CHAPTER TWENTY-EigHT - CHANgEs

Tarn awoke from an uneasy sleep, pulling his bed roll tighter around himas he tried to seek shelter from the wind and rain. The cool, damp air hadmanaged to penetrate his clothes despite his precautions, and he was feelingthoroughly miserable.He hated weather like this – always had, and always would. Grumbling to

himself, he jumped involuntarily as lightning ashed across the sky, followed

by a peal of thunder. He pushed himself up a little tighter against the treenestled on a creek bank he was sheltering under, grateful for its meager protec-tion. He knew he would have to get up soon enough; his internal clock toldhim that his watch was about to start, even though the night was too cloudy to judge by either moon or stars.Sitting up, he looked over at the orc’s tents, and wondered again why theyhad been so foolish as to leave civilization without any of their own.

Well, some of us, at least.

Nyla was safe and warm in her own tent – a “gift”, she said,“from her Uncle.” He sat up and started to shake his blanket off, but it did littlegood.

How could it after two days straight of rain?

He tried to console himself with the thought that the plains of Grummish rarely received storms like this;fast moving thunderstorms were far more common than long days of soaking

rain. In fact, it had been years since they had “beneted” from a storm like

this. The only positive thing he could think of was that the rain made mud which masked their passing from any pursuers. Even though he didn’t thinkanyone was following them, one could never be sure. At least the mud allowedthem to keep moving, even if at a slower pace. If they’d been forced to stop, he was sure he’d go crazy with boredom and worry.Stretching, he went over to where Logan and Tonath stood a quiet watchtogether. He nodded to the other two men, and after a moment of conversationto assure that Tarn all was well, Tonath crossed the small campsite to his ownbedroll.Logan waited a moment, eyeing Tonath. The old veteran had bitterly resistedthe idea of joining with the orcs in their mutual quest to stop the stealer, and ithad taken all the persuasive powers of the other humans to get him to relent.Logan was becoming increasingly worried about him. The cleric waited until the dour little knight was out of earshot beforesaying, “He’s getting worse, Tarn.”“Really?” Tarn said, his voice dark. “You don’t say. I hadn’t noticedanything.”

“Tarn, I’m serious! It’s no longer just his attitude. Have you taken a look atthe color of his skin lately?”“Should I have?”Logan nodded. “I don’t want to tip him off. I don’t know how much of himis him anymore. But next time you see him in any kind of decent light, take alook. Let’s just say he’s either got one nasty case of sunburn, or…” He trailed

off, not needing to nish. Barely two weeks since their ght with the demon,

and Tonath was already starting to show physical changes.“How long?”“Can’t say, Tarn. Could be days, could be a week or more. Not long,though.” Tarn simply nodded, his face saying all he needed to say as the clerictrudged off to his own bedroll.* * * The squish of horses’ hooves was the only indication that marked their

continued progress westward. The rain had nally stopped earlier in the day,

but the sky was still darkly clouded over, and the ground near the creek they were following was a squishy mess. They had to be careful where they stepped,

or they were liable to end up face rst in the mud, and with a horse’s ankle

broken to boot. The lands they were riding into were seldom visited by men, and Tarnsuspected that they were heading deeper into orc inhabited clan holds, because

the orcs seemed as condent of where they were as Tarn felt unsure. That

worried him. Even though he was starting to trust the orc shaman they rode with, he couldn’t suppress that nagging fear that they were being led into atrap. While he believed the Shaman was as gravely concerned about the stealeras he appeared to be, his self-professed contempt for humans and praise for Ten-Kill left Tarn shaken, to say the least.He heard a warg growl up ahead of him and looked to see what had antag-onized the creature this time.

Wargs may be smart animals, but give me a good horse any day. All that ‘intelligence’ just makes them more ornery.

The orcastride the beast wasn’t saying anything, so Tarn supposed the beast musthave smelled a rabbit or something.

Yet another reason to prefer horses. They don’t try and chase after small game with you on their back.

He gave his horse a loving pat on the shoulder, and rubbed the gelding’sneck after he got an encouraging whinny as a response. Glancing ahead, his

eyes sought out Tonath, who was riding point at the front of their small party.

The other knight refused to be anywhere near the orcs, which suited them ne.

As time passed, they wanted even less to do with him than he did with them. The older knight set a hard, but not grueling pace as he continued to lead theparty off to the southeast.

Tarn had stopped trying to gure out how far they were from human lands

by now. He did have to admit that he was starting to get more frustrated as timepassed. Nyla and Tonath never seemed to be anything more than a homingbeacon, heading unerringly off to the east. Whenever anyone questioned them,the tainted ones could give no indication of distance beyond “we’re gettingcloser.”

He certainly hoped they were. Logan was right. Tonath’s skin was denitely

taking on a deep, darkish red tint – almost black – and was starting to

change

,getting harder and more angular. His personality was changing also. He stillseemed in control of his wits, but Tarn could see that it was getting harder forhim. Tonath now kept to himself, taking meals by himself, sleeping away fromthe others, and always riding out ahead of the rest of the party. Tarn assumedthat he was avoiding contact with others to make his roiling emotions easier tocontrol. If not…He shook his head. As bad as that was, something deep inside of him knewthat the other man’s changes weren’t what bothered him the most.What was really worrying him was that he was starting to see the changesin Nyla as well. The girl was riding next to Logan, and she seemed to not be paying anyattention to what was going on around her. He took a few seconds to assessher “new” features. She had always had a pale elven complexion, contrasting

sharply with the dark, ery red hair she had inherited from her mother. Now,

well, he supposed he could pass it off as sunburn.

If there had been any sun in the last few days to burn her.

He had seen nothing resembling the murderous rages that their compan-ions had both exhibited while back at the Keep, for which Tarn was grateful.Out here, not only did they have no way of restoring them or stopping theirrages in any way; he was convinced that any such action would lead ShamanNightcaller to have his men put them down. Quickly.And were that to happen, he didn’t think he’d blame the orc, let alone tryand stop him. In fact, what worried him most was if that occurred was onesimple thought: He might try and help the orcs.