Zara the Wolf (13 page)

We stayed three days while Shelly and Eaton did whatever snooping
Wetzel had assigned them. Fully provisioned, we left the morning of the fourth
day for Jqedit, following the Areva River. Given no problems, it should have
been a three-day journey.

"What do you think, Zara?" Eaton asked as he
joined Shelly and me at the head of the caravan.

"I don't know anything about this part of the country.
The trail does run close to the Broken Mountains, and it's summertime, which is
the most likely time for an Indian raiding party, but Duke Dewan claimed he hadn't
heard of any incidents over the past two years. I'd say we need to assume there
will be an attack while at the same time hoping this isn't their year to
raid," I said.

"Their year to raid?"

"If they are anything like the Indians in the Black
Mountains, they live high in the mountains. So it's a two or three-week trek to
the lowlands. Consequently, they don't tend to conduct raids every year or even
every other year. Of course, if they haven't been active for two years or if
there’s more than one tribe there, who knows?"

"So you don't know." Eaton grinned.

"True. And I can't see this caravan as a good target.
We have too many guards and little to steal besides the mules. But Lady Shelly is
reason enough to be cautious."

Eaton nodded. That night, he posted four guards instead of
two, which I thought a good idea. Two years of inactivity was sufficient
reason—supplies could be running low and the young were always eager for
excitement. And although I didn't think the group was a likely target, warriors
were unpredictable.

Unlike the rest of the nobility, Shelly was satisfied with
cold meals at breakfast and noon, so we were off early each morning and didn't
stop except for short rests. The second night, Eaton and I worked out. I
thought it helped promote a feeling of a common purpose and eased his initial
resentment of me.

The next day we would reach Jqedit, and that night would be
the most likely time to attack a caravan this well-armed.
With bows
, the thought sent shivers through my body.

"What's wrong, Zara. Are you cold?" Shelly asked
as we sat around the fire eating.

"I need to speak to Lieutenant Eaton," I said
preparing to stand, but she stopped me with a hand.

"Lieutenant Eaton!" she shouted. When he looked
up, she waved him over. "Please join us."

That had him up and at a double-time run to her. "Yes,
Lady Shelly?"

"Sit. Zara has something on her mind which I'd like to
hear." She looked to me.

"Lieutenant, if Indians are going to attack a caravan
of this size, they will attack tonight. Your four-man guard would be sufficient
for almost anything, except arrows." Every Ojaza was an expert with the
bow and arrow, so I had to assume the same would be true of the Indians in
these mountains. "How will you protect yourself against arrows?" I
asked, since they didn't carry shields.

Eaton's face turned pale in the firelight, and he was silent
for a long time with his forehead wrinkled in thought. "We have crossbows,
but they need assembly, and we don't have shields."

"I think the odds of an attack are low, but the
potential danger is extremely high."

"What do you suggest?" Eaton asked hesitantly with
the resentment of me being in charge creeping into the question.

"You would know better than me, but if a raid happens,
anyone will be a target: those in sleeping rolls as well as those who are
standing. I'll scout the area and hope to give you advance notice if I see
anything. But if I do see something, I want you to be aware the attack will be
with bows and arrows." I said it this way hoping he'd be more likely to
act on a suggestion than an order. I hoped to keep the tension between us to a
minimum.

Nodding, he walked off in the direction of his detail.

"That was a good approach," Shelly said. "Do
you think an attack will happen?"

"I don't know. But if it's going to happen, it will be
tonight with arrows, and I don't think the soldiers are ready for that kind of
a fight."

"What about you wandering around at night on a
horse?" Shelly looked worried.

"That would be stupid. I'm going to try watching with
my mind. If that doesn't work, then I'll scout the area on foot."

"Be careful. I need a lot more mentoring," she
quipped, but the worry didn't leave her eyes.

"I will. Stay in the tent if an attack comes. That will
be safer than running around in the open." I picked up my bow and quiver
and headed north. I stopped on a small hill around a hundred paces away from
the camp. There, I folded into a sitting position and sought my place of
strength in the Ojaza camp. The night disappeared and everything around me
turned blue. Time didn't seem to exist, nor did I feel the need for sleep.

A lone Indian ghosted low to the ground using the bushes and
low areas for cover. He stopped and surveyed the camp for several minutes
before retracing his steps back over a small hill and out of sight. Now what, I
wondered. Would alerting the camp help? Or should I wait? I decided to move
closer to the position the Indian scout had used to approach the camp. I had
just gotten settled when they began coming over the hill following the same
path. There were fifteen and I joined at the end. As they got within fifty
paces of the camp, they began spreading out to encircle the area, and I could
wait no longer.

Screaming an Ojaza war cry, I shot one ten paces in front of
me and nocked another arrow. I shot the next man and began running.

It had the desired effect: the Indians all spun in my
direction and the camp began to come alive. The next Indian I encountered was
too slow getting his bow up and ready to fire. I sliced through his bow and neck
and kept going. The next man fired but missed as I jogged left when I thought
him about to release the arrow. I sliced through his stomach as he reached for
his sword. Several arrows were so close I could feel the feathers brush by. One
scraped my side, but the pain was but a thought; I was deep into a warrior's battle
trance as I sought the next warrior, a woman. She drew her sword and screamed a
blood-curling war cry as she charged, excitement glistening in her eyes. At the
last moment, her sword changed direction from my neck to my leg. I caught it in
my guards, and she and I collided—my knife buried to the hilt in her
chest. I turned her at the last moment as another warrior bore down on us, and
his sword struck her in the back.

