Gavril and the older bounty hunter fought, their swords clanging. Moria had her other dagger raised, one eye on them and the other on the younger man, who was now trying to rescue his scorching-hot blade from the fire. When the young hunter drew his short sword instead, Moria launched her second dagger. The young man let out a cry, falling to his knees as he fumbled to pull the dagger from his back.
Gavril did not have Tyrus's skill, but he'd been the prince's sparring partner for a reason--he was a fine swordsman for his youth. The bounty hunter seemed a middling one for his age. So they were matched, which meant Moria had every intention of helping, should Gavril falter. This was not a bout for honor. But when the younger hunter fell, it startled his master enough for Gavril to get the upper hand. A perfect parry knocked the man's sword aside. A sword tip against the man's throat stopped him from going for it.
"Come out, Keeper," Gavril called. "You ought to watch the young one."
"Which is why I'm right here, Kitsune," she said, walking up behind him with her short sword drawn.
"It's true, then." The older man snorted. "I told you, boy. The Keeper is indeed this traitor's whore."
"Yes, yes," Moria said. "It's an old story and a dull one. Also untrue, but I'll save my breath and swallow the insult."
The younger man lifted his second blade, but unsteadily, one dagger still in his shoulder, the other on the ground, the end bloodied.
"If you ever intend to properly use your sword arm, you'll put that blade down and let me tend to your wounds," Moria said. "Although, I hear it doesn't take long to learn to fight as well with your left. Only a decade or so of practice."
The young man's gaze shot to his master.
"Don't you dare, boy," the older man growled. "There's a sword in your hand, and that is an imperial traitor. You have a duty here."
"But is it a duty worth losing your livelihood for?" Moria said. "Particularly if your injuries mean I'll be able to pluck that blade from your hand before you can swing it? Also, if I am not your prey, then you have no true duty to apprehend me."
"Don't listen to her, boy."
In the end, the young man did lunge, but it was halfhearted, and she dodged easily, grabbing her dagger from the ground and turning on him, the two facing off.
"We lay down our blades together," Moria said. "Then I will tend to your wounds."
"We have no intention of killing you," Gavril said. "We simply cannot afford to have two imperial bounty hunters out here with us. We will tend to your wounds, and then take your weapons and your supplies."
"Oh, in other words, let us die slowly instead of quick."
"We passed a settlement within a half-day's walk," Moria said. "Taking your supplies only gives you cause to head for them rather than pursue us. Now, boy, show us you're brighter than your master."
He pulled the second dagger out of his shoulder, wincing and tossing it aside. The man began cursing his apprentice with dire threats should he dare lay down his--
Moria and the young bounty hunter laid down their weapons. The older man dove for his sword, but Gavril saw that coming and kicked it aside.
"I do not wish to--" Gavril began.
The bounty hunter dove again--this time at the sword in the fire. He howled as his fingers touched the white-hot metal handle, but he kept his grip, leaping up and swinging the sword. Gavril countered it with his own blade.
"Do not make me--" Gavril began again.
"Die? Yes. I will make you die, boy. The emperor may want you alive, but I'm sure your head will suffice. Your head on a pole at the palace gates."
Moria eyed her daggers. Gavril was parrying the blows, but making no attempt to land one of his own.
"I think you are mistaken," Gavril said. "The people of the empire would much prefer me alive. Executed as a traitor. A platform erected for me to commit ritual suicide before the crowd. Then my head put on a pole. I think that would quench the empire's thirst for vengeance far better."
The man laughed. "You'll say anything to avoid death, won't you? A coward, like your father. Do you honestly believe he was innocent of the charges against him? He was not. I was there. He withdrew from the field under cover of sorcery and left us to die. I saw it, boy, and you are as much a coward--"
The man charged then. Gavril went to parry, only to have nothing to parry, because the bounty hunter's sword swung the other way suddenly, heading for Gavril's neck. Moria lunged to knock Gavril aside, but he spun out of the way just in time. His own blade swung and the bounty hunter feinted . . . and a blow sliced clean through the man's forearm and into his chest. The man's arm fell. Then so did the man himself, gasping, wide-eyed, his severed arm pumping blood, more gushing from his side.
