Pixilated Page 4

  Better. "My Captain says he's putting you in the stockade. We have to get away."

  Still weak from his injuries, the elf lord struggled to his feet. He glanced quickly at the sleeping captain. "Give me your horse. The man will think I stole it."

  Kayseri shook her head. "I’m going with you."

  Again, the prince glanced at Kree. "The man will follow."

  "You bet he will." She picked up her saddle pack and moved toward the horses. "What he won’t do is send a squadron after me like he will if you steal my horse. He knows you lied to him. He told me so. And let's face it, you need his help."

  "The man does not want to help me."

  "He'll change his mind." She hoped. Kayseri swung onto Mistral’s back and held out her hand to help Eldren mount behind her.

  Eldren hesitated. "I will take his horse."

  "No!" Kayseri’s made a helpless gesture. "We can’t take Storm. Storm is the last gift he had from his father. He'd never forgive me."

  Eldren pulled himself up behind Kayseri hissing his disapproval. With a last regret-filled glance at her sleeping love, Kayseri flicked mischief into Storm. As the stallion wandered away, she chewed her lower lip, suddenly uncertain. He'd be furious. Forgive her? She'd be lucky if he didn't kill her.

  Chapter Four

  Pixies and horses don't mix. Damn the girl! Kree stuck two fingers in his mouth and blew producing a shrill whistle. This time he got results. Storm sauntered into the clearing. The horse nuzzled Kree's ear, looking none the worse for having spent a pixilated night. Damn the girl.

  Kree was glad he was alone because he wanted to put his fist through something. Preferably a prince of Thallasi, but just about anything would do. He cursed in a soft steady stream as he saddled Storm. She had picked the elf over him, and he was hurt. He was enraged. He was...all right face it, he was jealous. If anything, anything at all, happened to Kayseri, he promised himself, prince or no prince, he would hang that lying elf up by his balls. And the gods help any fool who got in the way. As for Kayseri, if she insisted on behaving like a child, he’d treat her like a child. He’d give her such a hiding it would be a long time before she sat a horse again let alone run off on one.

  Goddess damn the girl.

  It would take an hour to get back to Qets, and at least another half hour to pack his kit and brief his troopers. Kayseri and the elf would have a respectable head start by then. He toyed with the notion of provisioning along the way and discarding it. He could and often did disappear for a single night, but disappearing for two or three days would cause full-scale panic at his fort. Oh, and then there was Kayseri’s father to consider. What in the nine hells was he going to tell Lathan Bruin?

  Holy crow, Lath, I am as sorry as I can be about this, but your daughter ran off with an elf, who I think is in a lot of trouble. Only I don’t know what kind of trouble because he’s a lying pointy-eared goat like they all are. Oh, by the way, maybe he’s the rogue magic user the Ladies are interested in finding. Not pretty. Good thing he had a whole hour to work on his explanation. Maybe he’d go with, "Do you remember telling me that pixies and horses don’t mix? Turns out I should have listened."

  Kree pushed his aging charger as much as he dared reaching Qets in just under an hour. The sun was full up, reflecting cheerfully on the garrison’s blue tiled roofs. The sight of them brassed him off, he was not in the mood for cheerful. Most of the cadets were already hard at their chores. Two of his boys groomed and exercised his horses in the marshalling yard as he thundered past scattering a flock of speckled chickens in a hundred directions.

  He vaulted from the saddle with Storm at a canter, a dangerous, impressive dismount. The very same dismount done with more daring than skill had caused the accident that had injured his larynx. At the time, he'd thought it would end his military career, but it turned out having a soft voice forced people to listen to him.

  His cadets ran to attend him, and having lost two hundred eight-five pound of rider, Storm slowed to a walk stopping a few feet away. The captain was already halfway to the garrison by the time the boys caught up.

  "Nolie, I'll see my officers in the ready room in fifteen minutes. Fetch them."

  "Yes, My Captain." The young cadet sprinted away.

  "Davi, get Storm cooled down and fed. Have the stable master saddle Sirocco. I’ll need three days’ rations for four and feed for four horses. Have it ready within the half hour."

