Free Bonemender's Oath by Holly Bennett Page A

aloud. “I just saved your arse.”

CHAPTER TEN
    T HE Greffaire strike team sent into Verdeau had been given clear, if demanding, orders: Avoid discovery; if possible without detection, examine the battlefield and the last Greffaire camp for clues as to what had transpired; and, most important, capture a Verdeau soldier or two for interrogation. The ten men traveled the Skyway Pass until they neared the foothills. Then they left the trail and picked their way slowly through the wild country, circling east and then south toward the mouth of the pass, hoping to escape the notice of any sentry forces posted along the main route.
    The ten men were among the toughest-minded, most seasoned, military professionals remaining in Greffier. Not one of them believed in spook soldiers or any other gutless attempt at an excuse for the Greffaire defeat. Even so, their first shadowed sight of the creature they inadvertently trapped in a blind gully had stunned them. Manlike but no man, hugely powerful, it burst roaring at them from the dark jumble of rock like a nightmare spun from the fevered accounts of the defeated Greffaire soldiers.
    Later they were ashamed and never spoke of the wild, clamoring fear that gripped them in that moment—the harrowing visions of ambush and death at the hands of a hideous army. But four spears flew at the creature before they fled, and it did not pursue them.
    When they had regrouped and realized there was no “army” but only a solitary foe, some of the men wanted to go back and finish it off. But their captain forbade it.
    “This ain’t a huntin’ expedition,” he said curtly. “We’re to bring back soldiers, not trophies. Get movin’.”
    D ERKH LAID OUT his remaining food: two wedges of old bread, hard now as biscuit, and a handful of dried apple slices. He didn’t need to count the apple slices to know his chances of making it over the mountain were slim.
    He had done the best he could with provisions, but opportunities had been few, and he had greatly underestimated the length of the journey. The map he had studied back in Verdeau had shown but a short gap between the Skyway and Otter Lake, which Gabrielle had pointed out as close to the Stonewater settlement. In the open plains of Greffier it would have been less than two days’ march. He had had no idea how slow his progress would be through such dense wilderness.
    He guessed he was close to the pass by now. With the trees thinned out and the sun visible, he was confident again of his direction. But neither of his options looked good. He could venture out of the hills into the rural lands on either side of the Skyway Road, and try to beg or steal some food—if he could get there without being challenged by the sentry guard and if he didn’t end up arrested for theft or vagrancy. Or he could head over the mountains with an empty pack and hope to make it home before collapsing from hunger. A man can live a long time without food, his father had told him—many days if he has water. But could he make such a strenuous climb? Already his head ached and buzzed with fatigue and short rations. And if he came under attack...Heheard again in his mind the eerie cries that had made his guts do a slow roll just a few hours ago and shivered.
    Col’s voice seemed to ring in his mind:
What mewling talk is this? You’re a Greffaire soldier, man! You’ll do what you have to do, or you’re no son of mine!
    Derkh broke a chunk off one of the pieces of bread and packed away the rest. Then he shouldered his gear and plodded on, gnawing on the dry crust as he walked. His father was right. If he was going back to Greffier, he’d better start acting the part.
    The sun was dipping low, and he was starting to watch for a sheltered place to make camp, when he heard a sound that froze him in his tracks. Voices. He must have stumbled into a sentry camp or scouting party. Scrambling for cover, Derkh flung himself over a lip of land that dipped into a shallow