Memory Hunted (8 page)

We haven’t escaped,
she
thought.
Not yet.
Even if they left the forest, Daeric would find them. She
knew that to her tail. She was finished with being hunted, with running. She was
going to have to kill again, just as she did Evelyn. None of it would end if she
didn’t. She was going to have to kill all of them. Maybe then she could finally
show her tail to the sun without worrying.

Balwar Tren squished through the muddy snow. Fatigue
gripped him after the long march. The men had grumbled about marching through the
other night, but the risk of their camp being attacked by heretics was too great.
At least now they had a solid palisade around them. It wasn’t a city wall, but it
was better than nothing. He wished his men had been assigned swords or spears instead
of halberds. Halberds were almost useless in this dense forest. The pole arms were
excellent for holding city streets and breaking up riots, but here, the weapons
tangled in brambles and caught on tree limbs.

Anything could lurk in these woods.

Balwar walked among the men as they filed into one of
the many empty barracks. On his right walked Lieutenant Dalton. On Balwar’s left
stalked Captain Tredere. The captain watched the soldiers file past with a grimace.
Balwar’s men outnumbered the threadbare garrison Tredere commanded by a wide margin.
The Captain’s red-and-gray-streaked hair stuck out from under a cap that covered
him to his ears. He wore a faded and stained brown shirt with matching trousers.
He looked far different from the polished commanders Balwar spoke with at the Vatican.
Despite the march, Dalton’s dirty uniform looked resplendent next to the captain.

"My reports are uncertain about how many heretics we
face. Do you have any numbers, Captain?" Balwar clenched his jaw to keep from yawning.
Dalton scratched his graying beard.

Tredere gazed at Balwar and then at Dalton. The captain’s
wind-burned forehead furrowed.

Balwar suppressed a sigh.
These military men are all
so touchy about rank,
Balwar thought.
But then I guess we are too.
He
produced a piece of paper from his robes. "I was ordered to act as an advisor. Command
of the men transfers to you, Captain."
Until otherwise, anyway.

The man frowned at the paper but didn’t bother to take
it. "Sending an Inquisitor shows the See’s opinion of my command."

Dalton yawned hard enough to crack his jaw.

The captain’s blue eyes locked on to the lieutenant.
Dalton shrugged and met the man’s gaze.

"You may retire," Tredere said.

Dalton sagged. "Thanks, sir. I feared much longer I’d
have to have someone carry me." He grinned. "My wife had to do that once. She needed
only one arm too."

Tredere raised an eyebrow.

Dalton straightened and snapped a salute. "Oh yes, sir.
Thank you, sir." He turned on a heel and marched away.

Tredere began to walk. "We will need to work on discipline."

Balwar tucked the vellum back into his robes. He forced
himself to ignore the open space.
Cities are much better than this.
His breath
misted in the cold air. A thin layer of trampled snow blanketed the space between
the wooden barracks. "The Vatican is concerned about who these heretics are." Balwar
tucked his hands into his robes. "There have been too many of late."

"Like Tahd Valador?" The captain paused and placed his
hand behind his back.

Balwar cleared his throat. "Yes, well. That was internal
business."

"Surprised I’ve heard of the Hunter’s corruption out
here? We may be on the edges of the world, but we are not completely cut off. We’ve
heard about Luther and the Protestant heretics." Tredere tilted his head. "And you
think our problem involves them."

"Maybe. We don’t—"

"It involves demons, Inquisitor Tren."

"Men are the worst demons now."

Tredere nodded. "So I know, but do you know the history
of this place?"

"All Inquisitors do. So you think this is the work of
demons and not Protestants." Balwar touched the steel comfort of the pistols strapped
to his forearms.

Tredere angled toward the hewn log barracks with a stone
foundation. "Are the Protestants cruel men? Are they as focused on rooting out heretics
as we are?"

"Some. Some are mistaken men who need to return to the
Mother Church." Balwar frowned. "How could heretics root themselves out?"

Tredere stroked his chin. "So they don’t hunt demons.
Foxes, wolves, and the like?"

Balwar shook his head. "Why do you ask?"

The captain paused before the building’s door. "We have
to know our enemy. Demon or man." The man scanned the trees beyond the low palisade
that circled the camp. "This is their ground. Not ours—whatever the Church says.
Forgive me. I don’t mean to blaspheme. I am just an old soldier. The boys also know
the stories, Inquisitor. The way these heretics would strike us makes them think
of those stories. Kill and disappear. The heretics always know where to hit us."

"So they use only small groups to attack. The forest
acts like a city." Balwar stroked his crucifix. "We need to look where they are
not. Do you have maps?"

Balwar followed the captain to his cabin. The building
sat a little away from the barracks. It was a smaller but a little less roughhewn
than the rest of the camp. The plumed soldiers flanking the entrance held their
halberds at the same angle. They resembled breathing statues.

The interior of the cabin, despite being sparse, was
disarrayed. Maps scattered across the table that dominated the room. Lanterns rested
among the jumble. A simple cot stood off to the side. A small stone hearth on the
opposite wall gave a little warmth. The captain crossed to the table, yanked a map
from the pile, and unrolled it.

"Show me where the scouts were attacked," Balwar said.

The captain muttered something and jabbed a finger into
the vellum. "Here."

"What areas did the scouts cover?" Balwar asked.

The captain emptied a leather bag on the map. Pebbles
scattered. The man arranged them around the location of the camp. Balwar studied
the map and stroked his chin. He noted how the captain fingered the dagger at his
waist.

Strange that I feel threatened by the man,
Balwar
thought. They were allies. No. He was just on edge. Cities were better than these
forests. Anything could happen out here.

Balwar tried to think of the map as a series of streets.
Streets that wound every which way. The pebbles seemed to form a pattern.

