“Is it possible these bodies are even from our compound? From one of the visiting battle lords?” Lucien asked the second. “We’re miles from Alta Novis.”
“It’s possible. Or the guy could have been taken from another compound before that storm got to us.”
“Or from one after it left us,” Fortune added.
“Well, if these people are from our conference, hopefully the battle lords or their men will be able to identify their emblems, and eventually who the weapons belong to,” Atty noted.
“Think they’ll be pissed we’re not bringing the remains back with us, so they can be given a proper funeral?” Lucien suggested.
Fortune snorted. “If they are, ask them how long they’d be willing to traipse around in the middle of this heat for days with a wagon-load of ripening carcasses.”
“Either way, we’re finding fewer bodies and body parts the farther we go,” Renken stated the obvious. “At some point we’re going to run out of them.”
“Hey! I think I see another tent,” Mistelle informed them, and pointed off to the west where a line of trees marked the edge of the open field.
Atty shielded her eyes from the setting sun. “It looks close to ground level. Let’s check it out.”
They left the trail to investigate the tent, hoping it would have something attached to it, or written on it, that would identify who it belonged to. Paxton came up along her left side. They rode in twos, usually with Atty in the lead, unless there was the possibility of something lurking just ahead. At which time, Fortune would guard her right side. There was enough room on the wide patch of torn-up ground left in the naydo’s wake.
Lucien pulled up even with his mother. “I know what you’re thinking,” he commented almost nonchalantly.
She cast a side eye at him. “Tell me what I’m thinking.”
“You’re going to order your tent, and all the soldiers’ tents marked when we get back to Alta Novis.”
She chuckled. “You win. I am.”
“Of course, you realize that the chances of another one of those fucking storms coming through and blowing us all to kingdom come is like…nil,” he also pointed out.
Atty gave a nod. “But in the event something should happen to one of our squads, maybe they’re attacked by Bloods, or by animals, and another compound’s soldiers, or Mutah hunters come across the campsite, they’ll know who they’re looking at.”
“You’ll need to tell Dad. That would be a topic he can bring up to the other battle lords.”
She agreed.
As they drew closer, it was clear the tent was suspended in the branches between two trees like a hammock. Mistelle rode ahead to get a better look. Atty got the impression her daughter recognized it.
“Mistelle?”
“I think I know who this striped tent belongs to.”
“Who?” Fortune asked.
“The battle lord of Vega City.”
“How do you know that?” Renken inquired.
“For one thing, it’s the only striped tent I saw outside the compound when I went undercover, selling those bagels.”
“Is it empty?” Paxton wondered aloud.
“I’ll go check,” Lucien volunteered, sliding out of his saddle.
Fortune stopped him. “Never mind.” He pointed to the ground. “It was occupied, but not anymore. There are footprints leading away from it.” The Mutah hunter turned to Atty. “Judging from the size and depth of the prints, I’d venture to say the survivor could be a small male, or a female.”
“Atty?” Renken indicated a spot directly below the remnants. “The vegetation’s crushed in this spot.” He indicated overhead. “Flap’s open. It’s possible whoever was inside fell out and landed here.”
“It has to be Edge’s daughter,” Atty surmised. Nudging her mare forward, she followed the line of footprints Fortune had discovered. “It looks like she was heading north and west.”
