In the frosted weak light of a new day, the damage to the nomad camp was damning.

  A large chunk of the palisade was missing, the tree trunks broken and scattered, leaving the campsite vulnerable to even the most paltry of attacks. Half of the nomad’s horses were gone, mostly the newest horses captured in the past year that had not yet fully become loyal to the clan. Even Quell and Zeke were gone, following the charge of the unicorns and the herd mentality. Tents were torn, sagging or completely collapsed. The livestock had fled for their lives and only half had been recovered.

  And then there were the deaths.

  Four nomads had lost their lives, including the young man that had challenged Judd only hours earlier before being impaled upon a unicorn’s horn. Another of the deaths was an elderly nomad who had been trampled when the unicorns had charged through the camp. The other two were warriors who had stood their ground defending those who could not.

  The number of wounded was much greater. Broken limbs, cracked ribs and impaled bodies were the worst injuries and kept Aalis and the nomad’s healer busy trying to keep them alive before the death toll rose even higher. Aalis’ expression was grim determination. Judd wasn’t sure if she was angry with him, thus ignoring him, or if she was simply so focussed on relieving the suffering of those wounded that she didn’t see anything other than the next patient. He didn’t fancy on finding out.

  Seven unicorns had been killed by nomads, three more impaled on the palisade as they had charged with reckless abandon. Their bodies were being dragged to a space outside the campsite where they could be burned. All their horns had been removed, either in the attack or afterwards. Without their horns, they appeared to be normal horses. Judd found himself thinking back to when Aalis had grieved over the orthros, about the life of the dog that had been perverted by Maul to create the monstrosity.

  He took a moment to pause, looking down at his hand as it gripped the horn of the unicorn he’d slain. The end had snapped off about a finger’s width from the tip. Judd had the deep scratch in his armour to thank for his survival. If not for his breastplate, he would have been impaled like that poor soul that he had to drag Aalis from.

  He noticed that the nomad men did not weep, their grief buried in their actions as they tried to mend what had been broken.

  But the wailing of the women…of the elderly grandmother who had knelt by her grandson and howled wordlessly…

  It hurt more than any wound Judd had ever had before. She was silent now, taken into care by others, possibly those in her immediate family.

  Judd’s grasp tightened on the horn, cold and hard. It was any wonder it did not crumple from his fury. He went to the tent he shared with the others, breath like fog and ducked inside.

  Yolana caught sight of him and put her finger to her lips. Judd nodded as she slipped behind the curtain then reappeared, motioning for him into the furthest corner from the partition.

  “How is he?” Judd whispered.

  “Sleeping.” Yolana said firmly. “The wound was bad enough on its own but the poison made Suvau very ill and weakened him. If not for Aalis drawing the poison out of his body, I do not believe he would have survived.”

  “I’ve had a similar experience.” Judd recalled the bite of the vicious plant in the mangrove swamp. “Will he be alright?”

  “Aalis believes he will make a full recovery.” Yolana put her hand on his arm. “Judd, have you eaten or slept?”

  “How can I eat and sleep after something like that?” He asked hoarsely. “Those unicorns killed themselves, charging into the fence, stormed the campsite, killing and maiming…then left just like that!” He snapped his fingers then caught Yolana’s concerned glance at where Suvau slept and lowered his hand, returning to a whisper. “It was so pointlessly…needlessly…violent and wrong.” He shook his head. “I’ve witnessed some terrible things by the monsters of Maul…but how they did this…”

  “Aalis thinks they had help.” Yolana explained, going to a table where bloodied bandages rested and a bowl of stained water. She picked up a thick, black arrow. “Suvau was struck with an arrow.”

  “There was an archer out there taking advantage of the unicorn’s attack?”

  Yolana nodded and held it out. “Judd, look at the arrowhead.”

  Judd did so, his stomach churning. “That’s the tip of a unicorn’s horn.”

  “Yes.”

  “So…not just taking advantage…but in league with them?”

  Yolana shrugged helplessly. “This is not something I know. But Aalis believes the toxin is a natural occurrence in the horn. Once it enters the blood stream…”

  “I was caught by a unicorn horn,” Judd looked at the bandage on his arm Caste had tied for Aalis had been focussed on Suvau, “I didn’t experience anything like what Suvau did.”

  “Perhaps you have a natural immunity?”

  Judd thought again about the pain and recovery in the mangrove swamp. Perhaps he didn’t have a natural immunity but rather, a reinforced one born from previous experience. He thanked Yolana for the update and went outside. Sunlight was making a weak attempt to glow yellow but the sky was a mottled patina of grey clouds and the wind was bitter, scattering any heat that made it through. Verne, who had been helping clear the broken fence trunks, caught sight of him and immediately approached.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “How is he?”

  “He’s going to survive.” Judd said and Verne shivered. “These nomads won’t if we can’t fill that gap in the palisade…”

  Verne looked at the gap then eyed Judd darkly. “Didn’t do them much good last night. What the Maul is wrong with those unicorns? They impaled themselves just to tear it down! Who does that?”

  “The unicorns weren’t acting alone. We think there was another with them, possibly human.”

  “That’s who hit Suvau?”

  “Yes.” Judd frowned and pointed. “What’s going on over there?”

  Chief Bear, who had not thought it beneath himself to lend his strength to the clean up, had called a gathering to his tent. Judd caught Caste’s eye and jerked his head at him to follow. The cleric had been studying the corpses of the unicorns, making extensive notes about the monsters but he curbed his curiosity, rolling his writing supplies into their leather wrap and hurried to join them.

  Inside the tent the mood was tense. Usually the tent of the chief was for men only but today there were women also. Judd likened it to a war council or public announcement. All were encouraged to attend. Judd spied Giordi. He, Verne and Caste slipped around the back of the crowd to where the minstrel was.

