Free Bastial Frenzy (The Rhythm of Rivalry: Book 4) by B.T. Narro Page B

to walk to the dining hall with him.
    He was shocked when he saw her at the kitchen table. She was crying, cradling a near empty glass of sakal.
    “What’s the matter?” he asked.
    Her words were slurred. “I should uff gone with them. How can I shtay here while they fight fer us?”
    “How’d you get this drunk so fast?” He put his hand on her back. “You shouldn’t ever drink alone, especially when you’re sad.” He took away the glass.
    “Don’t!” She reached for it. “Don’t get rid uff it. You drink with me.” She jabbed a finger at him.
    “I don’t feel like it, and I’m hungry.”
    “Wer useless. But wer not…actually useless . Wer just making ourselves useless. Do you undershtand?”
    “I think so. But Effie, we’re not making ourselves useless. Who knows, the Krepps could attack the Academy.”
    Utter confusion creased her brow. “What?”
    “Then we wouldn’t be useless.”
    She still didn’t comprehend.
    “Someone needs to stay in case they come.”
    She patted his cheek a little too forcefully. “Yur trying to make me fill better.” Her hand dropped to the table with a thud. “But I don’t.”
    “You need some food. Come on. You’ll feel better after you eat.”
    “Bastial hell, yes. Food.”
    “Battle training resumes tomorrow.” He helped her up from her seat. “There will be plenty to do.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “I am.”
    She smiled and kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry. I’m glad yer…you are here. At least I’m not completely alone.”

 
     
    Chapter 7:
    CLEVE
     
    It was their fourth day riding, and they’d spent most of it searching for the men who were supposed to be ten miles west of the Krepp encampment. Cleve’s frustrations had gone on long enough to transform into worries.
    “Have you sensed anyone’s presence with psyche?”
    “None so far,” Rek answered.
    “Could they have been killed?” Cleve asked.
    “They probably moved. Let’s check farther north.”
    Cleve looked to the west, where the sun was quickly approaching the horizon. “If we don’t find them in an hour, it’s best we get as far from the Krepp encampment as we can before we sleep.”
    It made him uncomfortable every time he peered to the east and saw the long stretch of huts. Tens of thousands of Krepps inhabited the land, the majority of his enemies all right there, surrounded by a low wall. Knowing he was only going to get closer in an attempt to shoot one of the Slugari leaders, he couldn’t look away.
    Then he noticed something. “Wait.” He stopped his horse and pointed. “Those buildings are moving.”
    Rek peered out, cupping a hand over his eyes. “Those can’t be buildings.”
    “Then what?” They looked like black towers rolling about the encampment.
    Rek’s mouth opened, but only a whisper could be heard. “Could it be?”
    “What do you think they are?”
    “I don’t want to say.” He tore his eyes away. “Come, we need to find these men soon. Otherwise we’ll prepare a camp for nightfall. In either case, let’s hope no Krepps cross paths with us.”
    Rek’s horse broke into a gallop. Cleve commanded Nulya to follow.
    It wasn’t long before a whistle caught their attention. Two men stood atop a hill, the sun glowing behind them. Rek and Cleve dismounted at the base of the hill and walked their mounts up.
    “What in the Bastial stars is this?” one man exclaimed with a wide grin. “You’re back and with a horse?” He was talking to Rek, it seemed.
    “What do you mean I’m back?” the Elf asked.
    “Your common tongue has gotten much better!” the other said. “And they cleaned you all up and gave you a Kyrro tunic, I see.”
    Cleve was perplexed. Rek didn’t seem to know what the men were talking about either.
    “And who did you bring with you, Vithos?” one asked.
    Vithos?
    Rek gasped. “That’s the name of my brother. You must be mistaking me for him. When was he here?”
    The two men shared a look of confusion.
    “Your brother?