Of Bone and Thunder by Chris Evans Page B

patrol down the slope. Compared to his descent, the rest of the men slid down easily. “Carny, go a yard deep and keep watch on the jungle. Big Hog, grab some sleep, then switch with Carny at midnight.”
    â€œHow am I supposed to know when that is?” Big Hog asked.
    Listowk sighed. “We’re right above the main camp down on the beach, and there are ships galore at anchor offshore. You’ll hear the bells.” The military was as obsessed with telling time as the druids and monks.
    â€œClever,” Wraith said, his helm nodding like a bush in a breeze. He’d definitely picked up more foliage during their walk.
    â€œI have my moments,” Listowk said. “You watch the path. It’s pretty open there so stay back a bit. Weasel, rest up and relieve him at midnight. I’ll sit here in the middle for now and have a nap . . . then I’m going to do a little scouting. I’d like to know where Black Shield is holed up. Take a long drink of water. No smoking, no talking, and if you hear or see anything, you let me know right away.”
    â€œYou really think the slyts will try anything?” the Weasel asked. His voice had a manic tone to it that Listowk didn’t like.
    â€œI don’t know, but we’re almost begging them to try. Let’s just see if we can’t make it to the dawn.” Listowk paused for a moment, wondering if he was being prudent or just jumpy. Even if it was nerves, his caution meant he was still alive to feel them. “Look, my children, if the wind hitsthe branches and there’s nothing else for it, follow the rut away from the path, then make your way down to the beach. Don’t wait around—just run.”
    â€œShouldn’t we try to go back up to the rest of the shield?” Big Hog asked.
    Listowk looked toward the top of the mountain before responding. “If the slyts really do make a move, there won’t be anything up there to go back to.”
    CARNY WATCHED THE LC sleeping against the dirt slope. Listowk had removed his aketon and helm and eased himself into the jungle, draping himself around the dirt and vegetation like a wet rag. The LC looked as comfortable as if he were laid out on silk sheets and a down mattress.
    The only jarring note was his crossbow cradled across his stomach. Though he looked dead to the world, Carny was certain that at the slightest hint of danger, the LC would spring up ready to fight. Still, seeing the crossbow rise and fall with each breath made Carny nervous. The safety latch had to be secure—it was the LC after all.
    Curiosity getting the better of him, Carny inched closer to Listowk to see if the crossbow really was safed but froze when the LC made a noise. It sounded halfway between a growl and a curse. Carny looked up from the weapon. The snarl on Listowk’s face was savage. The genial father figure was gone, replaced by something vicious. His eyes remained closed, however, and Carny let out his breath and eased farther back. Whatever the LC was dreaming about, Carny had no interest in it.
    â€œHey, Big Hog, you awake?” Carny whispered, crawling toward the farmer’s position.
    â€œYou see something?” Big Hog asked. His voice was strong and clear, even as a whisper. He was definitely wide awake.
    â€œNaw, just checking. I can’t sleep. You want to switch watches?”
    â€œForget that,” Big Hog said, shifting slightly in his seated position among some bushes. “I’m here ’til the bells sound, then it’s nighty-night.”
    â€œPlease? I’m going crazy just sitting here.”
    â€œGo bother Wraith then—I’m planting crops,” Big Hog said. He sounded slightly out of breath in his exasperation.
    â€œWhat the hell does that mean?” Carny asked. He imagined Big Hog daydreaming about walking a field with a plow pulled by oxen, gouging thick furrows in the soil while a plump Mrs. Big Hog