Marsheila Rockwell - Legacy of the Wolves

“Skunk,” Andri said, certain of it.

“We don’t know that,” Ostra cautioned, but Irulan overrode him.

“Who else could it be? You know how rare that coloring is.”

Ostra nodded, the claws on his necklace clattering against each other with the movement.

“To the south, you say? Can you be more specific?”

The shifter hesitated, making the sign of Balinor’s tusks to ward off evil before answering.

“Cairn Hill.”

“I’m a paladin, Irulan. I have no reason to fear the undead, if any truly do haunt this graveyard.”

“I’m just saying, I don’t think we should rush off unprepared.”

Andri stopped in his tracks and turned to face Irulan. She’d been arguing with him since they left Ostra’s tent to purchase horses, saying they should question Kira’s brothers first, or Skunk’s old neighbors, to try and learn more. Ordinarily, he would agree, but Cairn Hill was two days’ hard ride to the south, and the longer they dallied, the more likely it was that Skunk would strike again. And the murdering bastard’s killing spree had gone on far too long already, beginning with his poor, defenseless wife.

Mindful of the shifters who moved about the camp or peered curiously at them from inside tents, he kept his voice low, but he could not hide his impatience. “Why are you so opposed to traveling to this hill? The undead hold no fear for those who follow the Flame, Irulan-you know that. If you are truly that frightened, then stay behind me. I will protect you.”

Irulan’s lips pulled back in a snarl, and she looked as if she were about to launch herself at him-and she probably would have, had they not already gathered a sizeable audience in the short time since they’d stopped walking.

“I don’t need your protection , you arrogant ratspawn,” she spat at him, her claws flexing at her sides. “I just don’t particularly want to walk into a trap because you’ve decided you need to avenge some weak-willed girl who didn’t have enough sense to get out of a bad situation while she still could.”

“This isn’t about Kira-” he began, but Irulan cut him off.

“Kira, Kira,” she parroted back at him. “Tell me, Andri-what’s my brother’s name?”

Andri opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again.

He didn’t know.

Oh, he’d heard the name, surely, but he could not now recall it, or the names of any of the other accused. The victims, yes. He could rattle those names off in his sleep. But the ones still living, the ones he could still help-they were somehow less real to him, their plight less urgent.

Not so surprising I’d feel that way, he thought, since I’ve always believed the same was true of myself.

But these shifters deserved better from him than he’d ever be willing to do for himself. Irulan deserved better.

“You’re right, and I’m sorry. It’s just that this is our best lead-our only lead-and I want to follow up on it as quickly as possible. Every moment we delay could mean another death in Aruldusk.”

His apology seemed to appease Irulan. She expelled her anger in a long sigh and resumed walking. As Andri fell into step beside her, their audience dispersed, returning to their own business about the camp.

“I know this isn’t your fight, not really. How could it possibly mean as much to you as it does to me?”

They walked on in silence, and Andri tried to think of a way to respond. She was right. It wasn’t his fight. He wouldn’t even be here if the Keeper had not specifically asked him to come. But he was a paladin, sworn to uphold the rights of the innocent and essay the battles they could not. In that sense, every fight against injustice was his, this one included.

He was about to tell her that, when she said something so softly he didn’t quite catch it.

“What?”

She looked askance at him, and he was surprised to see she was blushing.

“It’s the horses,” she said again. “I hate horses, and I’m a horrible rider. And I know there’s no other way to get to Cairn Hill.”

“Wait.” Andri put his hand out, touching the soft fur of her arm to stop her. “You’re a ranger, and you don’t like horses?”

She gave him an embarrassed grin. “So? You’re a paladin and you don’t like Cardinals.”

He laughed at that.

“Come,” she said, pointing between two tents, though Andri’s nose could have told him they were nearing their destination if he’d been paying more attention. “We’re almost there.”

As they reached the corrals, Andri grabbed her arm one last time.

“Javi,” he said. “Your brother’s name is Javi.”

She rewarded him with a smile brighter than the sun.

They’d ultimately chosen to ride double on a heavy warhorse, not in small part due to the exorbitant prices the shifter handlers were asking-not that Andri couldn’t have paid the cost twice over without blinking, but it was the principle of the matter. He wouldn’t have paid that much for a Valenar stallion, let alone the Aundairian nags the shifters were trying to pawn off on them. But even more compelling than the lower cost was the horse itself-a chestnut stallion that stood a respectable sixteen hands, he was the only one in the lot that didn’t roll his eyes and shy away from Irulan’s obvious unease. Since Andri did not relish the thought of fighting a skittish mount all the way to Cairn Hill and back, he paid the shifter’s fee without haggling.

As it was, they spent the first day arguing over every stop he made to pray.

“We rush out of camp like the fiends of Khyber are on our heels, because ‘any delay could cost another life,’ and yet you have no qualms about stopping for an hour to pray a Mystery or two? That’s insane!”

“Irulan,” Andri replied as calmly as he could, given that he’d been trying to explain his reasoning to her almost since they mounted up. At least this time, she’d had the decency to let him finish the Fifth Mystery-Tira’s Sacrifice-before snapping at him. “I have to pray. It’s where I get my ability to heal and to turn back the undead. If there is anything lurking in that graveyard besides Skunk, then the more time I spend in prayer before we get there, the better. And we have to stop to give the horse a rest, and let him eat. Driving the poor beast into the ground won’t benefit anyone.”

“That’s all well and good, but we’re using up precious daylight! Unless you really want to get to a haunted burial ground and fight a feral shifter on his home territory after nightfall?” She tossed the remains of their short meal into her pack and went to stand by the horse, impatiently waiting for Andri to mount. “Why can’t you just pray while we’re riding?”

He hoisted her up into the saddle and climbed up after her before responding, with some alacrity, “I’ve been trying .”

After that, Irulan stopped complaining and they rode in silence, for which Andri offered up his unabashed thanks to the Flame.

Despite riding well past dusk and rising with the sun, limiting their stops, and driving the horse harder than Andri wanted, it was nearing evening on the second day when they spotted the hill. Not truly a cemetery, Cairn Hill was one of many places throughout Khorvaire where armies, too far from their own countries during the Last War to bear the fallen home, had instead buried their comrades on foreign soil. Since the end of the War, some families had come and erected small monuments in memory of their loved ones, but the majority of the graves were marked with simple piles of stones, some only a few feet high, and some as tall as a man.

As they neared, Irulan motioned for Andri to stop the horse. She jumped lightly from the stallion’s back and bent down close to the ground, examining the brush. She walked slowly to the left, kneeling at one point to grab a handful of earth that she sniffed deeply before letting it sift through her fingers. Andri was impatient to follow her and see what she had found, but he held his position, instead scanning the terrain ahead. The cairns were painted in rich shades of vermillion and scarlet on the west while their lengthening shadows stretched out to east, providing more than enough cover for someone to lie in wait. His eyes jumped from stone edifice to tombstone to marble statue, alert for any sign of movement. So focused was he that Irulan’s voice at his knee startled him.