Terry Simpson - Etchings of Power

Close up, Ryne was even more formidable than he appeared from a distance. She barely reached past his midsection, and he was as wide in the chest as Misty with slabs of banded muscle covering his arms like metal plastered over flesh. The tanned skin of his face and arms-the only places not covered by armor almost matching his skin color-shone. His head actually reached past Misty’s withers by a good two feet. He kicked away the splintered divya , his leather armor shifting as if molded to him when he moved. This close, she couldn’t see a place on the armor that wasn’t covered by intricate artwork matching the tattoos on his skin. Black hair in a single thick braid, and tied with a string, hung to the middle of his back. Scars streaking from his left ear to his chin marred the sculptured planes of his face.

He whistled and his dartan trotted out from amongst the trees to him. The blue and green creature stood several hands taller than Misty. The lightstone dimmed, its Mater waning.

“How did you manage that?” She pointed at the ten corpses.

He shrugged. “I was faster than them.”

She eyed his massive frame, but a picture of him moving with the speed needed to kill ten men in a straight fight wouldn’t form. Sure, she’d seen him run across the Orchid Plains, but such speed was nothing compared to what would be needed to kill these men. Sakari must have helped. Or maybe Ryne was an Ashishin. But that didn’t make sense either. She wouldn’t be here if he was one of the Tribunal’s Matii.

“Didn’t Varick tell you I might kill you if you came close to me without my permission?” Ryne’s cold, emerald eyes shone with the moonlight.

“Your bodyguard just told me to come to you.” She eased her hand to her sword.

“I would not do that. My master does not like threats.” Sakari’s voice and eyes were lifeless pools.

“Yes. He did ask you to come to me, didn’t he?” Ryne’s white teeth showed in a humorless smile. “You’ve followed me all the way from Carnas to here. Tell me, Mariel, are you an Ashishin?”

For a moment, she considered lying to him. But his mention of Varick bothered her. Had he told Ryne her identity? Ryne’s head cocked to one side as he waited, but neither his eyes or his relaxed posture gave away anything.

“Yes,” Irmina replied. “I am Ashishin Irmina Nagel.”

Ryne’s eyes became cold pits of ice. “Good. If you’d lied to me, I would’ve killed you for sure. Now it seems as if you do have some sense in you. I wondered if you did when you decided to chase after ten Alzari in the employ of Amuni’s Children.” His eyes drifted to the corpses.

Irmina beat back the urge to suck in a breath, giving the bodies a level look instead. “I thought they were simple bandits. Besides I couldn’t sit by and let them kill you.”

Ryne shook with his sudden chuckle. “Even if it cost you your life?”

“Yes.”

His eyebrows rose steeply at her reply. He turned to his mount and reached into his bags. For the first time, she noticed the firewood near Ryne’s feet as his hand came away from his bags holding flint and tinder. He tossed them to Sakari.

Within moments, a fire roared a few feet from them. Deep eyes glittering with the flickering flames, Ryne regarded her with a bemused expression. The grunting barks sounded again, this time form several directions. He gazed up the slope. Why did those barks sound so familiar to her?

“You should dismount,” Ryne said, his tone neither a command or a request, but a voice that expected to be obeyed nonetheless.

She frowned at him. “Why? Around you I feel a lot safer mounted.”

“Sometimes you should just do as you’re told. It can save your life.” Ryne swept away the remainder of the broken weapons with his foot before he made his way to the fire with effortless grace, his muscles rippling under his armor with his motions. The movement enhanced his tattoos and the artwork on his armor, and she found it difficult to tell where the pictures on the armor ended and the tattoos on his arms began. The two were seamless. Even the orange reflection cast by the flames failed to diminish the rich colors.

She dismounted and trilled twice to Misty. Her dartan drifted next to his, and they mewled at each other and touched necks. She noticed Ryne’s smile at the two mounts.

That one tender look somehow gave her a degree of trust, however small. Irmina took a couple steps closer to where he sat next to the fire’s warmth. A sweet, musky smell drifted from the man. Even sitting he was almost as tall as her. Never before had she stood next to someone this large. He was neither handsome nor ugly. Except for his scars, his face appeared rather normal, nothing that would stand out in a crowd other than the size.

Ryne reached a hand out close to her and Misty warbled. Irmina took a step back. Ryne picked up a few fragments from the broken divya and tossed them aside.

“It’s fine, girl,” Irmina said, and made four short trills. Misty settled down.

“You can speak to her?” Ryne frowned and glanced at Sakari.

“After a fashion. I’ve trained with them all my life. I guess it just comes naturally.” She had no intention of telling him about her ability to commune with beasts.

Across from her, Sakari stared her down, eyes flat. She sat where she could keep an eye on them both.

“So,” Ryne began, his tone casual. “I’ll be honest with you. If you lie about anything I ask, I will kill you.”

Irmina stiffened, but nodded.

“Do you know who I am?”

“Besides that you’re called Ryne? No.”

“Well that makes two of us.” Ryne gave a wry smile. “Why have you been following me?”

“I was given orders to find you and return with you to my master.”

Ryne snorted. “You said master. You mean the Tribunal?”

“No. I don’t work for them.”

Ryne’s brows drew together. “But you’re an Ashishin. All of you belong to the Tribunal.”

“In a sense, that’s true but not all of us work toward the Tribunal’s cause. Some Ashishin take individual masters within the Tribunal. A well-known practice. This way, we retain some semblance of freedom.”

“Ah,” Ryne said. “So your master works for the Tribunal then.”

Irmina shrugged. “When their needs suit his, I suppose. I’ve seen many times where he does things contrary to what they wish.”

“So what’s your master’s interest in me?”

Irmina held Ryne’s gaze as she spoke, trying her hardest not to flinch or look away while at the same time maintaining a neutral tone to match his. “He believes you’re a key to our future. To surviving what is to come. He says he knows who you are. More to the point, what you are. He says he has the answers you seek.”

Ryne’s eyes twitched with her last words, a spark shining deep in his emerald eyes, but then in the next instant, it was gone. “That’s the second time in a few days I’ve heard that. Strange considering it’s been seventy years with no one having a clue. Regardless, you’ll have to give me more than that if I’m to follow you. Tell me, Irmina. Did you have anything to do with what happened at Carnas? With the Alzari?”

Irmina’s brow furrowed. What was the man talking about? “No. I sent a warning to Bertram about the infected lapra. And I knew nothing of these Alzari until the one I met in the Mondros who spoke to you. This Jaecar-” Memories of what occurred rose from where she’d blocked them off, freezing her where she stood. Ryne had befriended the man in the Mondros. Could he be a part of this advance of Amuni’s Children? Everything had happened so fast, she’d forgotten about Ryne’s connection to Jaecar. Her hand edged to her sword.