Now I could hear fighting all around me. I pushed her away,
and just in time blocked a hard strike to my waist that slid along my blade and
into the guard. I twisted and his sword flew loose. As his eyes followed his
sword, I cut deep into his neck. When I looked around, the fighting had stopped
and Eaton was approaching with one of his men.

"You're crazy," Eaton said, looking around.
"But you know the Indians. I've been fighting you—a savage in charge—but
no more. You've been nothing but helpful. If I hadn't reluctantly listened to
you, we'd all be dead. I wasn't thinking arrows, and knowing their style of
fighting definitely saved lives."

"How did you do?" I asked.

"Four dead, five wounded; we killed nine." He
snorted. "Three more than you. Come, you need those wounds taken care
of."

Just then, Shelly came running toward us. "Thank God,
you're alive ... barely," she said after inspecting my wounds. "What
if you had been killed?" She half shouted, frustration evident in her
voice.

"What if you had been killed?" I asked. "That
was a raiding party. I don't understand why they would attack a well-armed
caravan with little of interest to them, but without some distraction, they
might have overwhelmed us."

"She's right, Lady Shelly. We had our hands full with
the nine that attacked the camp. Even being ready for an attack, without the
practice demonstration Zara gave us we wouldn't have survived those nine."
Eaton looked dejected and bone tired. Shelly dragged me to where the other
wounded sat and proceeded to patch me up.

"You have scars on your scars," Shelly said as she
stitched the gash in my side. "What lesson am I supposed to take from this
... disaster?" She looked like she wanted to scream. I couldn't blame her.
This was uncharacteristic of the Indians and just plain bad luck.

"Know your enemy. The soldiers prevailed because they
knew what to expect. The warriors failed because they assumed us a typical
caravan that would have been easy prey for fifteen warriors."

"Assumptions can be dangerous." She nodded slowly
as if burning the lesson into her memory.

* * *

The next day, the general mood was better than one would
expect—they had survived and that was a reason to celebrate. The going
was slow, and we limped into Jqedit late that night. Minister Garris saw to it
that the wounded were quickly moved to the barracks and a physician summoned while
Shelly and her party were settled in their rooms.

"Lady Shelly, Earl Arriaga would like to speak to you
if you are up to it. He would like to understand what happened in case he needs
to take any action," Garris said.

"Of course, if I can have an hour to freshen up,"
Shelly said.

"I'm sure that's acceptable. I'll have hot water
brought up immediately. Just ring when you are ready." He turned and
hustled out of the room. Shelly spent most of the hour inspecting my wounds and
cleaning me up, before washing and putting on a casual daytime outfit.

"Are you well enough to accompany me?" she asked.
"You look like you should be in bed. Never mind. I'm sure you think you're
all right. Let's get this over with." She pulled on the red velvet cord,
and a few minutes later Garris appeared and walked us down to the earl's study,
where two guards were on duty. Garris knocked, peeked in the partially opened
door, and then opened the door for us.

The earl stood as we entered. Although elderly, he walked
with the stride of a younger man.

"Lady Shelly, thankfully you appear unhurt, although your
companion seems to have been injured. Please sit. Would you like something to
eat or drink?" he asked, waving toward the chairs. Shelly handed him the
letters from Duke Wetzel before sitting. He read them quickly and handed them
back before returning to his chair.

"What happened? They tell me there were four dead and
five wounded. It's a miracle you weren't killed or wounded," Arriaga said,
visually upset.

"I agree, I was very fortunate," Shelly said,
looking at me. "An Indian raiding party attacked us, fifteen warriors. We
only survived because we were prepared for such an event."

"You must have a very smart Lieutenant ... caravan
leader." He smiled and took a drink from his crystal goblet.

"He and his men were very courageous." Tears
formed in her eyes. I agreed they had fought well against the warriors. The
Lieutenant had picked his team well. It spoke well for Shelly that she felt the
deaths of those men and didn't dismiss them as just doing what they were paid
to do.

"Stay as long as you wish, Lady Shelly. There is no
need to move on until your wounded are well and you feel ready to travel. When
you do, I'll send an escort with you back to Castra. That is the least I can
do."

"That's very kind of you, Earl Arriago. But I'll be
going on to Budia next."

"I thought you would be returning to Calle."

"I'll have to consult with my caravan leader, but I'd
like to continue on," she said, and I could almost sense her amusement.
Arriago thought she meant the Lieutenant, whereas I knew she meant me. Shortly
afterward, Shelly excused us as being exhausted, and we returned to the room.

"What do you want to do?" she asked when the door
closed. I had been considering our options. We couldn't travel light. Royalty
needed an entourage, and that required sufficient guards to preclude tempting
bandits. The Lieutenant and six soldiers—seven guards—might be
tempting for a band of thieves.

"Your caravan might look very tempting to an organized
group of raiders. I think you need to add a few more guards before moving on, especially
since we are moving closer to Siren country. I'd wager robbery is one of their main
sources of income."

"Mercenaries?"

"If you had someone you trusted to vouch for them,
maybe. What if you sent word to Ayus or Calle?" I said, thinking out loud.
Shelly was quiet as she prepared for bed.

"If Earl Varisko sent troops, they could be here in
seven or eight days." She went to the desk and began writing. When she
finished, she sealed it. "I'll give this to Eaton tomorrow morning and let
him decide the best way to get it to Ayus." She looked relieved as she
crawled into bed.

* * *

"I don't like the idea of sending anyone though the Pass
with the Indians active, but with a spare horse, a man could make Ayus in three
days. Going around the Broken Mountain would take an extra two days. I'd prefer
to send two men, but I only have one unwounded and fit to make the trip,"
Eaton said, frowning in thought.