Fortune Favors the Cruel - Kel Carpenter Page 0,48
the group lifted a horn to his lips and blew. A great echoing battle call sounded, and men fell into formation, the first circle around them going to their knees and extending their halberds as one. The next circle of men stepped up behind them, and the third row stood slightly behind, waiting for their command.
The man with the horn lowered it from his lips, letting the sound ring in the empty air. His eyes shone a pale green through the wolf’s skull adorning his head. When the note stretched out so long it blended in with the silence of the woods, he spoke.
“Eum chaka riek faerr mar,” he called out.
“Um…” Quinn glanced back over her shoulder at Draeven. “What did he say?”
Quinn groaned. “Please tell me someone does, because wolf boy over there looks like he might be hungry, and I am not excited about being someone’s dinner.” As soon as she said it, a second voice called out. One from beyond the clearing, at the edge of the trees. The mountain men turned as one, toward the voice Quinn knew.
“Hayr chaka vurd kaeverkn!”
They parted before him, each ring of men peeling back to make a gap just large enough for him to come forward and stand before the man in the wolf pelt. Phrases were exchanged back and forth between the two while Quinn and the others stood by, tensely waiting for a verdict. Lorraine had risen and was tucked halfway behind Dominicus as the other man held his sword at the ready, waiting for the moment things would turn sour. If they turned sour.
Lazarus spoke, relaying information about their group. A short pause followed and then the man spoke in a deep baritone. “Come with us.”
The men kneeling rose to their feet and lifted their weapons, stepping back to allow Lorraine, Dominicus, and Draeven to pack. Quinn lifted an eyebrow at Lazarus, not lowering her knife even as the others stowed their own.
“Put it away,” he murmured to her, warm fingers wrapping around her wrist to force her to lower the blade. Her arm stayed locked, the metal still pointed at the men with the halberds, even if they had stopped pointing them her way.
“And get stabbed in the back?” she asked, incredulity leaking into her voice. “No, thank you.”
“Quinn—” Lazarus started with a growl. His midnight eyes flashed with something heated that she couldn’t place before the man in the wolf pelt stepped forward.
“Little she-wolf,” he interrupted. Quinn tilted her chin and turned her crystalline eyes on him, letting him see the darkness that she often tried to hide. His pale green eyes held more warmth than she expected for someone who seemed ready to kill them only moments ago. “You protect pack fiercely,” he said, nodding with respect and approval before turning and speaking to the other Cisean warriors.
Quinn looked pointedly at Lazarus and a muscle in his jaw twitched. She smirked to herself, lowering her knife to her side, but not stowing it. “What happened to you behaving?” Lazarus asked, just as Draeven walked up.
“They have halberds and wear the skulls from beasts larger than I. Going anywhere with them unarmed is asking to be murdered, and I’d deserve it were I naïve enough to do it,” Quinn replied, turning on her heel to take a headcount of the possible assailants.
Lazarus may be willing to lower his weapon, but I won’t be swayed so easily. Behind her, she heard them whispering. Draeven’s voice raised slightly as he said, “She’s going to get us all killed.”
Quinn drifted farther, ignoring them as she came to a stop beside Bastian. The horse snarled and moved closer to the wild men just to be away from her. Quinn wrapped her free hand in his reins and pulled him up short, the early start and adrenaline running through her system shortening her already explosive temper.
She heard Lazarus’ reply as she forced his steed to submit to her. “Possibly.”
She frowned to herself while hooking the toe of her boot in the stirrup. If the last two weeks had taught her anything, it was how to mount a horse, and she did. Knife in one hand and reins in the other, she grabbed the lip of the saddle and hoisted herself up and onto the great beast. It reared back once, and Quinn dug her heel in its side, clicking her tongue between her teeth.