Page 133 of A Drop of Corruption

“You’d catch more scents, too, if you put your nose to the earth,” she snapped. “Try it sometime!”

We went west, slipping down the carriage paths of the rolling hills and off into the trees as the sun met the horizon. The rest of the wardens rejoined us, silently emerging from the jungle like spirits. The vials of Darhi’s scent were shared among them, and they prowled through the leaves, occasionally dropping to the ground to sniff the soil or the base of a tree.

At one fork, Sabudara paused, sniffing a patch of clay quite hard, and arose and said, “Gora.”

“Horses,” explained Malo. “She catches their scent here.”

“He fled on horseback?” I asked. “Not with all that gold, surely.”

“Let us assume, then, he fled in a litter,” said Malo, “moving as quickly as horses can pull such a load over poor roads. I gauge they must have moved some ten or fifteen leagues since last night. We shall have to hurry. Are you ready for a dose of kinephage?”

I pulled a face. “How I detest that stuff. Not just the taste, but I shall be hungry for days after…”

“Yes, but we will feast and be merry if it helps us catch our prey!” She gestured to her wardens and hissed, “Sapida posana!”

Then we stopped, pulled tiny black bottles from our packs, uncorked them, and took a great draught.

I shuddered as the acrid, black substance dripped down my throat. Yet the second it struck my stomach, I felt a brightness in my arms and legs as if my veins had flooded through with fresh mountainwater, and the world grew still and clear about me. I had the sudden, flighty urge to laugh and jump and twirl.

“Let us move,” said Malo. “And stay close, Kol! We shall cut across country, and it may be hard to spy my folk in the trees as the sky grows darker.”

—

The Empire hadlong struggled to produce unnaturally fast forces that could live tolerable lives, and the effort had eventually proven so difficult they’d abandoned it. Instead, they either opted for imbuing some soldiers with unnaturally powerful stamina or, preferably, dispensing a graft like kinephage, which granted folk a temporary aptitude for speed and endurance. A soldier with a belly of kinephage brewing about in them could run all day and night and never tire.

Run we now did, the wardens and I, sprinting through the darkening forests of the Elder West, dodging between towering trees and dancing through the ferns. Our passage was speedy, shadowy, and nigh silent; and though our mission was fraught, the graft made my heart glad and sprightly, and I bounded along like a hind romping on a dewy morning.

Hours passed, and I lost all concept of how far we’d traveled. I occasionally caught a glimpse of torchlight amid the darkening hills: perhaps a noble’s distant estate, or maybe the lanterns of Darhi’s litter. I did not know.

Our trail led us along a babbling stream, and there Malo raised a hand, and we slowed. It was deep night now, the stars glimmering greedily above. She whispered with her wardens, then said to me, “Few of us know this part of the Elder West well, but we know we are now on the River Kanda, which runs parallel to the Bunti Road to the north.”

I wiped a rainstorm of sweat from my brow. “All right?”

“It used to be an estate road, where many noblemen once lived. But as the Elder West has declined, many of these estates are now abandoned. Or so we thought.”

“You think Darhi has gone to one of these abandoned estates?” I said.

“Yes. His escape has been well-prepared, so I assume he prepared this place for his flight. He has been wise enough to take this back path rather than the main road, as well. We must catch him before he gets to where he is going, for he shall surely get fresher horses, and perhaps more troops. We will have a fight ahead of us, regardless! Prepare yourself.”

—

We sank lowand continued our run along the river. After another three leagues, Sabudara raised a hand and pointed off into the ferns north of us. We slowed and studied the hills before us, and Malo spoke so quietly that only her wardens could hear her, and many began creeping off into the foliage, vanishing like eidolons into the night mist.

“You will stay with me,” she whispered to me. “We find many ill signs about us now—torch smoke on the wind, many boot prints in the soil, and more. We are close to Darhi, we think.”

I followed her up through the ferns as more of her wardens left us, melting into the night. Then I spied torchlight and lamplight filtering through the trees, and occasionally heard the call of a man’s voice.

Finally Malo and I stopped behind the trunk of a large tree and peered out. A low, sprawling clutch of buildings was arrayed before us, all built of wood, and most rather crudely. Many of them had been intended for the sheltering of animals or harvests, though at the center of their constellation was a large house, sporting two stories and a wide, sloping roof: the house of the master, I assumed.

Positioned before the house was a long litter of soldiers and horses and carts, bedecked with many boxes and crates and trunks. I squinted at them but could not make out much besides the glint of armor and iron about them.

“Nigh thirty soldiers,” Malo whispered. “Well-armored, and all of strong make. Darhi bribed the best of the lot.”

“A wise choice, if so much Yarrow treasure is on that litter,” I said.

“True. We shall kill the soldiers but take Darhi alive, if he lets us.”

“I assume we cannot attack to disable,” I said.