Free Treva's Children by David L Burkhead Page B

opened her mouth to speak again when a low growl drew her attention.
    She looked.  The dogs had risen, their heads low to the ground as they faced out the opening in the brush wall.  From his place in the circle, a place that put him close to the dogs, Shago hissed a low hiss that was almost a whistle.  The dogs' growls ceased, but they remained in their guarded posture.
    From outside the camp a pattern of low whistles sounded.  Shago grinned and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.  The dogs subsided.  Talisa rose and turned to face the opening in the wall.
    Embron stepped out of the darkness, a deer carcass draped over his shoulders.  He turned sideways to fit through the opening.  He slung the carcass to the ground, its open body cavity gaping redly at them.
    "Da!" Marek jumped up and ran to his father.  Embron swept the boy up in his arms, heedless of the blood that stained his sleeves.
    Talisa smiled. "I am glad to see you, Huntsman.  When you did not return, I worried."
    He grinned. "The storm covered our track well enough.  I laid down a false trail.  That should confuse them for a time." He shrugged. "Eventually, they'll spread out, maybe find us again.  But I think we can rest a while." He grinned. "And I thought we could use some meat."
    "My husband's ever loyal huntsman." Talisa smiled. "Thank you."
    Before Talisa could move, others grabbed the carcass and hauled it to the side of the fire where they began the task of skinning and butchering it.
    After eating, Talisa wrapped herself in her cloak and curled up on the ground to sleep.  Just before awareness fled, she heard Embron giving orders to set watches. My husband's ever loyal huntsman, she thought.  My ever loyal huntsman.

    Morning brought quiet. Talisa opened her eyes.  Aside from the popping of the fire and the occasional rustle as someone move in his sleep, no sound broke the air.  She rolled to her feet and stood.
    The dark did not seem so deep as when they had taken shelter in the copse.  Embron squatted by the opening to their rude shelter, one hand draped over the head of one of the dogs, idly scratching behind its ear.  The dog’s tail thumped rhythmically against the ground.
    “Embron,” Talisa said softly.
    Embron stood.  The dog whined as Embron’s hand left its ear.  Embron clicked his tongue and the dog subsided, lowering its head to rest on its paws. “Milady.”
    “Is it morning?”
    “Soon, milady.  I sent Marek to the edge of the wood to watch.  If the Shahi come, he is to warn us.  If they do not come, he is to return when the sun crests the mountains.  It will not be long now.”
    “After that last few days,” Talisa said, “this almost seems pleasant.  Still, I think we had best move on, and soon.”
    Embron nodded. “The Schahi will come again.  Be certain of it.”
    Talisa sighed. “They chase and we run.  We lose them, and they find us.  They chase and we run again.  What happens when we cannot run any more.”
    “I do not know, Milady.  I suppose we die and the last of Aerioch dies with us.”
    “Do you really think it’s come to that?”
    Embron shrugged. “You heard Duchess Kaila, and that other knight.”
    Talisa remembered.  Duchess Kaila and her companion had ridden into their holding.  Bertan, Talisa’s son, had accompanied them, proud of his new status as squire.  They had warned her of the Schahi army massing on the western border, larger than any the world had ever seen, and of the slaughter that army brought in its wake.  Before going on to Norveth to seek a means of stopping the Schahi, Kaila had urged Talisa to flee, to bring her people to Norveth to there stand against the Schahi.
    Talisa shivered at the memory of the tale Duchess Kaila told.  The Schahi armies were not human.  Mages out of Chanakra summoned demons, lesser demons to be sure, but demons nonetheless, to inhabit the bodies of animals.  The possessed animals took on human form, possessed arms