“Someone’s coming!” he alerted the others.
The rest of Shadow Squadron hefted their weapons and prepared for battle, crouching low on the hilltop to avoid being seen by anyone below. Ruekig watched the proceedings with interest, trying to sit tall enough to see who was approaching.
“One of Harg’s warriors,” Tarq reported, having recognized the running vertag. “He has returned quickly.”
“Extremely,” Garnuk murmured. “With news or with trouble do you think?”
“Likely trouble,” Tarq mused. “But you missed the third option: an opportunity.”
“We haven’t had many of those recently,” Garnuk observed.
“No, we just saved hundreds of our race by tricking them into retreating yesterday,” Tarq replied, tilting his horned head to the side.
Garnuk winced. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I should keep my frustration from you and the others better.”
“It would do a lot for morale,” Tarq agreed. “There is still hope, general.”
“Until the dragon takes it away.”
Tarq shook his head and fell silent, realizing this was an argument he could not win. The two leaders waited as the scout climbed to the hilltop, passing through the camp to join them. The other warriors relaxed slightly, returning to what they had been doing before the alarm, but keeping their weapons close at hand.
“General!” the warrior grunted as he approached. “Harg said to inform you that a small group of riders have left the fortress and are proceeding on a path which will bring them quite close to us.”
“How close?” Garnuk asked curiously.
“We’ll be able to see them from this hilltop.”
“And them, us,” Tarq murmured.
“So Harg recommends we hide?” Garnuk guessed, glancing at the scout.
“No, general. The boy king rides with this band.”
Tarq spun around sharply, staring at the scout. “The king?” he repeated excitedly. “The Sthan king? With a small number of guards, passing near here?”
“Yes, captain,” the scout replied, as eager for a battle as Tarq was. “It will be an easy victory.”
“If we are foolish enough to attack,” Garnuk said abruptly, cutting short their enthusiasm.
“Foolish?” the scout asked, bewildered. “General, what do you mean?”
“I mean that while the king is a tempting target, assassinating him would not achieve the ends we desire and could quite possibly get us all killed,” Garnuk said flatly.
Tarq’s shoulders sagged, the light going out of his eyes. “Ah,” he said after a moment’s thought. “Yes, I see what you mean, old friend.”
The scout still looked confused, nearly mutinous in fact, so Garnuk explained further. “If we assassinate the king, we will not be able to run far or fast enough to escape the dragon,” he said, meeting the warrior’s gaze. “There is also the chance such a brazen attack would encourage them to attack our mountains rather than discourage an attack. The Sthan are almost as quick to anger as our own people sometimes.”
Tarq growled under his breath and shook his horned head. “It is a frustrating decision, but the right one,” he admitted. “There will be other opportunities. We just have to wait.”
“Yes,” Garnuk agreed. “We must wait. We must wait and see what the Sthan decide, now that they have saved the West Bank and driven the Usurper’s army back to the mountains. Their decision to march on our homes or to retreat to their own will decide what we do next. And, quite possibly, the fate of our people.”
“So we hide?” the scout demanded angrily, eyes flashing. “We let the king pass us by?”
Tarq stepped between the scout and Garnuk, towering over him by a horn and a half. “You obey the orders of the general,” he corrected firmly.
The scout looked away, reluctantly. “Yes, captain,” he said finally. “I will return to Captain Harg and the others now with your instructions.”
“Share my reasoning with them as well,” Garnuk told the scout. “I don’t want any misunderstandings or unapproved raids by frustrated warriors.”
The scout saluted in reply, then jogged off back down the hill. Garnuk turned back to Tarq, gesturing to the rest of the camp with one hand.
“See to it that no sign of us can be seen from afar, or from the sky,” he instructed. “And see if there is a spot near this hill which is not quite so exposed. Maybe some caves at the base or among the rocks.”
“We are moving camp?”
“Not permanently,” Garnuk said, shrugging. “I’m just being cautious. And hurry. If the king is here soon, there is a chance the dragon will be as well. I’d like to be under cover by then.”
“Me too,” Tarq agreed, shuddering. “This hill is no place to attempt to withstand dragon fire.” The captain left quickly to organize the troops and search for a suitable site to move to. Meanwhile, Garnuk returned to the prisoner.
“What else do you know of the dragon?” he asked in a low, furious voice.
“I have told you everything,” Ruekig spat. “I have no more information for you.”
“Who found it?”
“I have heard only rumors.”
“That’s more than I know.”
Ruekig shrugged insolently, not even bothering to meet Garnuk’s gaze. “It is said the Ramshuk found its egg and gave it to one of his officers to hatch and train.”
“An egg?” Garnuk asked in disbelief. “Are you saying that monstrosity is a young dragon? Not even an adult?”
“Yes,” Ruekig confirmed, frowning. “I suppose that means it might get bigger and more dangerous yet.”