  “Any idea what’s going on?” Judd asked softly.

  “Chief Bear made an announcement and grunted…everyone seemed to know what it meant.” Giordi shrugged. “Everyone but me, of course.”

  Chief Bear looked at the nomads who gathered, a much smaller gathering than those that had been around his feasting table in the past few nights. Some were on crutches, others were bound with bandages yet all, wounded and well, listened as Chief Bear grunted and gruffed.

  “He’s saying that the attack…cannot go…it has to be dealt with…” Caste translated as quickly as he could. “He’s calling for able bodied warriors to track down the unicorns.”

  “Right,” Judd immediately began to move forward as the nomads volunteered by striking their chests, “that’s simple.”

  “Judd!” Caste hissed but he’d slipped away from the cleric before he could be grabbed. Chief Bear saw Judd’s approach, his dark eyes serious and grim. Judd struck his chest. Chief Bear shook his head but Judd would not be denied. He struck his chest again. Chief Bear grunted and waved him back.

  “I’m going.” Judd said and Chief Bear glowered at him. “I am allowed to go.”

  Chief Bear shook his head and muttered.

  “He’s saying you’re a guest, not a nomad.” Caste called. “Judd, listen to him! He’s saying you’ve got no right…”

  “I have every right!” Judd bellowed, startling the nomads and getting Chief Bear’s attention. He pointed out of the tent. “My friend was nearly killed! My horses are gone! These good people were attacked for no reason! I will not stand by and let this happen again.” He stood in front of the chief and held firm. Chief Bear’s gaze was hard to hold. It was unyielding. He spoke again, this time softly. Judd scrunched his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t…Caste?”

  “He’s saying you don’t have a mount. They’re going after the unicorns on horseback. There are only a few horses left and they all belong to someone.”

  Judd’s shoulders dropped. He couldn’t argue with logic and he couldn’t take the place of a nomad who had a right to go. Then there was a soft shuffling and the crowd parted, allowing the elderly grandmother who had lost her grandson to come to the front. She spoke briefly, her gnarled fingers pointing at Judd.

  Chief Bear sighed and nodded. “Gese.”

  That’s all Judd needed to hear. He turned to the grandmother who grasped his hand and drew him out of the tent, across the muddy and blood splattered ground to where the dark brown bay stallion was tethered. In the attack it had been missed as it was not with the other horses. She chittered at him and, taking the reins, put them in Judd’s grasp.

  “Your grandson’s mount?” Judd realised softly. Though she didn’t understand, she nodded, recognising the tone. “Thank you.”

  “Xenon.” She croaked.

  “Xenon?” Judd asked then turned to the stallion. “Xenon.”

  She nodded again, her aged features broken with grief. She walked away, half bent over with age and Judd’s heart sank. He looked at the stallion that eyed him suspiciously as if to say, you don’t have the right to ride me.

  “Listen, we’re going to be spending a lot of time together,” Judd said with more confidence than he felt, “so we’re going to have to get along…and you’re going to need to learn to understand what I’m saying…cause I don’t speak ancient Terra.” Xenon huffed at him, its black mane in its eyes. Judd combed it back, noting just how intelligent its gaze was. “I’ll be back for you.” He promised, making sure it was securely tethered. “I’ll pack light, I promise.”

  He hurried to his tent and Caste, having squeezed out of the war council, sprinted towards him. “Judd…Judd! What are you doing?”

  “I’m joining the war party.”

  “But that’s…there’s no need!”

  “No need?!” Judd turned on him and Caste skidded to a stop, Verne and Giordi coming up from behind, looking at Judd warily. “Look around you, Caste. There is every need!”

  Caste swallowed, licking his lips. “What I meant was, you have your unicorn horn as evidence and the monster mark has been made on your quest list. There’s no need to put yourself in anymore danger over this.”

  Judd’s forehead tightened and he shook his head, eyes closed. “Oh Caste…do you really think I want to be a knight so I can have the title and then look the other way when things go bad?” Caste floundered as Judd looked at him sadly. “Knights aren’t just there to make themselves look good or to have knightly authority. They have a responsibility to protect those in their purview. These people,” he gestured around himself, “are citizens of Terra, whether the Order approves of their way of life or not. And they have been gracious and hospitable, even more so than most knights in forts or lords in manors we’ve encountered.” He paused. “I’m not on this journey just to fulfill a quest to be knighted. I am on a journey to become a knight in word, deed and heart.”

  Caste was speechless and sober. Judd couldn’t blame him for his attitude. The poor officer of the Grail had endured much more than he’d ever wanted since being lumbered as Judd’s cleric. He only saw things in percentages, averages, columns of pluses and minuses.

  Judd couldn’t live like that.

  “You don’t know the language.” Caste protested softly, all heat gone from his protestation.

  “I’ll get by.” Judd said, putting his hand on Caste’s shoulder. “You don’t have to come, Caste. This is well beyond anything you were expected to do. I can do this on my own.”

  He walked away but only made it three steps when Verne fell into stride with him. “I’m going too.” He looked over his shoulder at the stallion. “Think it can carry both of us?”

  “If I leave most of my armour behind except the breastplate and we skip breakfast…” Judd paused. “You don’t have to come either, Verne.”

  “If Suvau hadn’t gotten in the way, that black arrow would have been sticking out of my head.” Verne’s rage was barely contained. Judd had rarely seen so much emotion on the stoic archer’s face. “I owe that bastard archer an arrow in return.”

  Judd nodded. “I think we’d best hurry. We don’t want to get left behind.” They jogged to the tent. “By the way, can you ride?”

  “I can get by. You?”

  “Same…this is going to be interesting…”