Return of the Stormcriers

CHAPTER 34 - BURY A FRIEND

It felt as if a hot, burning coal had imbedded itself into Matt's heart as Cliff's words washed over him, burning slowly into the core of his being. He had stood directly beside a very alive Derek just minutes before; watched as he loosed an arrow at Moonshadow that would have struck true against any other man. With a jolt of fear, he realized that whatever Moonshadow had thrown in retaliation, that had flown a mere foot from Matt's own head, had delivered the killing blow to his traveling companion. If the assassin's aim had been off even a fraction of a degree it could very well be Matt who lay dead, not Derek. How had his aim been so true? He had fired his projectile while standing out of a roll? The speed, strength, and precision that had been on display was unnatural, he decided. A shiver crawled down his spine. How were they supposed to kill a man such as this? Was the assassin even human?

  Reaching down towards Derek's unmoving body Cliff removed a small, silver knife, with a blade no more than five inches from its slender tip to the top of the leather-wrapped handle from the soldier's throat. Lifting the weapon carefully up towards his face he seemed to sniff the blade before wrinkling his nose in disgust and carefully setting it down in the dirt.

  "Poison," the veteran soldier growled. "A very potent one." He wiped his hands on his leather jerkin absently as he began to stand.

  "I am sorry to say it but we must leave now if we are to capture Moonshadow," Jason grumbled solemnly, placing a hand on Cliff's shoulder.

    "We cannot just leave him here like this," Reyna protested, gesturing towards Derek's body. "It is not right."

  "I agree that it is improper but we cannot allow Moonshadow to grow his lead on us simply because we are standing around here doing the right thing," Cliff said softly. Matt knew in his heart that the soldiers were correct but it felt so wrong, so...familiar. The memories washed over him like a river; the way he had left his own family unburied as he had run from Clearfield, leaving their bodies lying in their destroyed fields and the wreckage of their home.

  That was wholly different, he told himself. Vincent had been there to make certain that they were buried properly, he did not just leave them alone the way they were considering doing to Derek. It felt wrong to leave the man exposed for the scavengers. He had proven his bravery by his willingness to fire the first shot at such a dangerous assassin, ignoring the fact that it would expose his position to the enemy before they could be distracted by the rest of his party.

"We are not far from the northern edge of the woods," Anthony began slowly. "We need to get our horses up and around from where we left them. If two of us can collect our horses and drive them north, it would give us a moment to bury Derek, or at least cover him, without wasting any time. Is that agreeable to you all?"

"I did not see any steeds waiting for them," Cliff returned to the discussion. "If our mounts can be retrieved swiftly we have an opportunity to catch Moonshadow within a day."

   "One of my arrows struck him in the right leg," Clay said seriously, drawing muted relief from the group, "If they are traveling on foot he will not go far before he will be forced to attend to the wound." Matt turned to the man with mild surprise; the short, goateed man had not addressed the entirety of the group even once since they began their journey. Now that he thought of it, the soldier had not spent much time speaking with the other soldier's either, during their limited down time while they set up camp he always split away by himself to cook everyone's meals in silence. Cliff had introduced Clay's service record as spending his life exploring the swamps and forests of Verden; Matt doubted heavily that men employed in that line of work were used to traveling with a group of this size. Likely he had spent the majority of his adult life journeying alone.