Dragonvein - Brian D. Anderson Page 0,66

and distributed it to the others. They stopped for a few minutes to eat but did not sit, instead standing beside their mounts ready to flee should the need arise.

With his feet aching quite badly from navigating the bumpy ground, Ethan was grateful when they were all finally able to get back in the saddle. He wondered how Jonas had coped with the difficult walk. Kat had checked the scrapes and bruises from his fall while they ate. On the surface at least, he seemed to be none the worse for wear.

By nightfall the woods were thinning and the trail widening.

“There’s a stream up ahead,” Markus said, breaking the long silence. “We can at least clean up a bit and wash the blood away.”

Ethan looked down at his clothes and hands, only then noticing how badly they were spattered with blood. The thought sickened him. Fear had kept the memory of the fight at bay, but now a vision of what he had done came flooding back.

Markus instructed them to tie their horses to a fallen tree away from the trail and led them to the stream. Ethan did his best to clean his shirt and trousers, but eventually gave up and put on fresh clothing. The water was icy cold and clear as crystal. Once washed and changed, he took a long soothing drink before heading back to the horses.

“We should forgo a fire,” Jonas said, after they had all returned.

Markus nodded. “And you should try to sleep. We’re still a long way from the mountains. If we’re lucky we’ll stay ahead of the Imperials. But we’ll need to move quickly.”

They unpacked some blankets and a small meal of dried figs and jerky.

“How did they find us so quickly?” asked Ethan through a mouthful of jerky.

“That’s what bothers me,” Markus replied. “The only way is if they have a sending rod.” He could see the confusion on Ethan’s face. “It’s like a telephone in a way. It’s a rod about a foot long. People can use them to talk over great distances. They’re very rare, and only high ranking officers…or a Rakasa would be in possession of one.”

“Those Rakasa demons still exist?” said Jonas. “I thought they were all destroyed.”

Markus tightened the blanket around his shoulders. “I wish.”

“So what do you know about them?” asked Ethan.

“No one knows very much for certain,” Markus replied. “Shinzan uses them as his personal guard and assassins. Some say they’re cursed elves, others say that they’re devils summoned from the fiery depths. The only sure thing is that, if you do ever meet one that’s after you, death is guaranteed.”

“The council tried to eradicate them just after Shinzan came to power,” added Jonas. “He had somehow gained control over their minds and was using them to kill the lesser mages. I thought the council succeeded in wiping them out. But I guess I was wrong.”

“I’ve seen one,” Kat interjected. “When I was a little girl we had one come to see my father.”

Markus chuckled. “And what business would the father of a thief have with the Rakasa?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, ignoring the insult. “But I definitely saw one.”

“What did it look like?” asked Ethan.

“I couldn’t see its face. It was all cloaked in black. But its hands were white as snow, and it had a voice as hollow as the wind. I didn’t know what it was at the time, but I knew to be very afraid of it.”

“Anyone would have that description,” scoffed Markus. “But whether or not you really saw one doesn’t matter. If we see one, it’s all over. Now enough talk. We need to get some sleep.”

Kat huffed at Markus and turned her back. “I’m not lying,” she whispered.

Ethan rested his hand on her shoulder. “I believe you.”

She smiled up at him. “I really am a princess you know. That’s why the Rakasa came to my house. One day I’ll prove it.”

Ethan returned her smile. “Like I said, I believe you.”

Kat’s smile slowly vanished. “No you don’t. No one does.”

Chapter Twelve

A SHARP PAIN IN Ethan’s ribcage shocked him awake. The clatter of steel and the sound of gruff voices surrounded him even before his eyes were fully open.

He tried to stand, but the blunt toe of a boot thudded into his stomach, forcing the breath from his lungs. Gasping for air, he sank back down.

His sword was missing from its place beside his blanket, but the dagger was still in his belt. Apart from the soldier standing over

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