“Should we remove it?” he asked, looking to Bock for the answer. He was skilled at killing, but knew his knowledge of saving a life was lacking.
Bock shook his head. “Not until we can get him some place he may truly rest. We need to get to the Hawser ranch, just southeast of Koshka. I’ll ride and fetch one of the wagons,” he added, already standing and moving back to his horse. He stopped after a few paces. “Keep him still and well watered. I should be back before morning.” He started to move once more then stopped again. “What of him?” he asked, pointing to the young man still kneeling on the ground.
“I’ll see to him,” Gwaynn answered coldly, and stood. “Rest easy,” he said to Krys, and began to move toward the beach as Bock hurried off after a wagon.
The naked man was shaking, cold and obviously very afraid. He looked young, possibly younger than Gwaynn himself. Gwaynn’s intention was to kill the man quickly but his youth surprised him.
“Executioner?” he asked. The Deutzani looked up at him with dark hair and dark frightened eyes and shook his head.
“I’m…I’m a soldier.”
“A soldier in my country,” Gwaynn answered his anger rising again, but something in the boy’s expression stayed his hand.
“Your name please?”
The young man looked hopefully up at Gwaynn and again something was familiar about his expressions. “Van,” the soldier said. “Van Valencia.”
Gwaynn jerked slightly and then laughed. It was something Van did not expect.
“Do you know Vio, Vio Valencia of Noble?”
Van’s face brightened in surprise. “She’s my cousin, her mother and mine are sisters,” the soldier answered and for the first time since meeting this wickedly skilled fighter felt as though he might survive.
“Seems it is your lucky day,” Gwaynn added, realizing he could not knowingly kill one of Vio’s relations, at least not a close relation. “You will leave my country, and never return,” he said.
Van nodded, but would have agreed to anything at that moment.
“But first I would like you to meet one of Vio’s good friends.”
ǂ
True to his word, Bock rode up in a wagon at perhaps two in the morning. Krys was in a bad way by then, in shock, though the blood loss was minimized by leaving the weapon in place.
They loaded him carefully on the wagon with the help of Van, who was now dressed. Bock was surprised the young Deutzani soldier was still alive, and cast a questioning look at Gwaynn, who shrugged.
“He’s a cousin to a close friend,” he explained.
“A Deutzani…a close friend?”
Gwaynn just shrugged again. “Let’s get moving,” he said and climbed up next to Bock, who would be driving the wagon. Gwaynn glanced back at Van, who was sitting next to Krys, and eyeing him with more worry than Gwaynn would have thought possible a few hours ago. The two had hit it off splendidly and exchanged a number of stories about Vio.
“Watch him close,” Gwaynn ordered, “and make sure his wound does not begin to bleed again.”
The ride to the Hawser Ranch was long, dark and at times bumpy since they went by direct route to avoid Koshka and any questions a man wounded with a kali was likely to garner. They were forced to travel overland, since the only road to the Hawser’s was through Koshka, but they made very good time and arrived just before midmorning the following day. Krys was completely out when the lifted him from the wagon and carried him into the main house. Rue Hawser and his wife Carmen worked the ranch with their two sons Olney and Brace, all of them fiercely loyal to Afton Sath and therefore the Massi. Rue and Carmen immediately took charge of Krys, carefully removing the weapon, cleaning the wound and then bandaging their young patient, who took it all with the stoicism of the unconscious. They finally emerged from the sick room nearly an hour later to find Gwaynn up and pacing. Bock was dozing in a chair and Van was snoring softly on a small sofa.
Gwaynn turned to them with obvious concern. Rue smiled, but it was Carmen who held up a hand.
“He will be fine,” she said. “As you suspected the artery was missed. The kali has been removed, and the wound cleaned, as long as he doesn’t contract an infection he should make a full recovery…I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name,” she added. In the rush to help the wounded man introductions had been missed.
“Gwaynn Massi,” he answered. “I am in your debt.”
Carmen blinked and Rue just stood open mouthed, suddenly alert, though a moment before he was weary from the exacting work of stitching up Krys’ wound.
“Gwaynn…Massi?” Carmen asked growing pale. “M’lord?”
“Yes,” Gwaynn answered. “I am in your debt.”
Later that night, Gwaynn endured one last dream of his mother and Gwynn hanging by the scaffold, stomachs ripped open, innards writhing on the ground, two dogs feasting. The surrounding Deutzani soldiers laughed as they watched the canines eat and then Gwynn suddenly seemed to notice Gwaynn and looked up.
“Food for dogs,” she whispered, and dissipated as Gwaynn bolted upright, breath coming in gasps. It was a long time later before he was able to relax enough to fall back to sleep.
ǂ
Samantha found a road and turned to the southwest away from Manse and came across the bodies just before nightfall, a full day after Gwaynn and his party had departed the area. Carrion birds had already arrived at the scene. Finding so much death and so close to dark, completely unnerved her. She was tired and wanted to make camp but was very afraid that the dead men would draw unwanted attention to the area. She moved on and picked up her pace. She patted Bull with sympathy, knowing that he was also getting very tired despite his prodigious strength. She made maybe five more miles before night closed in, very dark, clouds covering the moon, but instead of stopping where she was she moved off the road to the west nearly a half a mile before finally dismounting. She was very sleepy and moved clumsily in the dark, but she took the time to unsaddle Bull and rub him down despite her own exhaustion. Only after he was hobbled and happily grazing did she lay out her blanket and drop down on the hard packed ground. She lit no fire, and fell into a deep sleep without even eating.
She didn’t wake until Bull blew horse spittle and snot all over her face. She sat up quickly, sputtering and disoriented.
“Good morning to you,” she said, wiping the mucus from her face. The sun was up high, nearly an hour above the horizon, and she cursed. She rose and from her pack took an apple which she fed to Bull, who ate it quickly and happily. She saddled him and then struggled up onto his back and started off. As she rode she rummaged through the bag of food from Cobb and found two hard biscuits. Sam ate them dry and made her way cautiously back to the road. There was still no one in sight and as she looked back toward the lake she could see only a few birds circling high overhead in the distance.
Near noon she topped a rise; though she hadn’t been aware that she was even traveling uphill, so gradual was the incline. Below, maybe two miles away, she saw the town of Koshka, and beyond the town, a thick line of trees which extended in either direction as far as the eye could see; the great Scar Forest. She looked back to the town with a frown, trying to decide whether or not just to bypass it. In the end the look of the forest troubled her enough that she decided to risk at least the edge of the town and maybe find someone to give her some information about the way ahead. Even so she still left the road and skirted well around to the west. She would approach Koshka from the south in case she met any soldiers bent on chasing her, that way with luck she could flee away from the Executioner and possibly loose any pursuers in the deep forest.