True Warriors Sing by Rowan Erlking (classic book list .TXT) 📕

He shook his head then took the reigns of the horse to lead it out of the stall. “No.”

LjuBa followed. They walked out of the barn, but LjuBa was still wondering what that squire was implying that would make her so mad. But then she realized that it was possible they could have spent the night at the tower outpost, free of charge. Apparently it had not occurred to either of them until that moment.

They reached the road. LjuBa mounted first, reaching out for Ljev who glanced at the locals who were watching them. But then LjuBa remembered herself and put both of her hands onto her reins. Of course he would remember propriety. At least he had manners.

So he walked and she rode. They sang the song for direction, and found north, Jodis pulling them towards his kingdom. Every one of the locals watched as they rode out of town.

No singing around them, the empty world with all those watching eyes as the morning sun rose suddenly felt very sinister. In fact, LjuBa noticed a rather quiet yet sinister undertone on the air she had not noticed before. Both of them felt prickles go up their spines as they traveled at a comfortable walk. Ljev set his hand on the hilt of his sword, quickening his pace. LjuBa urged the horse at a trot, though not too rushed. Both of them noticed out of the corners of their eyes men, armed with weapons, emerge from the buildings they passed. Some started to follow.

“Last night, you said they didn’t look happy to see us,” LjuBa murmured to him. “Is this what you meant?”

Ljev started to jog. “Not exactly, Miss. This is worse.”

LjuBa peered down from her saddle. “Worse, how?”

Gazing furtively at her, he replied, “I thought this land was in good regulation. They regularly pay their tributes to the king.”

“Yes?” She noticed someone with a crossbow at their right, knocking arrow into the spot.

Ljev said, “If that really were so, then they wouldn’t be coming out like they want to kill us.”

It was almost like he called them out with that last phrase. Seven men suddenly charged after them, swords high. Five pulled out bows, releasing their arrows. Ljev bolted, LjuBa stirred up their horse.

But as the arrows neared the pair, they shied off, barely scraping the KiTias’ skin with slashes. Ljev’s shoulder started to bleed along one side.

An arrow wedged in the corner of the leather saddle. The horse reared.

“Ljev!” LjuBa reached out to him. Forget propriety. 

The squire clasped it, leaping onto the back of the animal. He yanked out the arrow from the saddle, tossing it back even as another volley flew. But they were off, galloping ahead.

Then they heard riders. 

“Why would those who are already paying tribute attack us?” LjuBa shouted back as she hunched over the neck of her animal, urging it faster.

Ljev clasped her waist to hold on, calling forward. “I don’t know!”

The pounding of hooves charged after them as they raced out of the town into the skirts toward the high hill where the tower stood, war cries echoing on the air like crows. LjuBa fixed her eyes on their destination, determined to get there. Her father’s horse was more than able to carry their weight up the hill, built for war unlike the farm horses that were now lagging behind. Their riders were swearing out death after them, each one still shooting to kill. Luckily, none hit the horse, though another grazed off Ljev’s back.

LjuBa felt her heart twinge, and she gasped. She grabbed her chest, leaning fully against her horse’s neck.

Immediately Ljev seized around her for the reins, clutching her with his other arm to make sure she would not fall. He urged the animal on, calling out. “Haw!”

They crested the hill.

On top, amid the flowing grasses that overran the dirt path, the base of the red stone tower looked attainable. And though riders charged after them, they both rode to the giant brass nailed door. Ljev hopped off, easing LjuBa out of the saddle with a glance back at the rushing attackers. The squire hurried them both to the door, pulling on the great brass ring with all his weight.

The hinges creaked, caked in moss and green with crusty white edges. With the gap just wide enough, Ljev pushed LjuBa in, following right after. Then, rushing up like waves, the riders nearly came crashing against the door with a boom. It slammed shut behind the two KiTai.

Ljev staggered back from it.

LjuBa looked up, her eyes wide. “No! Father’s horse is still out there!”

“I…I’m sorry.” Ljev backed up more, listening to the whinnying cries of their horse among the cacophony of neighs, hoof beats and clanging of weapons that hardly even grazed the wood of the door. He kept waiting for them to ram it in, blinking at the wood then the writing inlaid in the stone. Their horse let out a distressed whinny, followed by the loud clatter of hooves, which after a while grew distant.

“Our horse,” LjuBa murmured, though she did not move from the step she was sitting on.

Ljev turned, lifting his eyes up at the ceiling and then open hall that had a fine layer of dust over nearly everything. The hearth fire was out. He then looked up the stairs that curved along the wall in broad stone steps. All of the oil lamps were out, but oil was still in most of them. He walked to one, peering at the wick even as the noise outside continued, this time turning into an array of curses in local dialect that he and LjuBa could conveniently ignore. The wick had burned down to the nub. Looking down to LjuBa, Ljev then crouched next to her. “Are you feeling all right?”