  He took the stairs two at a time. One floor below, he heard Nolie banging on doors and hollering, "Captain's ready room. Fifteen minutes." He also heard the curses following each piercing soprano announcement.

  Kicking open the door to his office, Kree stopped in his tracks. Lathan Bruin sat behind the desk in Kree's oversized leather chair, his feet propped upon the desk, casually spinning the empty whisky bottle with one hand.

  "Don’t start in on me, Lathan, because I’m not having a good morning." Lathan followed him into his private quarters and leaned against the doorframe while Kree stripped to the waist to wash up. "You must know what happened or you wouldn’t be here." He lathered his face to shave.

  "Just for grins, let’s say I don't know my daughter kicked you to the ditch and ran off with an elf."

  Pulling his nose to one side, Kree drew the razor along his cheek. "She did not kick me to the ditch." Why the hell was he defending himself? He flicked soap into the basin. "She did, however, run off with an elf."

  Lathan’s lips twitched.

  "Don’t make me kill you."

  "My daughter has changed some, wouldn’t you say?"

  "Changed? Your daughter is a Goddess-damned catastrophe."

  "Maybe, but she is a catastrophe riding fast horse. Don't say I didn't warn you."

  Kree gestured with the razor. "Do you want me to admit the mare was a mistake? Fine. I made a mistake. Don’t start."

  Lathan held up his hands in surrender. "While you have a razor in your hand? Never. I helped build your reputation with edge weapons."

  Kree noticed Lathan’s kit bag on the floor by the door. "I see you're packed. That’ll save us some time."

  "Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m bound for Othoni. They have plague there, fifty souls dead most of them children. My God sends me. I am trusting Kayseri safe return to you, but my daughter is full of mischief where you are concerned so take someone with you. Trust me on this. I've been married to a pixie for years; I am an expert on mischief."

  The captain blew out a breath, exasperated. "I’m taking Chana. The woman can track a hawk through the clouds, and she’ll make a suitable chaperone."

  "Good choice." Lathan opened Kree’s clothespress. "I'll help you pack. What do you need?"

  "Uniform. Clean underwear. Socks."

  "Chain mail?"

  The question in Lathan’s voice caused Kree to glance at his friend. "I don’t expect the elf to fight me for her, Lathan, but if he does, he’ll use magic. Chain mail isn't worth dirt against magic. Fact is dirt’s better. I can throw it in his eyes." He reached over the smaller man’s shoulder to grab a sleeveless buckskin tunic and saw Lathan’s eyes focus on the lovers knot still around his neck.

  "Please tell me my daughter didn't give you that thing."

  The captain shrugged.

  "And you accepted it?"

  Kree felt heat rush to his face. It made him feel foolish and that made him angry. "What did you expect me to do? Spit in her eye. I'll return it as soon as I can do it without hurting her feelings."

  "Do you really think you can do that? My daughter has loved you since she was a child."

  "That is not true. We’re friends who share the same birthday," Kree said while Lathan stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. All right, it was true. "I’ll think of something."

  Lathan sighed. "Chana is right. You are an idiot."

  "I try not to be." Kree jerked the lovers knot over his head breaking the cord in the process and tossed the offending object on top of the pile of clothing. "Namar's bloody tea
rs. Why did you bring her home anyway? I thought you wanted Katie to have...how did you put it...the advantages of Elhar." Against his will, a hint of bitterness crept into his voice. "Or maybe it was just the advantages of Thallasi you wanted? Think about it man. Do you really want Katie bound nice and tight to some pointy-eared Thallasi who will strangle her spirit by his very nature? "

  "Whereas you wouldn't...strangle her spirit?"

  Kree glared. "This is not about me."

  Lathan rolled Kree's clothing into tight bundle lovers knot and all and stuffed it into a worn leather pack before stretching out on the bed while Kree turn himself into a six-foot seven walking arsenal.

  "My children are mixed blood, Kree. To Wilderkin, they’re human. To humans, they’re Wilderkin. I just want my daughter to be happy. You can you understand that can't you?"

  Kree’s fiery temper died to a smolder. "I’m an idiot. Draw me a picture."