The younger bounty hunter bolted. Gavril followed. Moria grabbed both daggers and tore after them. Once Gavril saw she was coming, he circled back to deal with the other man.
Moria threw one dagger, aiming for the same shoulder she'd hit already. The dagger was still in flight when a dark shape shot from behind an outcropping of stunted trees. A black, four-legged shape running for the bounty hunter. Moria stumbled in her shock, Daigo's name on her lips. Her wildcat pounced at the same moment the dagger struck, and the young bounty hunter let out a scream of pain as he fell face-first to the ground. Daigo pinned him by the back of the neck.
"I'd say 'surprise,'" a voice called, "but someone ruined it for me."
Tyrus strolled out from behind the trees, walking toward her as casually as if they'd parted only moments ago.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Tyrus shot Moria a grin that made her heart somersault.
"Stealing my prey, are you?" he said. "I don't know who's worse. You or your wildcat."
Daigo growled. Tyrus walked over and stopped right in front of Moria, so close she could feel his breath on her upturned face.
"Hello," he said.
Then he bent and kissed her. A soft, sweet kiss that had her rising on her tiptoes to follow it as he straightened.
"I thought we should catch up," he said. "See how you were doing, if you needed our help. We'd have been faster, but, you know." He shrugged. "Dungeons. They're very inconvenient."
She laughed and kissed him again, her arms going around his neck in a brief, fierce hug.
"You can thank me for the rescue later," he said as she stepped back.
"Umm . . ."
"Not even going to pretend to cushion my ego, are you?"
"You came closer this time."
He sighed.
She smiled. "Given the number of times I seem to need rescue, think of them as practice drills. Eventually you'll succeed."
"You don't need rescue at all. That is the problem."
"Could someone please get this beast--" the fallen bounty hunter began.
"You did find me again," Moria said, ignoring the young man. "That's a feat."
"Y . . . yes. We did find you, didn't we, Daigo?"
The wildcat growled.
Tyrus continued. "We absolutely found you and did not accidentally stumble upon you while waiting for those bounty hunters to go to sleep so we could capture them. Absolutely not."
Moria laughed and kissed him again. "Do I presume you were their target then?"
"So it seems, though they're doing a very poor job of catching us considering we've been tracking them for half a day."
"Hello, Tyrus."
They looked to see Gavril there, his sword at his side, his face taut. Tyrus's gaze dropped to Gavril's blade.
"Do I need to draw mine as well?" he said, that jaunty tone evaporating from his voice.
"No, of course not." Gavril put his sword away. He looked at Moria. "The other one is dead. The blood loss was too much." When the younger bounty hunter groaned, he said, "We should tend to him."
He started toward the man. Then he stopped, turned slowly, and, his tone formal, said, "I am glad to see you are well, Tyrus."
Tyrus accepted the courtesy with a nod, and they walked to the bounty hunter
. Moria hugged Daigo while Gavril stripped off their captive's cloak and tunic and Tyrus stood watch. Moria retrieved water from the campfire and set about cleaning and then cauterizing the man's wounds. The first step came with muffled grunts of pain. The second brought screams, and Gavril had to stuff a cloth in the man's mouth before everyone within a quarter-day's walk heard him.
When they finished, the bounty hunter passed out. They stood, staring down at him.
"Well, that's inconvenient," Tyrus said.
Daigo chuffed in agreement. Gavril opened his mouth, but Tyrus cut him off with, "We'll bind him while we talk. I'll use the other man's belt. Leave that gag in his mouth, too, so he doesn't wake screaming."
Tyrus walked back to the dead man. Gavril stared after him.
"He's changed," he murmured when Tyrus was out of earshot.
"He's had to."
Gavril nodded, his gaze lowering. "I am sorry he's become involved in this. We were friends. Yes, I've denied it. But we were."
"I know."
"I should have known he'd follow you into this. I could tell . . . at the court . . . even on so short an acquaintance."
"He did not follow me, Gavril. He isn't a puppy."
