Horde (Razorland #3)(102)

Just when I thought I couldn’t be more surprised, he produced another shock. “The emissary came from you? When we fought in the woods near Soldier’s Pond?”

“It was my suggestion to see if you were open to peace,” he admitted. “Many tribes met and discussed the best way to handle your war band. My clan has always been opposed to human extinction … and we didn’t want to make livestock of you, either, unlike some. After the slaughter at Appleton, I proposed many solutions but the old ones would hear none. And so the young split from the horde. Tonight, I offer you five hundred warriors willing to die because one of your people was kind. Can you say the same?”

I started to say I’d never met a gentle Freak, but then I realized I was looking at one. The pain he must feel at betraying his own people to make the world a better place … I understood it, because I was facing the same dilemma. Company D would see this alliance as perfidious, and they might hate me for it.

I hesitated, seeing the unmistakable benefit, but unsure if I could make it work. “I have less than two hundred men. Even if we join forces, it seems like a lost cause.”

“Other allies will come,” he said mysteriously.

“Who?”

“I will tell you nothing further until you agree to my terms. My men are camped on the far end of the isle. Meet them … and decide if, together, we can make the world better. That’s what the young Uroch want.”

“Uroch?” I repeated. “Who…?”

Szarok seemed to grasp what I was asking. “It means the ‘People’ and it applies to my clan, those willing to fight our kin to end this war.” He paused, as if weighing whether he should say more. “That’s why I’m willing to work with you. We can learn from one another.”

How astonishing. I marveled at the complexity I had never imagined—that Szarok’s tribe had a name. At that point, I suspected I must be dreaming—to hear him echo my own desires when I’d killed so many of his brethren. For peace to begin, someone must lay his weapons down. But that was a choice the Huntress could never make. My whole body trembled; the risks were so high and this could be the biggest—and last—mistake of my life.

“You could be leading me into a trap,” I said.

Szarok tilted his head in challenge. “And you could call down the whole village upon me. Yet you have not.”

When the enemy chooses to talk instead of fight, only a fool rejects the overture.

In my mind’s eye, I touched two fingers to my brow in a farewell salute to the merciless warrior they’d trained me to be, down below. I wasn’t a Huntress, not even close. I’d chart a new course from here, guided by the gentleness I’d learned from Tegan and Momma Oaks.

“I’ll go with you.”

“No!” To my astonishment, my brother, Rex, ran down the dock toward us, knife drawn. “I was waiting for you to gut this lying monster. Don’t trust it!”

“What are you doing here?” I asked softly.

Szarok stilled but he didn’t take hostile action. From what I could tell, he was leaving this complication in my hands. In the taut silence, broken only by the rush of the river behind us, I waited for Rex’s reply.

He burst out, “I had some ideas about how to handle the horde, and I came looking for you. When you went walking after dark, I followed, thinking I’d get to play the protective big brother for a change. And it’s a good thing too. I never dreamed you could be so gullible. When he delivers you to the horde, Company D will surrender. The war will be lost.”

Rex lunged then, and I threw myself between Szarok and my brother. He glared at me, knife upraised. “Get out of my way, Deuce. I vowed to kill every last one of these bastards for what they did to Ruth.”

I shook my head, desperate. “Don’t. Ruth wouldn’t want this. It’s wrong to blame him for what someone else did. You wouldn’t hold all men accountable for the crimes of one.”

Rex snarled, “But this isn’t a man. It’s a monster.”

Szarok said softly, “You hold a knife poised to strike your sister down, beloved of your mother and father. Who is the monster here?”

My brother stumbled back with a cry of horror, the blade falling from his fingers to clatter on the ground. I hugged him tight and he was shaking. Over and over, he whispered, “What, what have I become?”

For long moments I held him and Szarok was wise or kind enough to hold his peace. Eventually Rex stepped back, picked up his blade, and sheathed it. “I’m sorry. That was madness. But … I won’t let you do this thing alone.”

I glanced at Szarok in silent inquiry, and he responded, “If your brother can promise civilized behavior, I have no objection to two visitors in our camp.”

It went unspoken why; he had five hundred warriors on the Evergreen Isle, and if we proved aggressive, it would be easy to dispose of us. And any misbehavior on our part might result in death sweeping down on an unsuspecting Rosemere. On its own, that was more than enough to keep me in line, but I believed Szarok’s offer was sincere. He had not come lightly to the decision to fight his own people.


As we left, I whispered to my brother, “You seem to be taking his eloquence awfully well. I’d expect you to be more shocked.”

Rex aimed a rueful look at me. “I was, at first. But remember, I was listening to you two for a while, before I stepped in.”