Warrior of the Wild(25)
“The road is that way.” I point in the direction I intend for him to go.
I turn back to the tree.
“All right. You want to be left alone. I understand.”
I let out a sigh of relief.
“But there’s a problem,” Soren says. “You see, you saved my life. Now it belongs to you. I owe you a life debt. From now until I draw my last breath, I am your man.”
I blink.
Damn.
I know of the warrior code of honor, of course. But it didn’t occur to me that by saving this fool, I’d be shackling him to me.
Should have left him to die.
You don’t mean that. Irrenia’s voice cuts into my head, chastising.
Okay, I suppose I don’t mean that, but I can’t have this boy following me around all the time.
“I release you from your debt,” I say. “Think nothing of it.”
“You can’t do that. That’s not how it works.”
I groan. “Please go.”
He looks from me to the tree and back again. His lips purse. “Tell me what you’re doing and I’ll go.”
I fix him with what I hope is a death glare, but he doesn’t budge. If anything, he looks more determined than ever to stay.
Rock still in hand, I return to the tree, etching once more. “I’m mapping out Peruxolo’s domain.”
Silence from behind me. After finishing the mountain, I draw the thick wild off to the right, leaving a gap in the trees where I saw the trail.
I turn to the side of the tree and carve out a list.
FACE OF A MAN
BLOND HAIR
CARRIES AN AX
“You went to the god’s lair?” Soren finally sputters out.
“I did.” This boy is like an irksome fly that just won’t leave me alone.
“Why?”
“You said if I told you what I was doing you would leave. Are you going to dishonor yourself by lying?”
“No, I’ll take my leave,” he says hurriedly. “Stay safe, Rasmira.”
I listen to his footsteps as he retreats. I’m surprised Iric let Soren out of his sight after what happened last time. If it were my friend—
I stop that line of thought, because I realize I’ve never had a real friend, only a pretend one who sought to get me killed.
* * *
AFTER MUCH DEBATING, I decide not to pick up my fort and move camp. It’s too much work, and I’m certain I could take Soren if it came down to it. Though for now, I’m convinced he’s harmless. Annoying as hell, sure, but harmless. Besides, it would be terribly foolish of him to be out and about at night.
As I lie in my little fort that evening, sleep has a harder time coming. I’m not quite so exhausted, and blasted Soren has thoughts of the gunda going through my head.
Damn him.
Damn him and his cursed life debt. I don’t know how he thinks he can possibly do for me as I have done for him. He’s a banished warrior. He must not be very skilled with an ax if he was exiled.
But you were banished, a little voice reminds me.
That was different.
Not necessarily. You shouldn’t be so quick to judge until you know his story.
I don’t want to know his story. Just the thought of being near him again makes me uncomfortable. No more boys in my life. Never again.
I roll over and pull my blanket over my head.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, I’m quick and efficient. Lace up my boots. Place the bark strip back over the opening in my fort. Eat breakfast (which includes Soren’s berries, but I determinedly don’t think about where they came from). Haul on my pack. Grab my ax.
And then I’m on my way to the god once more.
I don’t know if an immortal can be killed, but I do know that if I’m to learn more about this being, I need to get inside the mountain where he lives.
Though unbidden, I think of the last Payment I witnessed. Of the village leader who was killed without more than a flick of the god’s wrist. If Peruxolo can kill that easily, what will he do to the person who attempts to take his life?
That’s not important, I try to assure myself as I take up a steady pace down the road. My eternal soul is what is important. I don’t know if it’s truly in jeopardy, but I’m not about to take any chances.
To occupy myself on the journey, I utter kind words about my sisters aloud for the goddess to record in her Book of Merits. I stretch my arms, roll my neck, try to think of what I’ll do if the god doesn’t leave his lair and give me an opportunity to search it.
It’s much too soon before I’m back in the woods across from the mountain. I climb the same tree I did yesterday, a tall number with yellow-brown bark and smooth branches, and I wait.
And I wait.
And I wait.
My limbs ache hours later, when I’m still holding so very still, staring at the dark seam in the mountain.
Then a blond head of hair finally steps out.
Peruxolo.
Just like yesterday, he walks right over to the tree line and starts following the well-worn trail through the undergrowth. This time, however, he doesn’t stop when he’s right below me. He passes by without pause.
Another day I will follow this trail and see where it leads, but for now, I want to see inside the mountain.