A faint twist of a smile. "He used to be. That's what his father called him, when he trailed after me, letting me lead our adventures. He's not a puppy anymore. And you're right, Keeper--not a follower either. That is what I did not expect."
"He's an imperial prince. He knows how to lead. If you know him as well as you should, you know why he's never done so before."
Gavril nodded. "His brothers. Yes. I mean he's more adept than I would have expected. At leading. At fighting. At surviving. I can see why you care for him."
"I care for him because of who he is, Gavril. Not because he's a fine warrior."
"Who's a fine warrior?" Tyrus asked as he came back.
"Him." Moria pointed at the young bounty hunter.
Tyrus laughed. "I could tell. Good thing I didn't try to take him on myself. I might never have survived."
Belt in hand, he headed for the inept young bounty hunter. Daigo followed, growling.
"Yes, yes," Tyrus said, reaching to turn the young man over and bind him. "You're very brave around those who have lost consciousness and--"
The bounty hunter's hand shot out. He grabbed Tyrus by the tunic. Steel flashed. A thin dagger, from under the young man's clothes. Tyrus was already wrenching away, Daigo leaping on the bounty hunter to pin him. Gavril ran, sword out, Moria right behind him. She had her dagger poised, but Daigo was grappling with the bounty hunter, and she dared not throw it, for fear of hitting her wildcat.
The steel flashed again. That thin dagger headed straight for Daigo's throat. She launched hers. She had to. It was a moment too late, but Tyrus was not. His blade sliced into the young man's side an eyeblink before hers hit the bounty hunter's heart. As blood spurted from the boy's side, Tyrus wrenched out her dagger and slammed it in again, as deep as he could, giving the bounty hunter a quicker death.
Gavril and Moria stopped a couple of paces from the body. Tyrus pulled out the dagger, walked to the side, and cleaned it in the grass. When he handed it back to her, his hands shook. He noticed and gave Moria a rueful twist of a smile.
"It is not as easy as they make it seem in training," he said. "Taking a life."
"I don't think it ought to be."
He nodded, and she leaned against him, his hand going to her hip as he gave a shuddering breath. Then he pulled back, straightened, and looked about, still regaining his composure.
"I'll say a few words for both of their spirits," she said. "I'm not sure it works, coming from me . . ."
He squeezed her arm. "Thank you."
Gavril's swords clicked, and they turned to see him kneeling beside the young bounty hunter. He took the thin dagger from where it had fallen and examined the blade. It was needle-thin and seemed as if it would fold on impact, but when he tested the blade, it didn't bend.
"It's a stiletto," Tyrus said.
Gavril frowned at the unfamiliar word.
"I've read of them," Moria said. "They're foreign. From beyond the empire. Very rare. They're also known as assassin's daggers."
Tyrus nodded. "An imperial bounty hunter ought not to be carrying one. Which is no excuse for me nearly losing Daigo's life to the trick. Particularly after he tried to warn me." He turned to the wildcat. "My apologies."
Daigo swished his thick tail against the prince, his way of saying the apology was accepted.
"While warriors cannot carry hidden weapons . . ." Tyrus held it out to Moria.
"Thank you," she said. As she accepted, she recalled taking another dagger from a dead warrior--Orbec, back in the Forest of the Dead. While her intention had been to return the ancestral blade to his family--which she had--she'd still felt guilty taking it from his body. Now, even with no such purpose, she did not. She regretted the young man's death. It was senseless. Foolish, too, given that they'd tended to his wounds and obviously did not wish him ill. But he'd made his choice, and if his weapon could aid her, she would take it.
"We ought to go now," Tyrus said. "Say your words for the dead, please, Moria, while Gavril and I take what we can from their supplies."
TWENTY-EIGHT
As they walked, they told their stories of what had transpired since they'd parted outside Lord Okami's compound. Moria asked Tyrus to speak first. Their tale would end with the death of Kiri Kitsune, and Gavril didn't need to revisit that any sooner than necessary.
Tyrus had been held under guard at Goro Okami's compound, while his father had returned to the imperial city. His captivity had lasted only until he'd heard that the emperor's spy had reported Moria and Gavril had never arrived at Alvar Kitsune's compound.
