Wolfwalker - Wolf In Night Part 14

"Not yet," he agreed. "It took Mama years to be able to read the Grey Ones' memories well. You could give yourself a few days." If she had managed to read any memories at all, her wolf must not be a pup. It would be harder for her, then, to stay among men if the Grey One was already wild.

The sound of drumming hooves reached them faintly from around the wide curve in the road, and both c.o.c.ked their heads to listen. "Two riders," guessed Payne automatically. It was an old game.

"Three," she countered. "There's not enough distinction for two."

He caught the hoa.r.s.eness in her voice and gave her a cross look. "You're cheating."

She grinned. She could hear the rustle of a dik-dik lizard, the flutterings of tree sprits as they swooped overhead, but she couldn't quite hear Rishte. "I would if I could," she admitted. "But your group scared him back up the hill. He can't see any better than you can."

"And I should believe you?"

"When have I ever tricked you?" she asked virtuously.

He raised his black eyebrows. Then he began ticking off the examples on his fingers. "Two months ago, when you slipped red pepper into my morning rou, told me I was late, and I gulped half of it down before I noticed. Then there was last ninan, when you got old Martonne with her sagging lips to say she was mooning after me in front of the entire fireside. And then there was the day after that, when you got me to challenge you-"

Her grin widened.

"-and chose puffb.a.l.l.s for the weapons."

Her grey-violet eyes sparkled. "A man going up for Test should be ready for anything."

He snorted. "Anything like a weapon, okay. But puffb.a.l.l.s? It was the stupidest challenge I've ever had. I looked like I'd been in a feather fight. Vina's brother has been calling me Featherhead."

"Payne Featherhead," she teased. "I like it."

"Aye, now there's a name I want to live with for a long time. All I can do is pray you get us into another sc.r.a.pe so I have a chance at another rep-name." An edge entered his voice. "And not another sc.r.a.pe like last night. Moonworms, Nori. Raiders, worlags, and plague?" He pushed her chin with one finger to get a better look at a long scratch.

She jerked her head away. "I wouldn't have done it, but Rishte-"

"Called," he finished shortly. It would have been strong, that Call. He'd seen it in other wolfwalkers, when their partners pulled them out of the cities. Nori was more sensitive than most, and if Rishte was at least a year old, his voice would be strong already.

The riders came into sight down the road, and Nori hid a grin at their number. "Well?" she prompted.

"Three," he admitted sourly. They were riding heads-down in a tight knot, hunched low, their features obscured as manes whipped around their faces. Two glanced over at Nori and Payne, then tucked their heads down again.

"Older sisters are always right," Nori said smugly.

"It won't be that way when I bond."

"You'll probably do it sooner than I," she admitted. "The Grey Ones have always liked you better."

"Maybe," he admitted. "But they hound you more closely."

"They want another Dione." They exchanged wry glances. "Here," she said, picking another set of seedpods.

"Here, yourself." He pulled out her scout book and handed it over. "It's a bit worse for the wear, but still usable. Best mark down the-" He automatically dropped his voice to a whisper. "-plague place."

He watched her make her quick, neat notes. He forced himself to ask, "You think we should check out the site before we report to the council?" He dreaded her answer. They were still days from Shockton, the Test town. His Test, his Journey a.s.signment-she could take them away with a single word.

She understood his carefully casual tone. No matter what her brother did, no matter which venges he rode, where he studied, how well he fought or scouted or worked, no one ever said, that Payne neBentar, he's a good man to have at your side. Instead it was, neBentar, he really takes after his father.

Or, neBentar, bet he got that move from the Wolven Guard. Worse, Payne had had to look out for her all their lives, and it was her fault he'd been raised that way. Fear made her unreliable, violence made her sick, and both dogged her like the wolves. Payne had earned the rep-name The Brother because of her.

If they weren't careful, they'd be tied together till the day she died.

She shook her head. "It's plague, Payne. If it's not just a memory, neither one of us could survive it.

Mama's the only one who can check it out. We can't even risk sending word of it ahead. If the message was intercepted . . ." She shrugged. "There's time enough to tell Mama in person and let her take care of it."

"Someone else might find that spot accidentally."

"I doubt it. There was a wagon track in the area, but it was at least two winters old."

"Harvesters wouldn't go back in there till fall."

"Aye, and the trails in that area are years overgrown. If it wasn't for the wolves, I wouldn't have known where I was."

