Page 9 of The Oracle's Journey

One of the human bandits asked Emmelina to start over, “so the Capitan …” He nodded to Handsy-Elf. “… can hear the whole thing.” Not one of his companions seemed put out at having the tale restarted.

She regaled us with the wyvern incident, acting out as much of it as she could. Her impression of the beasts was dead on, though, down to the way they moved. The entire gathering was transfixed by her telling. So much that even Handsy-Elf forgot about hair pins occasionally. One of the men even let out a quiet “aww” when she described how lovely and sweet the hatchling had been. It earned him a look of disdain from one of his elven companions. Emmelina was an exceptional storyteller.

Then she got to my part of the story. Hearing the embellishment of my heroism was painful. Emmelina cast herself as a damsel in distress and made me sound like some fearless twat of a knight. She held a massive stick in place of the tiny dagger I waved in the wyvern’s face. Her expression was savage and fierce while mine had been pale and clammy, eyes squeezed shut. If I could have hidden my reddening face in my hands, I would have. The bandits’ sneaky glances my way were difficult to miss. Emmelina ended the tale with our daring escape, my apparent outrunning of the beast.

So, I was also the twat knight’s horse. I rolled my eyes and sighed.

“Is that really how it went?” one of the men asked me.

“Aside from some dramatic embellishment,” I said, prepared to set the record straight, “yes. It was intense, but the beast was more interested in protecting his family. I didn’t have to outrun the thing.”

“You got balls,” he said. The elves all looked at me, confused. “Not literally, you idiots,” the man said, with a laugh. “Lhoris would have noticed that, wouldn’t you?”

Handsy-Elf waved the comment away, not dignifying it with an answer. The gathered males all had a chuckle at our expense. Which is something I noticed many men do: pay a compliment as crudely as they can, and then negate it with some kind of insult.

“If I did have them, they’d be bigger than yours,” I said drily. They laughed harder, but now at the other man. I’d won the exchange with predictable body humor. Huzzah.

CHAPTER 6

Lhoris

The carriage had been thoroughly searched, even the benches inside taken apart, but there was no sign of treasure. No bolts of silk. No gemstones. Nothing. I realized that, even though we found a good amount of money, it wasn’t enough to keep these mushroom eaters from murdering my brother and me. And the prisoners. As much as I didn’t want to go to Dulanzo to handle a ransom, my crew wasn’t good for more than the smash and grab sort of work, but I loathed to think what Dulanzo would do with the sole half-elf. I had done as much as possible for her safety, but she’d wish for death in his hands. Perhaps I could hide her until we finished the ransom and then set her free? No, the crew would never support that.

Then I wished myself free of obligation to Dulanzo for about the millionth time that day.

The four women retired to the carriage, not even complaining that the benches were askew. They were probably exhausted after their arduous day, and the little princess looked as though she would fall asleep on her feet.

I had the crew nail the carriage doors shut, window shutters too, transforming it into a makeshift cell.

With that done, I found my brother and asked for an update on the crew. Lobikno had a gift for ferreting out sedition. He could sense malcontent and read it like a map—not by any special magical inclination, but because he had the instinct of a survivor. Lobikno covered us in shadow and silence as we stepped out of the camp and into the dark of the forest.

“They’re predictably angry about the dowry and dislike waiting for the ransom money,” he explained, “but the storytelling seemed to relieve some of the tension. We need to give them some kind of satisfaction soon though, or we will need to start killing them. And then we would need to start running.” Lobikno ran his fingers through his hair. “You should have given them the opportunity to whore before this job.”

“There wasn’t time,” I grumbled. There was never enough time. “We have another day before we could even get a message to Dulanzo,” I shook my head and peered at the carriage from our quiet spot in the woods. “Would we have that much time?”

Lobikno thought for a moment and said, “It’s possible. But even if we get close enough to send a message, the spiteful prick will still make us wait days before coming to meet us. We’d get more time if we let them have at the princess’s attendants.”

I scowled and glared at my brother. We both knew exactly what that would be like for those women. “I don’t understand how you can say that like it’s an option.”

“Our lives are at stake. That’s how,” he snapped. “Their lives are at stake, too. If they were smart, they’d barter with their bodies.”

“Your soul is a very cold place, isn’t it?” I asked. My words may have sounded harsh, but I wasn’t angry with Lobikno. My brother had layers upon layers of suffering wrapped around himself for protection, and I was aware of only a fraction of it. Some of that pain he’d earned on my behalf.

“I’ve survived.” Lobikno shrugged. “You need to kill that conscience of yours. It’s a luxury we can’t afford anymore.” Then he gave me a narrow-eyed look. “Don’t let that fucking halfie get under your skin, either. It won’t help us if they see you grooming her or … anything they might perceive as your keeping her to yourself.”

I nodded. Lobikno was right. During the girl’s storytelling, I’d lost track and found myself toying with the mercenary's long, dark hair, even after removing all the metal pins. The males had been sneaking looks her way. Some of them in admiration of her role in the story, some in resentment of how we'd been herding the women away from them. Then I remembered how I’d given her chills with my fingers on her thigh.

“Shit!” Lobikno shouted. “You really are going to get us killed!” He paused, clenching and unclenching his jaw, reining in his anger. “I keep forgetting how young you are.” He sighed and thumped me solidly in the sternum with a closed fist. “But you’re still old enough to know better. Letting them feed one kind of lust will help them temporarily forget the other kinds. Or at the very least have them believe you’re as starved as the rest of us.”

“Misery loves company,” I muttered darkly before walking away from him.

I made my way over to the carriage, my mind churning over Lobikno’s observations and advice. He’d been surviving in this life much longer than I had. Our people’s culture was wretched and isolating for males relegated to the warbands, though we had arguably more freedom than the city-bound males. We were just fodder kept close to the surface for whatever work the ruling council wanted done there. The female generals visited regularly enough to keep the males in fear of them, but we were largely left to Dulanzo’s care. Which is to say, living in fear and left starving for anything that didn’t appear to make us stronger or more fearsome—starving for all the things that made life worth living. Denied even something as simple as absently running one’s fingers through a woman’s hair. All for the sake of making us hungry, vicious attack dogs! I fought off sinking to that for a long time. Lately, it was starting to feel like a losing battle for my spirit.

The top of the carriage was still empty of trunks, so I thought it might be prudent to post myself there for the night. Not only to eavesdrop, but to keep the women safe from those starving idiots. I crept up and ascended the carriage in silence, as light on my feet as any elf. Once settled, I laid back and listened to their whispers.

“You say we need to keep our heads down,” the princess said. “But you’re not, are you?”

“No,” answered Ozanna. “I have a duty to hinder them, to stall for time. It’s possible the horses make it back to your father. Their riderless return could alert him that something went wrong. If I can slow them down or distract them long enough, we could be found. And at the very least, lady, I have to protect you physically.”

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