She turned her eyes toward him in a glare. “All right? Those barbarians are out there, and our horse is gone! How is anything all right?”

Blinking at her, Ljev stepped back. “I…I mean your heart.”

Disgusted that he still pitied her, LjuBa stood up, clenching her fists. “My heart is fine! But what I don’t get is how nobody in this tower has come out to help us! How could they let this happen?”

Ljev frowned. He peered up the stairs again. “Maybe we’d better go up and ask them.”

She stomped her foot, marching up with a hard nod. “Darn straight! They have a lot to answer for!”

LjuBa led the way, Ljev keeping behind with his eyes on her back as if to steady her while they climbed up and up. When they reached the second level LjuBa jerked open the door, marching in with her anger giving her energy. Like the main floor, there was dust everywhere. The spacious meeting hall had all its trappings, the armor, the weapons, and the long table with chairs around it, all decked out with a feast. LjuBa marched over to that, reaching to the person she spotted sitting in the high back chair to berate him for their lackadaisical watch over that provenance. Her eyes fixed on his scraggly hair, too ill kempt for a warrior.

“You miscreant!” But her eyes then saw his face and she staggered back, her heart stabbing with pain.

“What?” Ljev ran over, holding her up at her shoulders. Peering over her shoulder, his eyes fixed on the warrior, and he drew in a breath.

Shriveled, dried up, rotted out, strangely petrified there, the thin skeleton in KiTai warrior armor stared back with hollow eyes.

“Are they all dead?” LjuBa murmured after Ljev had taken her to a seat to regain her strength.

“I haven’t checked the entire tower yet, but everyone in this room is,” he said.

“And those barbarians will be breaking into the tower soon,” she murmured.

Ljev sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t think they can.”

Peering at him, LjuBa frowned. “What do you mean?”

He pulled back from her, yet met her gaze. “Look at these warriors here. They just…I don’t know…died. As if spontaneous.”

“Black magic,” LjuBa murmured, feeling the dread deep in her stomach. Acid was rising in her throat. She wished she could vomit.

“I don’t think so,” Ljev replied, gazing at them. “I think—”

“You don’t think so?” LjuBa rose onto her feet. “What else could it be?”

“Poison.” Ljev picked up a bottle from off the table. It was wine, now gone to the point of vinegar. The goblets at the table were all varying degrees of full, most clearly filled and refilled looking at the level of wine left in the bottle.

LjuBa peered at it also, her eyes fixed on the bones of the picked clean roasted pig, clearly long eaten by maggots. There were holes in and out of the bread and puddings on the table, and dead flies scattered over the dining area. “But why?”

Wandering to the window, Ljev peered out the thin arrow-shooting slit at the local men outside. They were now setting up camp, clearly hoping to wait him and LjuBa out. He murmured, “They don’t want us here.”

Huffing, LjuBa snapped, “Why?”

Shrugging, Ljev answered, “I don’t know. Lots of reasons, I guess. Why do the outlying provenances always have uprisings? There has to be a reason.”

“They’re barbarians,” LjuBa said, giving him a tired look. Indeed, the man always seemed to ignore this fact. “It is in their nature.”

He met her look, shrugging. “Yes, but have you ever wondered why we don’t just leave them alone? You know, let them govern themselves.”

Dumbfounded, she just stared at him. “They’re barbarians! They can’t govern themselves!”

Ljev let out a long exhale, one that LjuBa suspected was more like he was thinking she was the one being thickheaded. He pulled out a chair from the table and wiped off a layer of dust before sitting down on it. Then he looked up at her, clasping his hands together. “MiKial’s daughter, listen to me. I’ve been at court and seen those people who have come from foreign lands and distant provenances to visit the king. I’ve stood in the back where they wait their turns to speak their piece, and I’m telling you what I’ve heard them say.” He paused, waiting to make sure she was listening. “They don’t like us in their land.”

She rolled her eyes, folding her arms across herself. Like a squire had the right to tell her what was and what wasn’t so.

“The Hann we trade with are trying their hardest to keep us from trading outside of KiTai beyond them,” he said, his face frowning with a look that was dark. No cowardice there, but it wasn’t a posture of a warrior either. It annoyed her. “They lie to the king all the time. They’re the ones that say that Westhaven is full of demons.”

“And why do they do that?” LjuBa asked with a huff.

Looking her straight in the eye, Ljev replied, “I overheard one muttering under his breath that if we started to trade with that country their trade would be cut into half.”

She blinked at him, lifting her chin. That explained why the king wanted to take Westhaven back into KiTai control. The Hann traded worldwide. If half their trade came from Westhaven, then the western lands had something KiTai needed to bolster up its floundering economy. A land