He snorted. She always knew where she was. It was one of the few things he envied about the taint in her mind.

She finished her notes and handed the book back. "My thanks for finding that. I was afraid I'd have to try to re-create everything. I borrowed a map from Hunter to mark the trails just in case."

"Looks like you borrowed more than that," he teased. He nodded toward the knives at her belt. "We found all your blades," he added, and lost his teasing tone. "But your bow is so much kindling."

She shrugged. "An easy loss."

"Maybe a better loss than you know," he said darkly.

She laughed, not understanding. "I never liked that bow."

"Neither did someone else."

"What do you mean?"

"The rope's been damaged."

She was surprised by the non sequitur. "You fell on it at the cliff?"

"Not me. But there's a flat spot, about ten meters in from one end."

Ten meters. Far enough in that it wouldn't be immediately noticed when knotted. She regarded her brother soberly. A flat spot in the rope wasn't a trivial problem. When someone fell on a roped climb, the falling body picked up momentum on the descent. When the climber hit the end of the rope, the rope stretched until either the fall was stopped and the body began to spring back, or the rope broke instead.

Even when a rope held, a few strands usually broke inside the protective sheath. It was why one never used a rope-or other gear-that had taken a fall. One never knew how many strands were still good inside that sheath. But this rope was almost new, and neither she nor Payne had fallen.

"You're not curious as to how it happened?"

"Oh, aye, I am." She stared blindly at the ridge. "I've felt . . . watched in the caravan."

"Watched?" he repeated. "Not just uneasy? Watched like how?"

"Like that time up on Dizzy Ridge," she said slowly. "When the raiders were waiting at the cut." She hesitated. "I could swear someone has been in the wagon."

He stilled. "You didn't tell me that."

She looked uncomfortable. "It was a woman's scent on the gear."

"Moons, Nori, I'd never bring a woman back there."

She looked away. "Oliana is being fairly persistent, as is Arsala."

"Aye, so was Vina. But you know I'd never bring any of them into our wagon. You and I, we've always shared berth."

"Aye, but now you say that the rope's been damaged. And then there was my knife."

He frowned. "We found all three of your knives, and except for the ichor that you'll have to polish off, they all look fine to me."

"I've been carrying four knives, not three."

"Since when?" he demanded.

She looked even more uncomfortable. "Since a few days ago, when we hit Sidisport."

"You didn't tell me that, either."

She shrugged her apology. "That knife shattered like a dried noodle even though it barely pierced the worlag."

He nodded curtly. "Your bow was rotted, Nori. Uncle Wakje has the shards to prove it." They stared at each other. "There's someone in the caravan who doesn't want you hunting."

"Or either of us climbing."

"Or you using your knife."

She gazed without seeing down the road. "There have been accidents all up and down the caravan."

As one, they looked at his jerkin pocket where the thin scout book hid.

Nori cleared her throat. "Perhaps we should watch each other's backs more closely for a while."

"Aye," Payne said dryly. "I was thinking the same thing."

They started back, and Nori's mind whirled with exhausted thoughts. She didn't even notice that she continued to pick the seeds from the few vines that stretched through the barrier bushes. It wasn't until Payne poked her sore shoulder that she realized she was standing, staring into the shrubs.

She blinked. "Sorry."

"You can't get them," Payne said. "And we need to get back."

"What? Oh." She had been thinking about codes and raiders and something on the edge of her mind as she gazed blindly at a full set of seedpods that hung a meter inside the shrub line. "Actually-" She squinted. "-the bushes are fairly thin here, and two minutes won't hurt. I think I can get my arm through if you let me have your gloves."

Payne sighed and pulled them from his belt. "You're going to gouge the heck out of them."

"You need a new pair anyway. Besides, look at them. Totally in shadow and hard as rocks. They've got to be worth an entire silver by themselves." She pulled on the well-used leather. In the back of her mind, Rishte reached for her thoughts, curious as to what she was doing.

Payne watched her work her arm toward the ripe pods and c.o.c.ked his head as he caught a sound of drumming himself. "Four riders," he stated quickly before Nori could speak. "Coming up fast from the south."

"Three," she returned absently. She grinned at his obvious sourness and continued to work her arm through the lattice of thorns. One lay in a new, long, shallow scratch, and she halted for a moment.

"Dangit, I just need a few more inches."

"Nori-girl-"

"Hush. You'll break my concentration."

