sumee as his successor, and the elders of the tribe had unanimously approved. Tiberius could have taken the harem of wives with him, but he gave them to Te’sumee as a gift, along with the large tent and everything else that had been Moswanee’s when Tiberius was welcomed as the chief of the Hoskali tribe. And he was pleased to see that Filsa, the oldest of the wives and unofficial leader of the harem, approved.

  Then Te’sumee, who was now called Te’swanee, issued his verdict on the group of raiders. Bu’yorgi and and four of his men were singled out and executed. Half of those that remained were made slaves, the other half sent back to their own tribe and warned to never repeat the heinous acts of their fallen leader.

  Tiberius stayed long enough to see justice done, although he didn’t watch the executions. He knew it was the right thing to do and would have done the same thing himself, but he had no desire to take part in meting out justice on the big warrior who had tried to kill him. Tiberius and his friends said their goodbyes and then rode north just after midday.