Warsong (Chronicles of the Warlands, #6)(3)

“And when will that be?” Joden asked.

“When it is,” Quartis shrugged. “Focus on the task at hand. Sing the berry song. Gather dung.” He offered the basket to Joden. “Not the fresh ones, mind you.”

Joden puffed out a breath, and took the basket. “Yes, yes, something so obvious that there is not even a song about it.”

“Maybe you’ll write one,” Quartis chuckled, looking up at the sky. “I’m off to fill the waterskins. You might as well start a fire with your dung, the others should be returning soon. Hopefully with fresh meat, or it’s gurt and dried meat for the nooning.”

Joden grunted, spun and returned to where he and the other Singers had set their tents, hidden in the grass. Their saddles sat in a circle, quivers of lances resting against them. Their horses grazed close by.

Joden cut away the turf, clearing a spot for their fire, and started to work.

Quartis returned, dropping full waterskins at his side. “I think I hear—”

Joden stood. The sound of hoofbeats came over the grasses. “Riding hard,” he said.

“Too hard,” Quartis drew his sword. “What—”

Two horses burst over a nearby rise, Para and Thron in the saddles. Both riders were bent forward, the horses covered in sweat, foaming at the mouth. “Down, down,” the words screamed from Thron’s throat.

“What—” Quartis started.

From behind the riders rose a nightmare on the wind.

Winged, black, and huge, it blotted the sky, gaining height and soaring after the riders.

“Arrows are useless,” Para cried as they pounded past.

The monster glided past Joden and Quartis, focused on its prey. Joden heard it hissing as it slid overhead, a beat of its wings bringing a foul stench to his nostrils.

Joden leaped for his saddle, and the quiver of lances. He grabbed one, and threw another to Quartis. They both started after the monster.

The creature was beating its wings now, rising like a hawk gaining height on a mouse. Joden’s heart raced. There was no way they could give chase.

Para threw a glance over her shoulder. Joden saw her lips move, and then she and Thron parted, each horse veering off at an angle.

The monster followed Para.

Thron was circling back toward them, riding hard. Quartis stopped running, holding up his lance.

Thron grabbed it from his hand as he passed and raced after Para.

Joden kept running, angling to meet Para, who was circling back as well. The monster was over her, the long sharp claws of its feet close to her back, reaching out—

The creature lunged, missed her but scraped the horse’s hind end with its claws.

Her horse squealed, and kicked high. The creature swooped to the left, rose again with a beat of its wings, making a seemingly impossible tight turn, wings spread wide.

Para leaned in the saddle, urging her horse away to the right, in the opposite direction, racing past Joden. He caught a whiff of sweat and blood as they ran past, but his focus was on the monster, turning to pursue its prey.

Thron raced past him and threw his lance.

The sharp weapon flew, catching the creature on the downstroke of its wing, tearing the leathery skin. The creature let out a loud screech and floundered, falling into the grass and sliding, its good wing beating against the ground.

Joden hunched down, running in close, waiting for a chance.

The beast raised its head to the skies, trying to lurch to its feet. But Joden was close, close enough to take a risk. He ran in, and with a bellow, rammed his lance into the creature’s chest.

The monster went mad, thrashing in its pain, its tail now over its head.

Joden hit the ground, curled in a tight ball, and covered his head. He could hear air whistling from the wound. With any luck—

He heard the cries of the others as they taunted the monster in its death throws, causing it to lurch and move, dragging itself over him. The creature’s belly pressed down, cutting off air and light. The skin was leathery, smooth as it grated over Joden. The smell was enough to kill him.

The creature moved then, enough that he could roll free, running away as soon as he was on his feet, to the cheers of the others.

The monster took some time to die, but die it did.

In the end, they all stood there, around the body, breathing hard, looking at one another with hope and relief and terror.

“What the hell is that thing?” Quartis panted, bracing himself on his knees.

“I don’t know,” Para gasped, trying to catch her breath. “We tried arrows, but nothing hurt it, so we took a chance to lure it back to you. We thought the four of us could kill it, but look.” She pointed north.

Joden turned, squinting against the sun. In the far distance there was a disturbance in the air, as if hundreds of the beasts were flying, circling—

“Is that the Heart?” he asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“I think it is,” Thron said softly.

“We should return—” Joden took a step forward.

“No,” Quartis coughed and spat. “No, we have strict orders. Straight south for two days then wait.” His voice strengthened. “Here we stay, candidate.”

“I thought that thing had me,” Para said. “I must see to my horse.”

“I’ve bloodmoss,” Joden said, releasing the urge to get on his horse and go. “It might aid it.”