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Eighteen

Both Brugo and Anaya kept a keen eye on the road behind them as they traveled. Harpyn remained oblivious to their pursuers, and instead, spent much of his time remarking on how boring the walk was and how he wasn’t sure what he’d been so worried about the night before.

He tried several more times to engage Brugo in conversation, but soon discovered that the big man was not much for words, and gave up sulkily.

Eventually, they were forced to stop for the evening. It had grown too dark, and their stomachs were protesting. Even Brugo seemed resigned to taking a break.

The three of them chose a place off the side of the road where they could keep an eye on things. It was a chill night, but Brugo refused a fire again. Harpyn began to argue, but this time, Anaya stepped in.

“I agree with Brugo. A fire this close to the road will be like a beacon to robbers.”

“Hmph, robbers? What have we got for them to take?” Harpyn argued.

“That only makes it more dangerous,” Brugo said mildly. “If they can’t find anything to take, they’ll kill you instead.”

This was enough to silence Harpyn’s protests, but it was not robbers that Anaya was concerned with. After Brugo confirmed her suspicions, she had also spotted the strange reflections from time to time behind them. She was convinced that they were being followed by at least three men, if not more, and she was growing worried.

On the one hand, she trusted Brugo to defend them if it came to that. He did have a mighty axe and he sure looked big enough to take on an army all by himself. However, if she did need to fight back, she had only a tiny knife and her divining rods at her disposal. She’d gotten the distinct feeling that Brugo was not a fan of magic, and she had yet to reveal her powers to either of the men.

Several times as they walked, she’d reached into her pouch and laid her hand on the rods. Since leaving Torg Uyen and the area of the tower, they had fallen mercifully silent. No more vibrating or sparks, to her relief. Even the mysterious harpies seemed content to remain in their supernatural home without pestering her.

Despite her reservations, she wished she could better conceal their camp, but out here on the open road, anything she could conjure up from the ground would only look out of place. They had few options other than remaining watchful.

“I’ll sit first watch,” Brugo said as they finished their dinner.

“No,” Anaya interrupted. “The mage stands first watch. Then you.”

Brugo gave her a concerned look, and Harpyn gave her a surprised one, but she insisted. Eventually, Harpyn found a comfortable place to keep an eye on the road and Anaya laid down a short distance from where Brugo was already lounging.

“By my estimation, it’ll be a few hours before they catch up to us. Harpyn can take first watch, and then you can relieve him. That way you’ll be ready when they get here,” she whispered.

Brugo remained still, his arms crossed behind his head and his eyes scanning the stars in the sky.

“You are wise beyond your years,” he remarked placidly.

“I traveled this road every year until this one. The Makara have a system for watches, not that many would-be robbers have the gall to attack a caravan of that size. All the same, you learn a thing or two when you grow up out here.”

There was a long pause before Brugo rolled onto his side and he studied her in the dim light. “You’re sure they’re still out there?”

She sighed. “I have to hope. The Makara survived the War of the Seven Citadels, and all those who have tried to destroy them since. If a greater enemy had triumphed, I’m sure the news would have spread far and wide by now.”

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After that, they both fell silent and soon only their quiet snores filled the area around the camp.

Sometime later, Anaya awoke. Her breath caught in her throat and she listened, certain that she’d heard footsteps nearby. Carefully, she lifted her head, moving only enough to see where the others were. Brugo was still deep asleep in front of her, and Harpyn…

Harpyn was leaned up against a stump, fast asleep as well.

Swallowing her fear, Anaya stretched a hand out toward Brugo. She needed to wake him, but she didn’t want to make any sudden movements. Whoever was out there might attack if they thought she was reaching for a weapon. By now, they might have the whole camp surrounded.

“Psst…” She tugged at Brugo’s apron as best she could.

But it was not Brugo who responded first. Instead, Mabel popped her head out of the apron pocket, twitching her nose and running in a tight circle.