“Almost certainly,” Garnuk muttered in agreement. “How long ago was this?”
“That I do not know. I doubt anyone except the Ramshuk and his trusted officer does.”
“You do not know the name of the officer?”
“No.”
“It was not Arasnak?”
“The butcher?” Ruekig snorted disdainfully. “He has been too busy with his pet wolves.”
“He has done well. They are impressive beasts and seem to obey their riders well.”
“It was not hard to train the rest, once Arasnak had dominated the first,” Ruekig said dismissively. “Any vertag could ride one now.”
“Really?”
Ruekig nodded. “What the butcher did upset the hierarchy of the varloug prans. Their packs are very organized, with clear leaders and followers. When the butcher took over the first pack, he did so by beating the largest and strongest of the wolves he could find. Rumor has it that ever since, every time the butcher and his steed find a new pack the members of that pack submit almost immediately. Not only to Arasnak’s steed, but also to the butcher himself and any vertaga like him. They defer to us because we have mastered them.”
“Interesting,” Garnuk murmured. “So you or I could master one of these wolves, as long as it was from one of the packs Arasnak has already taken?”
“I believe so,” Ruekig replied cautiously. “But I have never ridden one myself.”
Garnuk nodded absently, contemplating what he had learned. “Why are you helping us?” he asked finally, glancing back at Ruekig.
The commander shrugged. “I am not really helping. I have little information to give.”
“But you still give it, and almost willingly.”
The commander shrugged again. It was an infuriating, uncaring gesture. “Because I have seen your forces,” he said at last. “I know your numbers, your capabilities. You are not a threat to either side. Therefore, there is no harm in giving you what little information I have to save my own skin.”
Garnuk nodded. “I understand your reasoning,” he said, gazing off to the south.
“And?” Ruekig asked curiously.
“I will not argue with it,” Garnuk replied, chuckling to himself. “What other rumors can you tell me? Anything about who serves the Ramshuk?”
Ruekig frowned and looked away. “You mock me,” he snarled. “
You think I am wrong.”
“Yes,” Garnuk agreed. “My force may be small, but we are far from harmless. And I can assure you we are very much a threat.”
“To which side?”
“To both,” Garnuk said, stooping to load his belongings back into his pack. “But, at the moment, the Sthan are our primary opponent. They must be stopped before they reach the mountains, or at least contained in the pass that runs to their city by the coast.”
“Yes, they cannot be allowed to break the siege,” Ruekig agreed.
“The siege is broken,” Garnuk said dismissively. “The dragon saw to that days ago.”
Ruekig fell silent, jaw clenched, digesting this news. Garnuk ignored the commander and continued with his preparations, hoping Tarq and the others had found a suitable hiding place. It was only another few minutes before his question was answered.
Tarq jogged up to Garnuk, his own gear on his back. “We have found caves,” he announced. “They will shelter us from the dragon’s gaze. There is also space for us to station lookouts to tell us when the dragon has returned to the West Bank and it is safe to come out.”
Garnuk nodded. “Move our warriors to the caves. I’ll handle our honored guest.”
Tarq nodded and ran back the way he came, gathering the other warriors around him and herding them off the hilltop. Garnuk swung his pack onto his back and hauled Ruekig to his feet with one arm, shoving the bound vertag in front of him.
“You may think of running,” he said quietly. “But remember that you are hobbled and bound and that any of my warriors could catch you with ease. And if we don’t, there might be a dragon flying over these lands soon. It certainly will not miss a lone vertag running across a wide-open snowy plain.”
Ruekig snorted. “I am not so foolish as to go out of my way to make myself a target,” he promised. “I will obey, Exile, but only because I have no other options.”
“Good,” Garnuk said. “Perhaps when we reach the caves we can continue our discussion. After all,” Garnuk added, prodding Ruekig forward, “We are on the same side.”
“So you say,” the commander muttered. “Yet here I am, a prisoner.”
“A guest.”
“Do you bind all of your guests?”
“It is for your own safety.”
“My safety?” Ruekig asked incredulously, slowing slightly as he looked back at Garnuk.
The Exile prodded the commander again to keep him going. “Of course. While you are bound, you can do nothing stupid or foolish. And so long as you do not do anything stupid or foolish, I will not have to kill you for it.”
Ruekig did not make any reply to Garnuk’s explanation, instead concentrating on remaining upright despite his bonds. If he fell, it would be an awkward affair and there was little chance he would regain his balance. In fact, Garnuk realized, there was every chance that he would tumble down the hill in a tangle of limbs until a boulder stopped his progress. To forestall such a disaster, Garnuk took hold of the commander’s right arm next time he stumbled and maintained an iron grip thereafter.
Ahead of them, Shadow Squadron moved in a loose group towards the northern side of the hill, Tarq and another vertag in the lead. Garnuk acted as a rearguard, keeping an eye on Ruekig but also looking out for ambushes. Not that there was likely to be any during such a short march.