  "Like hell you are. You know history, geography, music, and warfare. You speak five languages. For the True God's sake, you draw topographical maps. Who does that? Don’t you realize indulging Katie’s fantasy about you is pure foolishness? Worse. It’s cruel." Kree moved his shoulders again to adjust his weapons-harness not in reply. "Accepting her lovers knot, letting her believe she has a chance with you...it’s not like you." Lathan was relentless. "Unless she does? How do you feel about my daughter?"

  "Frustrated." Kree blew out a long breath, gave a low chuckle. "Confused." When he glanced up and met Lathan’s gaze, all his white-hot anger had burned away. He shrugged.

  "Pixilated?" Lathan offered. "Think of something fast my friend. I want my daughter to be happy."

  "Yeah, I got that the first time."

  ***

  The assembled men and women rose when Kree entered the ready room. They always did. He hated it. "Take your seats gentlemen. Ladies.

  "Some elves got themselves into trouble out on the north river road last night. Two of the attackers and one elf died. I had planned to bring the other elf in for...safekeeping, but he escaped. You know how personally I take it when folks refuse my hospitality."

  Everyone laughed.

  "The men wore Temple braids. Bird, take a detail out there. Hustle the bodies over to the Temple Koppras. See if the Matriarch knows them. I don’t know what to tell you to do with the elf. He is...unusual. For now, I think the fewer people who see him the better. Handle it as you think best. The carriage." A slow grin spread across his face. "We’ll find a use for it.

  "Duncan. I don’t like thinking an armed force of say, fifteen or so, can waltz through our protectorate without our knowledge. Set up twenty-four hour patrols. We are supposed to protect folks around here."

  "The pixie woods too, sir?"

  "It was part of the protectorate last time I looked."

  "Mister Bruin could police it more efficiently, sir."

  The other officers met Duncan’s statement with snickers, and it gratified Kree that his first lieutenant took their jibes in his customary courteous fashion. First Lieutenant Aimery Duncan was in his early twenties. The men tagged him Shug either because his family held the largest cane plantations in the Addir Islands or because of his stunning good looks. Kree suspected the latter. The man was genetically blessed or cursed depending on point of view. Having chosen the military life, Kree felt sure Duncan saw his pure physical beauty as a curse. Fortunately, for Duncan, the man was also a tactical genius and a black-powder savant.

  "He could," Kree said. "But we have an understanding. I don’t wizard. He doesn’t warrior. It works for us." He patted his young officer’s shoulder taking the sting out of his tease. He loved the man. "Pixies are near the bottom of the magical power chain, Shug. They’re here and they’re pretty damn harmless. It’s past time you got used to them."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Any more questions? Anyone?"

  "What force are you taking?"

  This from his new blade sister, Berl, he thought her name was. She had arrived on the coach with Kayseri, and he had not interviewed her, nor formally accepted her service. It was disgraceful and needed immediate remedy.

  "I'm taking Chana." A rumble greeted his pronouncement and Kree slammed his hand on the table restoring order. He flashed his business grin. "There's no reason to think we’ll encounter resistance. All we’re doing is tracking one unarmed elf and a runaway half-pixie girl. I need a tracker and two fast horses. It's a solid fact." There were no more protests. He expected none. These people knew the rules.

  Kree turned to his aide, who busily scratched down every word he said in a garrison’s daybook. "Nadol, go over the Malachite petition. If there is anything there beyond the usual whining about the border and the taxes, parley with their ambassador. See if we can work out some sort of accommodation." Accommodation. The word made him want to spit. He was a warrior not a damn diplomat. All his instincts urged him to pound Malachite into dust. Oh, how he longed for the good old days.

  He scooped his kit up and stood. They all stood. They always did. He hated it.

  "That's all then. Sister Berl, welcome to Qets Garrison. You’ll handle the administrative duties in my absence." The sister’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline, and Kree grinned. "You mistake me, Sister. Duncan has command. You'll be handling day-to-day internal things. It'll give you a chance to see how our garrison runs. Nadol will make you look efficient. The same as he does for me."

  Everyone laughed.

  "I’ll see you people in a few days. Be careful while I'm gone."

  "First chance we get," they responded in unison. But Kree was already out the door. Their parting comments followed him down the hall.