“Maybe you can help me,” she whispered. “Can you wake the big man?”

The mouse squeaked and ran up Brugo’s chest and onto his chin. Anaya froze, watching with fascination as the thing crawled down along Brugo’s jawline and then nibbled at one of his big earlobes.

Brugo came awake with a roar, sitting up and glaring around in a rage. Mabel squealed with fright and ran straight for Anaya, huddling against her for protection.

“What is the meaning of this?” Brugo demanded, still sitting upright on the ground.

He had only just finished the question when a shout from behind him rang out and then three men in armor sprang into the midst of their camp, swords drawn.

Harpyn yelped and awoke at the same instant, leaping to his feet and sputtering some nonsense about keeping an eye out. When he spotted the attackers, his mouth went slack and he looked to Anaya for help, but she only glared at him around the attacker’s legs.

“What have we here?” One of the men asked, lowering his sword tip a bit. “A Sarizian, a Makara, and… who are you?” He looked quizzically at Harpyn.

Harpyn shrank back from the man’s sword, keeping his eye on the tip just in case. “I am Harpyn Freeble, one of the mage’s order,” he stammered. “You lot should be on your way. I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to anger me.”

Anaya gaped at him, nearly laughing at his weak attempt to sound powerful. Harpyn had none of the charisma or constitution of Geor, and had she been confronted by him alone inside the mage’s tower, she imagined she would have simply ignored him and continued looking about the strange vault. No, this would not do at all.

It appeared that the attackers felt the same. They were already closing in on poor Harpyn, leering at him and jabbing with their swords as he dodged left and right.

“Enough,” Brugo said sternly. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?”

One of the men turned on Brugo, giving him a nasty look.

“Don’t you worry, you big brute. We’ll get to you in a minute. We just want to have a little fun first.”

Brugo took a step toward the men, yanking his axe free from its loop at his belt. He smacked the flat of the blade against his hand once, making a sharp sound that gave all three men pause. They turned on him, sneering as they raised their weapons once more and prepared for a fight.

“Have it your way, Sarizian. We’ll deal with you first, and then we’ll find out if mage blood is different than yours and mine. And as for you…” the man pointed straight at Anaya. “I bet there’s a hefty bounty on you. Why, I thought all the Makara’d been rounded up. They must’ve missed one.”

Anaya recoiled as the man showed her a gap-toothed smile. Her mind swirled with questions at the man’s words, however, and she wished she could question him. But there was no time. Brugo was already lunging forward, axe hefted high overhead. Meanwhile, Harpyn had disappeared and then reappeared behind Brugo, much to the confusion of the two men who had him cornered previously.

“Help me, idiots!” The talker shouted as his companions whirled around just in time to see Brugo’s axe slicing through the air before he managed to block it with the pommel of his sword.

Frightened, Anaya pulled herself into a seated position and plunged her hands down into her pouch, grasping the handle of the good divining rod. Drawing upon its power, she focused all of her energy on the soil beneath her feet.

Brugo made another attack, but the smaller man quickly sidestepped and Brugo stumbled forward, bowling into the two others who scattered and then reformed into a line behind him. Now, Brugo was separated from his companions and he had taken a swipe from a sword during the exchange. Dark blood seeped from a wound in his bicep.

“Again?” The man taunted, readying his sword.

Brugo growled, eyeing the three men, waiting for one of them to make a move. Anaya used those precious moments to call upon her magic, raising snake-like vines from the dirt and winding them around the ankles of the three men loosely. Then, she waited for the perfect moment.

This time, when Brugo swung his axe in a broad arc, Anaya snapped the vines tight, holding the men fast to the ground exactly where they were. Their combined shouts of surprise were cut short as Brugo’s axe cut them down in one flat swing.

As their bodies slumped forward and fell to the dirt, spilling their blood in a dark pool, Brugo and Harpyn looked at Anaya in disbelief.