"Where were the most recent attacks?’

Tredere touched three pebbles. "Here, here, and here.
This is the most recent." The man’s hand returned to his dagger.

"No pattern." Balwar resisted the urge to flick one of
his pistols into his hand. Threat radiated from the captain. Balwar frowned.
Could
it be because the Vatican sent me?
Commanders were touchy about their authority.
Likely because I am an Inquisitor. I will have to watch him. There is always
more danger from allies than enemies.
He gazed at the pebbles scattering the
map. Instinct told Balwar something was wrong. Something was missing. Three areas
on the map were free of the variegated stones: the areas labeled as Belafonte, the
camp, and one other area.

"Send scouts here." Balwar tapped the third empty area.

Tredere’s eye twitched.

"Is there something wrong, Captain?"

"Nothing, Father," Tredere said. The muscle in his jaw
flexed. "I will send a small, fast group today."

"Send fifteen men. I want no surprises," Balwar said.

The captain’s hand gripped the dagger’s hilt. "Who is
the advisor, and who is the commander?" His voice iced the cabin’s air.

Balwar held the man’s gaze.
We are on the same side.
I have to remember that.
He forced himself to look away.
Guillermo always
said I was overly proud.
"You’re right. Forgive me. I grow angry with how heretics
slander the Church."

"I will send three. Your advice is appreciated, Inquisitor
Tren. Dismissed."

Balwar clenched his fists beneath his robes. He turned
and stalked from the cabin. His jaw clenched.
Foolish military men.
He stalked
across the cold field.

"You look like you want to chew rocks, Balwar. They are
softer than our rations, at least." Lieutenant Dalton joined Balwar. "Taste better
too. So you had a run-in with the captain, eh?"

"Disobeying his orders already?" Balwar had come to like
the man from Fairhaven in the short weeks they had traveled together.

Dalton yawned. "The fellows here are beaten down. They
don’t even want to stir up trouble."

"I think they’ve seen enough trouble. Besides, I am an
Inquisitor."

"Bah, you are not the bad sort. I thought all of you
were once, but you are not at all like that one Inquisitor I met. Besides, the boys
need to have a little fun or else they’ve won already." Dalton waved his hand at
the palisade.

"We are going to have to watch the captain and his men.
He threatened me."

Dalton whistled. "The man has a pair to do that to one
of your kind."

"I thought you just said I wasn’t the bad sort."

"Any idea why?"

"You know soldiers better than I do. Your kind is touchy."

"True there. Makes the pranks more fun, though." Dalton’s
expression turned serious. "I will watch the captain and his men. My guess is his
men will run at the first sign of trouble until I stiffen their backs. They remind
me of a friend of mine, the whole lot of them. I won’t have them endangering our
boys. Some of them owe me money." He gestured at Balwar’s crucifix. "Your papers
and rank let you take command. Why not do it?"

Balwar shook his head. "I’m not a soldier. I don’t know
the first thing about command."

"You think I do?"

"I just want to get this mission done so we can go home."

Dalton clapped him on the back. "Now that’s what I want
to hear. Have a ladylove waiting too, eh?"

"I’m a Jesuit. I took a vow of celibacy."

Dalton winked. "I’m sure she wants to see you too. You
don’t have to worry. I won’t tell anyone the Inquisitor is a regular man under that
robe. Seems to me God wanted every man to find a good woman. Just takes us time
to find her and to stop being boneheaded about it when we do." He smiled. "Let’s
be sure we get our boneheads home to our ladies."

Timothy slumped on an oak, wishing his legs would
stop cramping. For three days they’d trudged through the forest, stopping for
rest only when legs refused to work. Kit had insisted they keep moving. She had
kept them roughly parallel to the road and just out of sight.

Kit swayed next to him. Her exposed ears drooped.
Exhaustion left dark bags under her eyes, and her lips cracked from the cold.

So far they hadn’t seen Daeric or the Vatican’s
soldiers. Timothy hoped the soldiers would keep Daeric too busy to search for
them.
What can they hope to accomplish? There are only a few of them against
the entire Church. They have to know that the Church will just keep sending
more soldiers and Inquisitors.

He massaged his calf and listened to the large, wet
snowflakes fall around them. A knot in his shoulder ached from the weight of
his knapsack. Kit had managed to shove the entire wagon into it.

Beside him, Yuzu sat in the snow. Her head bobbed as
she dozed.

Kit turned and took a few steps. She stopped and
glanced over her shoulder. "Let’s go."

Yuzu shook her head and groaned.

"I agree with Yuzu. We have to stop to rest," Timothy
said.

"Oh, I thought we were still walking." Kit brushed snow
from her hair. "My mistake." Her ears twitched.

"We can’t keep going. The little sleep we are getting
isn’t enough. What will we do if Daeric is waiting at Belafonte, and we are ready
to fall over?"

Yuzu yawned and blinked sleepily. "He’s right, Sis."
She rubbed her arms under her wolf pelt. "So cold."

Kit scratched under her sleeves. "What choice do we have?
I am not even sure if we are going the right way."

"You shouldn’t scratch." Timothy straightened and shifted
the infernal knapsack.

"Someone should have told me about that plant sooner."

"That someone did. A certain someone wouldn’t listen."

Kit muttered something.

"And what lesson did you learn?" Timothy asked.

Kit grimaced. "I should listen to my husband more."

"What was that? I couldn’t hear you." Timothy cupped
an ear and leaned toward her.

Kit froze, and her ears stood on end. Timothy’s smile
withered, and his heart lurched.

"Did they find us?" Yuzu whispered. She stood up, trying
to look everywhere at once.

Kit shook her head. Her ears flicked west and then north.
Timothy held his breath and tried to listen for any hint. He swallowed. Yuzu
stumbled to her feet and pull the wolf pelt tight.