  "...so, that is our Goddess-born captain."

  "Forget it, Berl."

  Kree’s lips twitched. Chana warned every Sister posted to Qets off him. Sometimes it even worked, not often but sometimes.

  The sky was clear and the sun was bright. It was going to be a hellish hot day. Davi waited in the marshalling yard with Sirocco. The horse was high anticipating exercise, and the boy struggled to hold him. Davi wore a hangdog expression that said he believed this whole sorry business with Kayseri was his fault. Seeing him, Kree figured he would have to think up something to rebuild the lad’s confidence.

  "Sirocco looks well, Davi. You’re taking good care of him."

  "He is a devil horse, My Captain, but I do my best."

  Kree handed his kit to the cadet. Beginning with the right hoof, he checked the animal over with expert hands. The admonition, be careful, was a longstanding garrison joke. He was always careful. His command style might appear reckless, but Kree never rode out without making sure his weapons, mount, and gear were what they should be. He never allowed any of his people to do so either. Sister Chana joined him in the yard, while he inspected their gear.

  Satisfied Kree gave young Davi an approving nod and drew him confidentially close. "Take charge of Nolie while I’m gone. You are senior. See to it he stays on top of his lessons and does all his chores." He winked. "Try to make him think it’s fun."

  Davi squared his shoulders. "My Captain may count on me."

  He touched his fist to the lad's chest. "I never doubted it."

  Swinging effortlessly into the saddle, Kree had barely touched Sirocco’s sensitive flanks before the gray desert-bred stallion exploded into motion. Chana’s horse thudded along behind.

  His fellows had laughed when Kree bought a horse good for nothing but pleasure riding. They howled the first cold winter when he had to build a heated stable for "Fawr’s Folly" as they dubbed his stallion. But Kree understood selective breeding. Hell, he was the product of it, and he recognized what they did not. If he bred a third of Sirocco’s impulsion and stamina into his stable, he would produce the finest cavalry horses the Kingdoms had ever seen. No one would laugh then. They'd be lining up to buy his horses.

  Thinking of horses made him think of Kayseri. She and the elf needed another mount. The closest place to get one was Tarburg a good-sized
town on the northwest side of the forest. It was a gamble, but one Chana agreed it was worth a try. If they did not find their quarry there, they'd double back and pick up the trail.

  They reached the town about four in the afternoon. The houses and shops looked sound, indicating Tarburg must have been a prosperous town at one time, but that time had long passed. The place had a neglected air Kree could almost touch. He asked a ragged man carrying a bundle of firewood on his back for directions to the livery and received a hostile stare and leftward jerk of the head.

  At the livery, Kree received more hostile stares and surly answers. "No, I ain’t seen no elves. Hope never to," said the stableman with a glance toward the conifer-covered mountains looming to the north. "Did the warrior want elves? Best he keep riding."

  What in the blue-eyed world did the man mean? There were no elves to the north, no elves anywhere except in Thallasi down near Elhar. But that wasn't true was it? There were these new, or rather old elves these Nhurstari.

  "Ain’t seen no pretty woman either. Did the warrior want a woman? There was a house above the tavern. O' course there's farmsteads. Did the warrior want directions? He ought a say so. No, them horses ain’t for sale. They belong to the squire. Did the warrior want the squire? He could find him in the tavern."

  Kree paid the stableman a gold lady for his dubious information and assured the man he did not want the squire. It was a generous bribe. One he thought might inspire the fellow to wait at least an hour before running down to the tavern carrying tales of warriors and elves. Chana disagreed chiding him for wasting gold. A quarter hour after riding into friendly little Tarburg, Kree rode out thinking about all the interesting things a Knight-Protector might learn if he rode his protectorate without banner, escort or uniform.

  At Chana's suggestion, they check the surrounding farms. The same sullen hostility met them everywhere they stopped. The farmers looked poor although their land looked rich enough to grow gold ingots. They all said the same thing; they hadn’t seen no elf. None o' their horses were missing'. Confident he was scarier than Eldren, Kree believed them. Something had happened to Kayseri and the elf. All he had to do with the daylight left to him was find out what.