Free Escape From Zulaire by Veronica Scott Page B

girl and the baby?”
    The Shenti warrior nodded, moving to snatch Sadu off the ground. He tossed the toddler high into the air, catching him easily, much to Sadu’s chortling delight. Abukawal repeated the game one more time before handing the boy to Lysanda with a wide smile. Hooking a hand under her elbow, Abukawal assisted Lysanda, now holding her brother, from her mossy perch. Andi held her breath, but in some corner of Lysanda’s mind she’d apparently accepted Abukawal as part of their group—and therefore a friend. Her bruised face was relaxed, calm, a small smile on her lips. She held out her delicate hand to Abukawal and the big warrior clasped it carefully, as if he was afraid of crushing her birdlike bones.
    When the column moved out, Andi toiled up the ridge behind Rogers and Latvik. As the forest thinned, a stomach-churning combination of smells assaulted her nose—stale smoke with a sickly sweet odor overriding everything else. I hope I can deal with this. Lords give me strength. Nausea roiled Andi’s gut, and her head swam.
    “Close up, close up. Stay together.” Deverane’s impatient, harsh reminders kept coming.
    Reluctantly, she trudged the last few yards into the village, past the fringe of houses and small kitchen garden plots. Domesticated animals grazed in their pasture around a burnt tractor, displaying supreme indifference. Andi stopped for a second as she approached the first pitiful   cluster of bodies, then averted her eyes. I’m never going to get this out of my nightmares. Lady Tonkiln, the cook, these poor people—so much senseless suffering and death. And for what?
    Crossing to the opposite side of the dusty street, Andi covered her mouth and nose with her hand. Resolutely, she stared at the rutted track they were following to the heart of the settlement . I can’t look at anymore pitiful scenes, I just can’t. My heart aches for everyone who’s suffering and dying in this conflict.
    Andi walked into the large circular gathering place at the center of the village and stopped. A line of eight bodies lay crumpled against the wall of the largest building. Streaks of dried blood painted the clay bricks where the victims had been placed for this execution. The signs of violence and hate were all around her whether she wanted to see them or not.
    “Obati.” Startled by the guttural hatred in Abukawal’s voice, Andi turned to the warrior.
    “The Obati did this.” Abukawal pointed at the graffiti painted with blood in sprawling loops on the walls. He kept a tight grip on Lysanda’s hand. Oblivious, she remained in her own little world, could have been on a stroll through the gardens back at her home for all the emotion she displayed. The Shenti warrior stared around him, a muscle in his cheek twitching.  
    “Calm down.” Deverane was unemotional, his tone contrasting with the anger in Abukawal’s voice. “I doubt if the Obati have even had time to think since the massacre at the summer compound. And this appears to have happened at about the same time, judging by the condition of the corpses. Someone is setting up a nice little double play, to make it look as if the Shenti and the Obati in this region have been at each other’s throats. We know better.”
    “I saw Naranti Clan killing members of Lord Tonkiln’s family last night,” Andi said, walking closer to Abukawal, keeping her tone low and steady. “You claim you have proof about the Naranti involvement in all this.”
    Abukawal nodded, but the veins still throbbed in his thick neck. Face flushed, eyes narrowed, he clenched and unclenched his fist. “We must stop this before the whole planet erupts in flames and death.” Thick and clogged with emotion, his voice rumbled.
    “We’re working on it, but first we have to get ourselves safely back to the capital. That’s my focus here.” Deverane marched up to Abukawal, forcing the warrior to take a step back. The captain kept his eyes locked on the Shenti’s face,