Pathfinder's Way(45)

"If only that were the case," Shea said softly.

"Are those skulls? Revenant skulls? Shane? Where are you going?"

Shea spun and took off, nearly running, as she headed back to the  villagers. Eamon, with one last look at the skulls, trailed behind her.

"Shane, stop. Stop, right now," Eamon ordered when he saw where she was heading.

Shea didn't listen, intent on her prey. She didn't know who it was yet, but she'd know him when she saw him.

Pushing past the Trateri still mounted, she paused to survey the crowd, barely noticing as Eamon stopped beside her.

"Shane, you cannot do this. Whatever this is. Tell me what's going on."

"In a minute," she said in a distracted tone of voice.

"What's going on?" a Trateri asked from behind them.

Shea tuned them out, not caring what was said. She'd found her target.  As she'd thought, she'd known him at a glance. He stood out from the  rest of the villagers. They were simple folk. Not him though. His hair  was bedraggled and untamed, but the clothes he wore were high quality,  if dirty. Most damning of all, he wore a necklace made of the same blue  flower as was threaded through the eye sockets of the skulls. It was a  pretty flower by itself and harmless if not for what it symbolized.

In nature, the flower's scent repelled most predators as it deadened the  sense of smell and lured its victim by causing hallucinations. So  naturally its likeness was adopted by a religious sect who vilified and  deified beasts, making them into both monsters that needed to be feared  and gods that could be appeased through worship and sacrifice.

Their presence was more common in the Lowlands than the Highlands.  Shea's guild would not deal with any village that hosted one of the  sect's priests. They fed on superstition and fear, building it until it  reached hysterical extremes and turning once decent people into a terror  maddened and crazed imitation of themselves.

"Where are they?" Shea snapped as she strode to the priest.

A village woman stepped in front of Shea, holding her hands up in  supplication. Thrusting the woman away from her, Shea continued,  ignoring the building undercurrent of fear and hostility, both from the  villagers and the Trateri behind her.

"Where. Are. They?"

The priest, to give him credit, did not retreat in the face of Shea's  onslaught. He held firm, looking at her from behind eyes such a dark  brown they almost appeared black. Or perhaps that was how Shea saw them  given what she knew of his practices.

Reaching him, she grabbed his robes and jerked him down towards her. His  struggle was laughably weak, barely even phasing her. Extreme fasts and  safe living had made him weak while she pushed her body to the limits  on a daily basis.

Later she would be stunned by her actions. Knowing that she could have  easily been injured or killed by the wary villagers surrounding her or  the Trateri who had not a clue what was happening, besides the fact that  their scout had suddenly turned crazy. Right now, none of that  mattered. Anger filled her near to bursting and cleared sane thoughts  from her mind. Right now, all that mattered was finding out how far  these people had gone in the pursuit of safety.

The priest maintained his silence, giving her nothing but a blank stare.  That stare said he wouldn't answer to the likes of her. No matter how  she pushed or prodded, he wasn't giving the information up.

Fanatics. God, she absolutely loathed them.

"Not gonna answer, huh?" She bared her teeth at him, much like the  revenants had days before. One by one her fingers loosened their grip,  letting go and then smoothing the robes down on his chest. "That's  alright."

She turned and walked away, only now noticing Fallon watching her from  his upright position on his mount. All of the Trateri watched her, some  with suspicion, others with curiosity.

"What's going on here?" Fallon asked. His expression made it clear if  she didn't have a damn good reason for her little outburst she would be  sharing the villager's punishment.

"My lord, if I may?" Eamon waited for permission to continue. Fallon  tilted his chin down. "The scout discovered the village is missing  somewhere near a third to half of its population. I believe he was  trying to determine where they went."

"You believe?" Fallon's face made it clear he didn't care for this turn of phrase.

"He didn't exactly share his plans."

Fallon's attention shifted to Shea. "Is this true, Scout? You were trying to determine where they've hidden the rest."

"Sort of."

Eamon cleared his throat loudly.

Shea tacked on a "my lord" to satisfy him.         

     



 

"Perhaps next time you should go through the proper chain of command," Caden said archly from beside Fallon.

"What is it you think you know?" Fallon asked, giving Shea the full intensity of his attention.

She grimaced, "It'd be easier to show you than try to explain. Not to mention more believable."

"Of course," one of the Trateri muttered.

Fallon held up his hand, signaling for silence. Then gestured for her to continue. "By all means."

She gave him a short nod before walking to her horse. Speaking over her  shoulder, she said, "I've learned a thing or two during my travels. The  first and probably the most important is that all of these backwards,  inbred, uneducated armpits of the Lowlands mainly fear one thing.  Beasts."

Shea riffled through the pack still attached to the back of her mount.  Finding a small vial buried at the bottom, she smiled briefly. That  should work quite nicely.

Turning back to the villagers, she composed herself, "Every aspect of  your lives are spent trying to minimize any contact. You tell your  children stories so they might inherit your fear and stay locked inside  these mindless prisons you've created until their dying day."

Could she do this? The repercussions of what came next could very well  wipe this place from existence. Her mind turned to the empty baby's bed.  Yes. Yes, she could do this and so much more.

Her eyes found the priest watching her with deep suspicion.

"Do you know what this is?" she asked, showing him the vial contained in  her hands. She didn't wait for him to answer, "It's Pyke's blood, and  do you know what Pyke's blood does?"

By the dawning realization and hint of fear beginning to show on his  face, she suspected he did. The villager's looked confused, as usual.

"Interesting properties this blood has. In easiest terms, you could call  it an attractant. All sorts of beasts think this stuff smells tasty.  You spill a little bit here and there, and it'll be the dinner bell  announcing a banquet by night fall. Now me and my friends are going to  ride out of here." There was a slight protest behind her that was cut  off almost as soon as it began. Fallon no doubt had motioned for  silence. "But before we go we're going to spread this stuff and several  other vials worth all around the perimeters of your village. Maybe  you'll survive. Probably not. But maybe."

She watched the villager's faces as she let that settle. Fear does funny  things to people. Some it turns brave, as it had Eamon and Buck when  they rescued their men from a shadow beetle's nest. Others, as was the  case with these villagers, turn into cowards willing to sacrifice  anything and everything for just one more minute, one more day, one more  week of living. They didn't care what they had to do or who they had to  hurt as long as they could keep breathing.

These people fell into the latter category. Figure out what they fear,  apply a little leverage and they would do whatever you asked.

It started slow. A little bit of talking, some people crying, another  shouting, ‘you can't do this', but soon there was arguing, threatening  and finally shoving.

Shea's smile was cold as she said, "Well, you've had your chance. If you  don't want to tell me the location of the altar, you can take your  chances with the beasts."

She uncorked the bottle.

"Wait." A woman stumbled from the crowd. "I'll show you where it is."

"Marnie, no," a man shouted.

"Thanks, but I don't trust one such as you. Just point me in the right direction."

"It's on top of that hill." She pointed to her left. "We wanted them to always be able to see us, you know?"

Yeah, Shea was sure they appreciated that.

"I'm going to give this to my friend over there. If I don't return or I  find out you lied, he's going to dump it and several others all over  your village."

"I'm telling the truth. I swear it."

Fat lot of stock Shea put into her words.

Shea walked over to Buck and handed him the bottle.

"You had this on you the whole time?" he asked.

"Yup."

"You could have used it to create a decoy with the revenants."

She snorted. "I don't think it would have worked very well. It's what I use to polish my tack."

His eyebrows rose. "You lied?"

She smirked at him. "Yup."

"You little sneak. We're going to have to start watching you closer.  Wait, does that mean you lied about the pisser fish in that pond we  bathed in?"