10
More than two hours later, the ridge line rose like a jagged scar above the trees, its granite face cloaked in pine and morning mist. Kurt crouched low behind a moss-covered boulder, breathing quietly, every muscle coiled and ready.
Beside him, Malea pressed against the underbrush, her eyes trained on the clearing below.
They had made the long trek around the ridge’s outer edge on foot, leaving the horses out of sight while they stuck to game trails the virkin had scouted for them. Now, at the crest, they finally saw the settlement with their own eyes.
The place had indeed been rebuilt to some extent. The central part of it had been transformed into a functional stronghold masquerading as a rustic forge site. Smoke curled from a pair of chimneys, and the clang of iron echoed faintly in the still air. But that wasn’t what made Kurt’s gut twist.
Two enormous crossbows that were larger than any he’d seen in use by regular soldiers, rested on the back of a farm wagon near the edge of the work yard. They had heavy, reinforced frames and winch-loaded arms. They were very obviously engineered for power and distance. And deadly intent.
“What are those things on the wagon?” Malea whispered.
“Those are arbalests,” he muttered under his breath. “Anti-air weapons.”
Malea’s eyes widened. “To shoot dragons.”
On the ground near the farm wagon, a large wooden crate sat open. Inside, they could see neat stacks of long, narrow bolts. Each was tipped with hardened steel. There was a clear channel in each, awaiting a blade of some kind. Likely a diamond blade, though they hadn’t yet been installed.
Kurt scanned the yard, taking stock. He counted eleven men that he could see.
Three were in stained but sturdy leather aprons near the forge.
Two were standing watch with longbows slung across their backs.
The rest moved between crates and carts, hauling ingots, fitting parts, and consulting a rolled parchment pinned to the side of a workbench.
“We’ve found a group of arms makers,” Kurt told Malea
“Look at the blanks,” Malea whispered, pointing to the far side of the forge yard. Racks of dull, silver-gray rods lay in neat rows beside stacks of metal. At least thirty more bolts were unfinished, but unmistakably shaped.
“They’re probably not crafting the diamond blades here,” Kurt said. “Someone else is finishing the weapons, somewhere else.”
“Wherever the diamonds are,” Malea put in.
The wind shifted slightly, bringing the acrid tang of coal and oiled metal.
From this distance, they couldn’t make out individual faces, but the men looked hardened.
They finished loading the wagon as Kurt and Malea watched, then moved it away and pulled another farm wagon around to begin loading that one.
“They’re not preparing to strike,” Kurt murmured. “They’re building a stockpile of weapons to send on elsewhere.”
They watched in silence as the first wagon was covered with loose canvas and one of the guards signaled toward the trail beyond the camp. A second man climbed into the front seat of the wagon and adjusted the reins.
Kurt’s jaw tensed. “Much as I’d like to stop that wagon, we can’t engage them here. Not yet. And not just the two of us.”
“You’re right,” Malea agreed. “We still don’t know where the diamond blades are being made, or who’s behind it all.”
Kurt nodded, dragging his gaze away from the wagon just as it rolled forward and disappeared down a winding path that didn’t lead to the main roads. He wished he could at least follow that wagon and find out where it went. Then, a thought occurred. He couldn’t follow it, but maybe…
“Arch, can you track that wagon for a bit? Observe where it’s headed maybe?” Kurt asked his virkin friend.
“I can,” Arch said, appearing on a nearby tree branch. He looked suddenly alert and almost happy to have something to do. “I will!”
Arch darted off between the trees and was gone from sight in just a few seconds. Keera lifted off more slowly and looked at Malea.
“I’ll keep an eye on him. We’ll follow the wagon as far as we can, but we’ll be sure to be back at the caravan sometime tomorrow,” Keera told them.
“Thanks, Kee, and please be careful,” Malea said gently. The little virkin dipped her head once and then took off after her friend.
“We should head back to the caravan for now and keep our heads down. We need to investigate further. Find the right people and ask the right questions.”
Malea nodded agreement and they backed away from the ridge carefully, slipping into the trees without a sound. The forest swallowed them again, but neither of them could shake the sense that the fire they’d just glimpsed would soon spread if they didn’t stop it. And time was running out.
The sun had just begun to rise over the trees when Kurt and Malea returned to the caravan.
They weren’t quite as stealthy in their return as they had been in leaving, and several people looked up from their tasks to nod at them as they passed.
A few exchanged amused glances. A couple of older women whispered behind their hands.
Zhara Rasim smirked as she stirred a pot of lentils. “Good morning.”
Malea’s cheeks flushed faintly, but she just nodded as Kurt left her with a gentle goodbye. Then, Malea hid her pack behind the wagon wheel and went to help Zhara as if she’d gotten up with the early-rising girl and begun the day’s chores.
Thankfully, Zhara didn’t have a chance to ask her anything because the rest of the family tumbled out of the wagon in short order and the day began in earnest. They’d be breaking camp this morning and heading off on the next leg of their journey.
Hopefully, Malea would be able to snooze in the wagon during the trip to catch up on last night’s lost sleep.
Much later, when the caravan resumed its journey, Arch and Keera returned. When the wagons stopped so everyone could rest a bit and have the midday meal, Kurt sought out Malea, and they used the pretense of sharing a few moments together over food to listen to the virkins’ reports.
“We followed as long as we could, but the wagon went into the mountains, and we needed to turn back,” Keera reported from her spot at Malea’s side.
The little creature was clearly fatigued and had tucked herself under Malea’s cloak, curling up in a tired ball. Arch had done almost the same at Kurt’s side. Both were eating part of Kurt and Malea’s lunch, clearly needing to replenish their energy.
