He forced the thought out of his mind. There was nothing he could do about it now. He had to save Ka-poel.
Tamas said he would send help, but Taniel knew whoever Tamas sent would move too slowly.
Taniel rode across the farmlands of Adro for another hour before the sun finally rose over the Adsea behind him, illuminating the Charwood Pile Mountains ahead and the Black Tar Forest, which spread out at the mountains’ base. At the top of a particularly high rise, he sniffed a pinch of powder and squinted across the fields.
Something moved in the distance.
He took another sniff to sharpen his eyes, increasing the strength of the trance. He could make out a trail of dust from a large group of riders off in the distance. They were at least fifteen miles away and they would be inside the forest within an hour.
He was curious why they had not tried to cut across the plains, but decided that his initial suspicion was correct. Once within the forest, they would turn south at the Counter’s Road, taking them to Surkov’s Alley and the protection of the Kez army. They would be inside of Kez-held lands within two days, even taking this roundabout way.
Taniel considered cutting across the farmlands to the southwest himself. But there was no good way to do it. Trying to navigate the forest would slow him down and he might miss them entirely. Far better to come up from behind and pick them off one by one from a distance. But even then, could he do it quickly enough before they reached the main army?
He felt the weight of despair in his stomach like lead shot. He wasn’t going to be able to get her back. They would kill her and free Kresimir, and then Adro would fall. Mihali – Adom – wasn’t here to protect them anymore.
A movement a few miles off caught his eye. He blinked several times to let his eyes refocus, and scanned the horizon. He saw just an old farmstead. Short, with stone walls and a thatched roof. He likely saw the farmer making his morning rounds. Nothing to get excited about.
Taniel was just about to dismiss the farmstead entirely when something new caught his eye. Near the edge of the farmhouse, he made out a uniform of green-on-tan, with a tall black cap with red accents. The man was crouched by the side of the building, staring straight toward Taniel. Without a powder trance, it was unlikely he could even see Taniel.
An ambush. How many men, Taniel couldn’t say. He would guess at least a dozen. He opened his third eye and looked again, but was unable to see any sign of a Privileged anywhere near the farmstead. Did they have air rifles? He wished he had asked about that before he left the Adran camp.
Taniel would need to get closer to find out.
He threw his bedroll down and caught an hour of sleep before he continued on, knowing it was his last chance at rest in the near future. Back in the saddle, he crossed the distance of a little over three miles at a trot so that the sun would be just over his shoulder as he approached.
When he was a half mile away, he checked with his third eye again. No Privileged and no Knacked. But these men would be grenadiers – as with Adran grenadiers, they would be bigger, stronger, and better trained than the average soldier.
At a quarter mile, Taniel slid from his saddle and staked out his horse so he could approach on foot. He put two pistols into his belt, fixing the bayonet onto his rifle and holding it across his chest.
He reached out with his senses, looking for powder, and he found it quickly. Powder horns, charges, loaded weapons. He sorted the information in his mind, assessing the arsenal of each man, and guessed there were six grenadiers.
A piss-poor ambush. Likely just meant to slow down pursuers, not stop them entirely.
Either way, these six were not ready for a powder mage. They were in for a damned big surprise… unless one of them had an air rifle. Then Taniel was in for a surprise. But nothing he could do for that.
He could sense the first grenadier behind a haystack a hundred and fifty yards away. Taniel took a deep breath, set his rifle to his shoulder, and pulled the trigger. He burned a little powder behind the bullet to make sure it went through the haystack. The crack of his rifle was quickly followed by a scream.
Two grenadiers immediately came around the corner of the farmhouse. Their muskets cracked and powder smoke rose over their heads, but they weren’t going to hit anything at this distance. Taniel had already rammed a bullet down the end of his rifle, sans powder, and lifted it to his shoulder. He burned a powder charge in one pocket to propel the bullet and took one of the grenadiers through the eye. The second threw himself back behind the house.
Taniel broke into a sprint toward the farmhouse. He rolled as a grenadier appeared from a nearby ditch. The man’s musket belched smoke and Taniel heard the bullet whiz by. Too far to ignite the man’s powder, but close enough…
He let go of his rifle as he came out of his roll and drew a pistol. He fired, adjusting the trajectory of the bullet with his mind in the fraction of a second it took to cross the distance and lance the man’s heart. The grenadier fell.
Three down, three to go. Taniel’s heart sang as he moved, blood pounding in his ears, feeling the rhythm of the battle. A bullet skipped off the ground beside his foot, and he looked to see the grenadier hidden on the roof of the farmhouse. Taniel hesitated between reloading his rifle and drawing his second pistol and decided instead to finish his sprint toward the cover of the house. Another grenadier rounded the corner of the farmhouse just as Taniel reached it. The soldier raised his musket.
Taniel ignited the grenadier’s powder horn and used his mind to warp the blast away from himself.
A slight movement above him was his only warning as the grenadier from the roof leapt down, knife drawn.
Taniel caught the grenadier’s knife thrust with the stock of his rifle. He shoved, trying to push him away in order to thrust with his bayonet, but the grenadier grasped the musket with one hand and stabbed again. Taniel was only able to avoid the thrust by throwing himself against the stone wall of the farmhouse.
The grenadier followed through, his face furrowed in anger as he caught Taniel’s bayonet under one boot and bent for another jab. Taniel let go of his rifle and snatched the grenadier’s wrist, slamming his opposite fist into the man’s knee.
The grenadier screamed. Taniel wrenched on his wrist, pulling him down to the ground, and rolled on top of him. He had the grenadier’s knife now, and he wrapped one hand around the hilt and slammed it into the grenadier’s face.
“Where’s Ka-poel? The savage girl! What have you done with her?” Taniel waited a moment, then punched him again. “Tell me!” Why was he doing this? He already knew. What could this bastard possibly tell him? Taniel drew his second pistol and pressed it against the grenadier’s forehead. “Is she still alive? Tell me now!”
The grenadier spit blood in his face.
Taniel felt the pistol jerk in his hand, the crack of the blast in his ears, and the grenadier’s body beneath him stiffened then sagged. Slowly, he climbed to his feet and tossed the spent pistol aside.
He’d wanted answers. He’d wanted to hear his fears confirmed.
Taniel looked to one side as the sixth and final grenadier came out of his hiding place and advanced, musket leveled. Taniel took a deep breath. Shit. In his excitement, he forgot about the last one. Too far to ignite the grenadier’s powder, and too close for the grenadier to miss him.
A stupid mistake, and it had just gotten him killed.
Taniel flinched away as the grenadier jerked to one side and fell. His musket landed on the hard-packed road with a clatter, and blood seeped from his head to pool on the ground. Taniel took a shaky breath and squinted into the sun, but couldn’t make out anything in the glare. His backup must have arrived. No one else was close enough to make that kind of a shot. He would have sensed them.