‘We are trying to get home.’
‘Home? This is not your home. You do not belong here. And you bring this thing with you! We do not want it. Take it away! Go away. Leave us in peace.’
Peace? Gods and demons! ‘I’m sorry. We didn’t know. We do not think of this — a jungle, a wild land — as peaceful.’
‘You are foreigners. Yet we all live the same lives. We are born, we strive, we die. The difference is we do not make war upon our land. We accept it. We are at peace with it.’ The creature’s gaze shifted from Murk, as if peering above him. ‘And here comes peace for me now.’
Struggling to see through the obscuring sending, Murk flinched as something fell upon the thing. A much larger beast, this one scaled mud-grey and olive-green. It raised its bloodied fanged snout from the carcass now clenched in its taloned feet. Nictitating opalescent eyes stabbed at Murk through the sending.
‘You are near, mage,’ it hissed. ‘I can smell you.’
Uh-oh. Time to go.
Sliding from shadow to shadow, Murk succeeded in returning to the clearing where the troop had re-formed a cordon of guards. He slipped through to appear next to Sour — who made a show of casual recognition of his presence without looking up from his work cleaning a ragged savage gash down a merc’s leg.
A touch miffed — how did the man always know? — Murk crouched beside him. ‘Need any help?’
‘No. These local boys and girls really know their stuff.’
Murk poked a finger at the leaves and moss gathered on peeled strips of bark. ‘What’s this?’
‘Local medicines. From what I understand they get all they need from the plants ’n’ such around.’
Murk grunted as an idea struck. ‘No shaduwam.’
‘Exactly. Don’t need ’em. Everyone knows their stuff and can collect it free of charge.’
He eyed the ugly ragged tear of parted flesh across the woman’s lower thigh. ‘Nasty wound. Nails and talons. Not like a clean sword cut.’
Sour nodded as was his wont: sourly. He whispered, low, ‘Anywhere else I’d say goodbye to the leg. But these locals claim this stuff will hold off any fever and rot.’
‘Let’s hope.’ Murk gave the merc a reassuring nod. She was a swordswoman named Cryseth, hailing from the island of Strike in Falar. ‘Have this bound up and good in no time.’
She gave a taut answering jerk of her head and mouthed through clenched teeth, ‘An even exchange, mage.’
Murk continued his nod. Yes, an even exchange. I’ll do my damned best. ‘Where’s the cap’n?’
Sour tilted his head aside. ‘Chattin’ with Oroth-en. Something ’bout boats.’
‘Right.’ He rose but Sour grabbed hold of his jerkin.
‘You get through?’ he asked, low, now pointing his bearded chin towards the litter.
‘Yeah.’
‘And?’
‘Neutral. So far.’
The little man let out a thankful breath. ‘Good. Later.’
Murk grunted an assent and headed off through the tall grasses. His jerkin, he noted, was now smeared in clotted blood where his partner had clenched a handhold. Not a goddamned sign, please, Enchantress.
If Oroth-en and the captain had been talking they weren’t now. Yusen looked stymied, rubbing his neck. The elder appeared wary and watchful. Catching sight of Murk the captain nodded a greeting while Oroth-en’s surprise was softened by a crooked smile.
Yusen cleared his throat. He appeared to have come to some sort of decision as he crossed his arms and gave Murk his full attention. ‘Your report, cadre?’
Murk couldn’t help raising a brow, but declined to comment — for now. Cadre now, is it? ‘They want us gone, sir. Was a warning more than anything else.’
The man did not appear impressed. The long lines that framed his mouth, now partially hidden behind a salt and pepper beard, lengthened as he frowned. ‘So I gather.’
‘I mean it wasn’t random, or hunting, or feeding. Was defensive.’
Now Yusen’s brows wrinkled in disbelief. ‘Defensive? They attacked us.’
‘In defence of their lands. They call us invaders. Trespassers.’
The man peered about as if searching for something. He waved a hand to the surroundings. ‘Trespassers? It’s a jungle. An empty blasted wilderness. There’s nothing here.’ Murk flicked his eyes aside to Oroth-en. ‘Other than a few locals, of course,’ Yusen added, quickly.
If the elder understood he did not show it. He did incline his head, however, as if granting the point. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘we are here. I agree with the shaduwam. The children of the forest hope to turn you back. You are invaders. Only those countenanced by the Queen may enter here. As for us, we too are children of these lands. Our blood and bones come from it. And in time, we all shall return to it. This is how it should be.’
‘But not us …’ Murk prompted.
The warlord gave an amused half-smile. ‘Do not be deceived, Shaduwam. The jungle will eat you just as readily. Even if you are invaders.’
‘Eat?’ Murk answered. ‘You make it sound as if it were some sort of a huge beast …’
‘It is.’
‘Oroth-en and I were discussing boats,’ Yusen cut in, impatient.
‘Yes?’
‘They don’t have enough.’ Yusen held Murk’s gaze, his expression flat, as he added, ‘And it would take a very long time to make more. Many days.’
Murk understood the man’s meaning and gave a small answering nod. And in the meantime feeding us would consume everything these people have.
‘What is your advice, cadre?’ Yusen asked, his words very slow and solemn.
Sheeit. We are in formal crisis-of-command mode now. He rubbed his slick greasy forehead and winced as the night chittering of the insects suddenly grated on his nerves. They were returning to full blasting force now that the clearing was quiet. Gods, I’m tired. Only a few hours of the night left. What to do? Every option has its problems. Best to cut our losses, I say. ‘I advise heading back to the coast. We build our own craft then skirt around the shore to the west.’
Oroth-en held out his open hands. ‘You may stay with us, of course — but it would be difficult.’
Yusen shook his head. ‘Our thanks, but we are too many for you to take in. You hardly have enough as it is.’
‘The land will provide. We will forage more widely.’
‘I am sure you are capable. But we would not trouble you so.’ The ex-officer squinted aside. ‘No. We’ll head southwest. I understand there’s a borderland there. A cordillera. We’ll trace it south. Stay under cover.’
Murk nodded curtly. There we have it. The man’s done his job — made a command decision. Glad I’m not the one to have to. He saluted. ‘Seventh Army, yes?’
Yusen’s answering salute was more of a dismissal. ‘We’ll head out tomorrow.’
Murk gave a grin. ‘Aye, aye,’ and headed off in search of Sour. He looked all over through the trampled stands of grasses of the meadow but found him nowhere. He came across mercenaries lying asleep here and there, wounded men and women sitting up in pain, and their guards plus the local warriors keeping watch on the jungle verge. Where had the fool got to, he wondered, when a spear haft across his chest halted him once more and a great tall familiar figure smothered him in a hug and lifted him from his feet.
‘Ha! Returned from the depths of the jungle, I see. Alone you treated with our wild kin, hey? Who else could do such a brave thing!’
Murk pushed himself free of the embrace. ‘Yes. Hello, Ursa.’
She stamped the butt of the spear to the ground. ‘Hello? Is that all Ursa gets from her man? You will give me much more later, yes?’ and she cuffed him, almost knocking him from his feet.