Escape hadn't been difficult. Tyrus may have joked about dungeons, but it was simply house arrest, Lord Okami having presumed that once Tyrus calmed down, he'd see the futility of following Moria. Tyrus and Daigo had escaped and found the place where Sabre had reported meeting up with Moria and Gavril.
"We discovered the remains of your camp, along with signs of a wagon train heading up to it and then retreating north. Presumably you'd been taken captive. We followed the wagon as best we could, but your wildcat needs tracking lessons, Moria."
Daigo fixed Tyrus with a baleful look.
"Yes, I know," Tyrus said. "You aren't a hound or a hunting cat, but you could try harder. It's never too late to learn new skills."
Daigo growled and laid his head against Moria's leg as they walked. That was usually something only Tova would do with Ashyn, Moria and Daigo being less overt in their affections. But tonight he stayed close, and she rubbed him and scratched his ears and felt one hollow part inside her fill again.
"We lost the trail completely this morning," Tyrus said. "Your wagon must have ridden over hard ground, and we could no longer track it. I knew exactly where I was, but your wildcat got hopelessly lost."
Daigo rolled his eyes and flicked his tail at Tyrus, who laughed. Moria saw Gavril watching them. In their days together on the Wastes and beyond, Daigo had gone from barely tolerating Gavril to grudgingly accepting his companionship, a far cry from the easy camaraderie Daigo had with Tyrus.
"That's when we found the bounty hunters," Tyrus continued. "We overheard enough to realize they were looking for me, so we planned to attack under cover of night. If we'd seen their poor fighting skills, we could have struck sooner. But then we'd never have found you, so . . ." He smiled at her. "It all worked out."
"It did."
"Now tell me your story."
Moria explained that their captors had said they'd only stumbled upon them, when they'd actually been in pursuit of Kiri Kitsune.
"Your mother's out here?" Tyrus said to Gavril. He caught the young warrior's expression. "Gavril?" He turned quickly to Moria. "What--?"
"My mother is no more," Gavril said. "I will . . . I'll let Moria explain. She's . . . better at such things. I sh
ould--I should check over that rise ahead." He strode onward before either could speak.
Moria told Tyrus what had happened. With each word, the horror on his face grew. When she finished, he jogged ahead to Gavril.
"I am deeply, deeply sorry," Moria heard him say.
"Thank you," Gavril replied. "And I know your father did not do this, though you're refraining from saying so."
"I do not wish to belittle your loss by defending him, but I'm glad you do not suspect him of it. My father is capable of many things, some of them cruel and even callous, but--"
"If he took my mother, he would do much as Lord Okami did with you. House arrest. Even if he felt he had to make a stronger statement, he would never have killed her and certainly not in such a fashion. Someone did this to frame him, in the expectation that others would not realize he isn't capable of such monstrosity."
"Thank you for understanding that."
"I understand much," Gavril said, his gaze dropping to his still-bloodied blade. "I always did. I simply did not wish to."
With that, silence descended, and as it grew, the strain between Gavril and Tyrus returned, like a metal bar that kept them together yet apart. They walked within a few paces of each other but said nothing. What had happened outside Lord Okami's compound was not easily overcome. Moria knew that, for Tyrus, learning Gavril had held her captive had been a greater betrayal than anything that had come before it.
Yet Tyrus didn't seem entirely comfortable with her either. He'd seemed to be, when they'd first met, with his smiles and kisses. But now he seemed anxious, walking close enough to brush her hand with his, but never taking it. He kept looking over at her, as if trying to work something out. When they finally stopped for the night, Tyrus asked Gavril if he'd make camp while Tyrus and Moria found water.
They walked until they reached a stream and filled their waterskins. As Moria rose, she nearly bashed into Tyrus, standing right beside her with an oddly guarded expression on his face.
"Something's wrong," she said.
He started to shake his head. Then he stopped and cleared his throat. "I need to know . . . That is, I ought to ask . . ." He looked back toward camp and went quiet.
"Tyrus . . . ?"
"Has it changed?" he blurted.
"Has what changed?"