"You sound like Mama."

She rolled her eyes. "Shut up," she said instead.

He grinned, but fell silent.

Down at the bend in the road, the riders pounded into view. Payne muttered a curse, and Nori hid a grin as he acknowledged that, yes, there were only three.

Nori's hand closed on the pods. "Gotcha," she said smugly. She started to withdraw her arm.

Payne glanced back at the oncoming riders. "You know, those riders seem like the same ones tha-"

He broke off. "Dik spit, Nori," he cried out. "Get down."

She twisted to see. Thorns scratched her arm and she froze. The riders had suddenly spurred to a full gallop. Grey snapped in her head, and Nori saw bows come up, nocked like a midnight raid. They thundered toward her and Payne.

"Get down." Payne reached out to jerk her away from the bushes.

"I can't," she cried. "I'm not free."

Payne whipped out his sword. "Hurry, dammit!"

Back on the verge, Wakje and the others had idly watched the trio pa.s.s. When the riders' bows came up, Wakje didn't even hesitate. The ex-raider rolled to his feet and sprinted for his dnu as if he'd expected an attack from the get-go. Fentris, standing by the dnu, was three full seconds behind him.

Hunter and Kettre, back on the verge, had to run to reach their mounts.

The three riders thundered down on Nori and Payne. Payne took a high guard in front of Nori, but it was a useless gesture. One sword on the ground, against three bows on target? Nori felt the yellow, slitted gaze deep in her mind watch the threat like a man tied down, like a man who must wait for the blow. Grey howls burst through in her head.Wolfwalker- She saw the bows, the bent tension of each nocking, the lead rider's intense expression. She saw the instant in which each dnu hit that perfect moment of stability in its gait. She smelled the sudden fear in her brother as he shoved her farther behind him, almost thrusting her into the thorns. Then the riders' bolts released.

Time unstuck. Her mind broke free and submerged into grey and yellow. Like water, she slid Hunter's knife from her belt and slung it at the lead rider. The movement jerked her arm in the thorns, and they ripped shallowly across skin. Blood-scent filled her nose. Rishte howled. The knife guard caught on the lead man's bow and tumbled through his jerkin. It slashed leather, not flesh as the rider jerked himself back. The first war bolt tore past her shoulder. She twisted, left blood on the thorns.

The second man's bolt whapped toward them. Payne cried out. Nori stifled a scream as the third bolt slapped past her face. Rishte howled again as he raced toward her through the forest. She twisted and yanked, frantically now, bent and shoved at the thorns. Her heartbeat was a racehorse. She saw a bolt aimed. She s.h.i.+fted like water. The arrow ripped through shrubs at her hip. The lead raider drew again.

She tucked, and a fifth arrow tore the mesh cap from her head instead of skewering her eye. She saw movement to the side and knew her uncle was at a dead gallop. The ex-raider jammed his bow tip in his stirrup and nocked it in a movement perfected with decades of raiding runs. He fired almost before the third wave of bolts reached their marks.

The grey sharpened in Nori's head. Her eyes hurt with black and white. Movement, angle. She saw Wakje, intent as a badgerbear coursing its prey. The lead attacker: a dark face, swarthy face, yellowed teeth and mustache. Another bolt that split the leaves between her arm and torso. Twenty meters behind Wakje, Fentris nocked his bow like her uncle. Far behind, Kettre leaned hard on her dnu, screaming her war cry. Hunter was already even with Kettre's tired dnu, nocking his bow and standing in the stirrups as he brought up a bolt. She saw the second raider: tanned, narrow face, and long, bony hands. She saw his eyes as he thundered past, terrifying eyes that burned at her: die,die. She reached and yanked at her brother. He slid with the motion. The bolt pa.s.sed between her arm and his side. Payne twisted, ducked back, and the other cut across his back. The third raider: a tall man, heavy shoulders, jerkin old and worn, and his hands, steady, steady on the bow, and the bolt piercing air like lightning- Wolfwalker!Rishte's iron legs flew across dirt, logs, long gra.s.s, ferns. Nori's hands grabbed for her other knife, but it wasn't there, wasn't there. Her lips curled back. Her free hand clenched. She didn't know she was snarling.

Payne jerked up his sword like a s.h.i.+eld and threw his own short knife hard. It sank into the third man's gut and stuck. There was a cry, but the rider didn't fall off, and the dnu were away, away down the road, the riders hunched low for speed.