“You did very well,” Kurt told them both. “Thank you for making the effort.”
“But we didn’t find anything,” Arch insisted, sounding a bit disgruntled.
“You saw them heading into the mountains,” Malea corrected him. “That most likely means that the diamond blades are in that direction. That gives us a further clue about where to look, so your efforts were not wasted.”
The caravan rolled into the next village a couple of hours after sunrise.
They’d made camp relatively close and timed their arrival for the morning so as to have most of the day to showcase their wares at the village market.
Tall pine forest gave way to golden foothills and winding stone paths.
Nestled in a wide bowl of land, the village was already alive with the hum of a market day.
Banners fluttered from rooftops. Carts lined the square.
Brightly painted signs pointed toward an indoor pavilion—an open-walled structure built from heavy beams offered vendors shelter from the wind and early frost.
Kurt guided his horses toward the stabling yard.
He caught sight of Malea walking with her trading pack slung over her shoulder, and Lady Keera peeking at him from under the flap.
By the time he had taken care of his horses and found her inside the pavilion, she was already unpacking her wares at a double-wide table tucked into the corner beneath a slanted window.
The natural light was spilling across her gemstone pendants and silverwork perfectly, making everything sparkle.
“I think you got the best table in the market,” Kurt said, setting a small crate of delicate glass vials beside her display.
“I traded the man who normally has this table a pot of wildflower honey for it,” she replied without looking up.
He chuckled and began arranging his colored vials, each one catching the sunlight in a swirl of emerald, amethyst, and sapphire hues.
By midmorning, the market was full of merchants and locals, travelers and traders, drifting between the tables and booths in waves. Laughter rang out from the children near the spice vendor. The scent of hot bread and roasted nuts drifted in from outside.
Kurt handled several curious buyers asking about perfume bottles and potion flasks while Malea spoke with a local craftsman about her faceted amethysts that had been set simply in silver wire.
She’d just finished a sale when a stocky woman with rosy cheeks and flour-dusted fingers paused at the front of their table, absently fingering one of the pendants.
Malea smiled warmly. “Looking for something in particular?”
The woman shrugged. “Just browsing, dear. But you’ve got lovely stones.
Real professional work. Not like this thing.
” She chuckled and reached beneath her shawl, pulling a long cord from around her neck.
Hanging from it was a chunk of dull, pale crystal the size of a plum.
It was cloudy and veined with imperfections, but it caught the light with an unmistakable shimmer.
Malea blinked. “May I?”
The woman handed it over easily. “Sure. It’s not worth much, I’m sure, but I like the weight of it.”
Malea turned the stone in her fingers, heart suddenly thudding in her chest.
It was a giant diamond. Raw, badly flawed, and too large to occur naturally.
She looked up trying to tread softly as her heart raced. “Where did you get this?”
The woman beamed. “From a passing trader. He stopped by my bakery last week, looking half frozen. Said he’d trade one of his ‘pretty rocks’ for something warm. I gave him a meat pie, a loaf of sweetbread, and a flagon of my husband’s wine.”
“Did he say where he came from?” Malea asked, voice steady.
“Said he was headed west, and came down from the high ridges,” the woman replied. “Didn’t talk much. Odd accent. Looked foreign, but polite enough.”
Malea handed the stone back carefully. “You might want to string this on something sturdier. It’s more valuable than you think.”
The woman laughed. “This old thing? I thought it was just glass.”
“It’s not,” Malea said softly, watching her walk away, still chuckling.
Kurt stepped close beside her. “That was something odd, wasn’t it?”
She nodded, voice low. “It was a giant diamond. Very flawed, of course, but they just don’t grow to that size naturally. I’d say that was grown by magic and maybe discarded because it wasn’t perfect enough to sharpen into a blade. With all the flaws, it could just break apart.”
Kurt’s eyes narrowed. “She said that trader passed through just days ahead of us. We’re getting closer.”
She glanced at him, fire kindling behind her steady gaze. “We have to either find that trader or the source of that stone.”
Kurt gave a slight nod. “Preferably both. Either way, we have to follow that lead wherever it takes us.”
And beneath the clamor of the market, a new sense of urgency settled between them. They were definitely on the right track.
Later that day, Malea left Kurt in charge of the table and headed out to get food. She just happened to find the lady with the large, uncut diamond at her bakery stall. While she was buying baked goods from the woman, they got to chatting.
“Do you remember the name of that trader, by chance?” Melea asked casually after she’d mentioned the stone pendant again.
“Oh, aye. His name was Ewan, as I recall. That’s not a common name in these parts, so I remembered it,” the woman told her as she handed over Malea’s order.
“Come to think of it, he said he was heading west, but when he left town, he took the road north. I noticed because he’d been so particular about mentioning his direction, and then, he left before dawn when only us bakers are up and about. ”
Malea thanked the woman and returned to the table, filling Kurt in on what she’d learned between customers.
They were both doing a brisk trade and would be packing up and moving on with the rest of the caravan come morning.
They had only this one market day each month in this town, and people came from all around to be there for it.
Tonight, there would be drinking, singing and dancing as the locals partied and saw friends they only ever saw on market days.
Then, the Jinn caravan would roll out of town, headed even farther north.
The whole reason Kurt and Malea had each arranged to join this particular caravan was because it was a bit exploratory in nature.
The Jinn in this group were mapping out new settlements that had formed in the far north since the land had been joined officially to the Kingdom of Valdis when the ice dragons that predominated in the area allied themselves with King Alric.
As such, this caravan was the perfect cover for two part-time spies who needed to scope out the far north on behalf of their Masters and, ultimately, the crown.