The Cursewright's Vow

Chapter 27: A Queen of Wolves, Part 1

The white sands passed under the riders with a speed that amazed them both. Their mount was a sturdy beast, built for stamina rather than swiftness, but the coin they had spent on it suggested its owner believed the steed to possess a variety of talents, and that appeared to be the case. If not for the fact they still had a seaborne voyage ahead of them, Denisius would have purchased the horse outright and brought it back to Marhollow -- assuming, of course, he survived this ordeal. At the moment he had no assurance of that. It soothed him to make plans for the future, though, and so far Ammas hadn't made any effort to dissuade him. Come to that, he wasn't sure Ammas had much of a future himself.

Their destination stood just over the next ridge. Ammas gripped Denisius's shoulder, coughing raggedly. "Some rest before we go much further," he said hoarsely. Ammas's voice had been hoarse for days now, but it was stronger than the croaking whisper it had been when they left Gallowsport. 

Denisius nodded, smoothly dismounting, offering Ammas a hand. Laboriously Ammas clambered off the horse, sinking back against the bole of a young darceli tree and mopping the sweat from his face. Frowning, Denisius crouched at Ammas's side, offering a skin of wine. Ammas accepted it gratefully, drinking deep.

"You're not looking much better, Ammas. We should go back to Ismene, hole up in an inn for a few days." Denisius considered suggesting they find a Madrenite sister to treat him, but Ammas had already refused the idea repeatedly.

Ammas shook his head. "There is no time. Already twelve days since we left Gallowsport. Even if we make the best time on the return trip -- "

Their eyes met, or at least one of Ammas's eyes met Denisius's. Ammas's left eye was swaddled in a crude eyepatch. Shortly after he had awakened from the black sleep into which he had fallen in Gallowsport, that eye had turned dark red as a ripe cherry, so gruesome even Casimir had a hard time looking at it. His vision was unaffected but he suffered a deep ache when light shone into the eye. It had recovered somewhat during the journey across the Azure Sea, but he imagined it would be some time before it healed fully. 

"She's handled the change before. Will one more do so much harm?"

"One more without me there. Barthim and Casimir will have to cage her. I won't risk it. And there is Silenio to consider. I think it best he never feel the change at all." Ammas took the wineskin and drained it entirely, groaning and leaning back against the tree, his eyes closed as the fronds above his head swayed delicately in the night breeze.

Denisius sat cross-legged at Ammas's side, drawing his blade and idly whetting its edge. "I've never been here before," he remarked. "Heard how beautiful it was all my life. It's not so cold here yet."

"No," Ammas agreed. "Even the winters here are very mild."

Denisius smiled thinly. "A good place to die, then?"

Ammas laughed, then broke into shuddering coughs. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that. Though I suppose Barthim would approve."

"I wish he were here."

"So do I."

"Do you think Vos will recover?"

"He lost a terrible amount of blood. The Madrenites will do their best. They always do. But I just don't know. His leg -- he may never walk right again. At least he wasn't bitten."

Denisius nodded, staring glumly at the distant ridge. A gust of wind whipped across it, briefly raising a cloud of whitish dust. For a moment he caught a gleam of light on the other side of the ridge. "And what about you?" 

Ammas hadn't been able to walk for nearly two days after he'd awoken, and even now he needed to lean on a walking stick like a shepherd's crook. Riding his own horse had been unthinkable, and even riding pillion behind Denisius had been difficult.