When they reached the caves, Garnuk’s warriors were forced to split up. No one alcove was large enough for all of them, so groups of four or five split off from the main body and selected hideouts of their own. Fortunately, there were plenty of caves to choose from. Tarq detailed two rams to take up positions in the concealed observation spot he had selected, then rejoined Garnuk and Ruekig.
“I have found a cave for us,” he informed the general. “It is a little deeper than the others, and will allow us to interrogate the prisoner.”
“See?” Ruekig muttered darkly. “I am a prisoner, no matter what you say.”
“My captain misspoke,” Garnuk said, waving a clawed hand dismissively. “As I keep trying to tell you, we are not the enemy. We are your own people. You should trust us.”
“Then let me go.”
Garnuk sighed heavily. “Lead us to the cave,” he grunted to Tarq. “Then we can keep working on this one.”
Tarq nodded and turned to the side, climbing up a steep, natural ramp of loose rock and rubble, making for a narrow slit of an opening that was hardly visible from ground level. Garnuk frowned at the path Tarq had taken, wondering how he was to get a bound prisoner up there. Ruekig took a few tentative steps forward, wobbling dangerously on the uncertain footing.
“Careful,” the Exile grunted. “Take your time. Do you need a hand?”
“I need you to cut my bonds,” Ruekig snapped. “Then we will have no problems.”
“That I cannot do,” Garnuk replied. He shoved past Ruekig, grabbing the commander by the arm as he passed and hauling him bodily up the slope. The captive bellowed in surprise and twisted and writhed in an attempt to maintain his balance. He was successful for a few moments, then toppled over and lay on the ground, moaning. Garnuk stooped, intending to drag him the rest of the way, but Tarq stepped in and lifted the captive’s legs.
“We can carry him,” the captain growled irritably. “It is not far.”
Garnuk sighed and grabbed Ruekig’s upper body with his strong hands. They lifted the vertag and inched upwards, towards the cave entrance. Tarq followed patiently, placing his feet carefully and taking most of the commander’s weight. It took several more minutes, but eventually Garnuk reached the opening and pulled the others through behind him.
Inside, the cave widened out abruptly and the ceiling rose in an approximate half dome. The walls were rough and cold to the touch, the floor composed of smoother, flat rocks for the most part. Near the left wall, the floor of the cave rose in a short step, creating a ledge a couple meters across and several meters long. Tarq’s gear sat on top of it, stored out of the way to leave the main portion of the cave free. Garnuk tossed his own gear beside the captain’s, then helped him drag Ruekig to the back of the cave.
“There’s still some time to go before the king is due to pass our position,” Tarq grunted as he sank to the floor of the cave. “And, possibly, the dragon.”
“I’d be stunned if the dragon wasn’t watching over the king, especially considering the battle yesterday,” Garnuk replied, scratching the floor of the cave with a single claw. Each stroke left behind a thin, white line. “The watchers have instructions to let us know when the king passes?”
“And when he returns, and if the dragon is sighted,” Tarq agreed.
“Excellent,” Garnuk murmured, continuing to scratch at the floor idly. Tarq watched in respectful silence for a few minutes, then leaned towards the general.
“Do you wish to interrogate our . . . guest? Or do you have some thinking to do first?”
Garnuk sighed and looked up from the network of scratches he had created. There was no discernible pattern to them, no words or designs that outlined any sort of message. It was just something to do with his hands which freed up his brain for deep and complex thinking.
“We might as well,” he decided at last. “There are many options before us, as usual. But I would like as much information as possible before we proceed further.”
“What sort of information?” Ruekig asked sullenly. “Remember, I may not have it.”
“I think you will,” Garnuk assured him. “Or at least, enough to be of use. Now, what can you tell me about the current state of Dun Carryl? Its defenses, its leadership, how the Ramshuk has deployed scouts in the area, things like that.”
Ruekig took a deep breath and glared at Garnuk. “I could tell you such things,” he admitted. “But I have no reason to. You are traitors. You claim we are on the same side in this war, yet you resist the ruler of our people.”
Garnuk frowned. “Not the answers I was looking for. But, I may be able to get them.” He drew his hunting knife from
his belt and leaned forward, towards Ruekig. The commander flinched, cowering against the wall. He froze as Garnuk sliced through the bonds around his ankles, hesitantly relaxing.
“If you want your hands freed, you need to put them where I can get to them,” Garnuk grunted.
Ruekig shifted slightly, and Garnuk cut away those bonds as well. The commander rolled his shoulders, stretching out his muscles. “Why?” he asked.
Garnuk shrugged. “You are not our enemy. The Sthan are our current problem. I do not care for the Ramshuk for obvious reasons, but the vertaga are my people too. I would not see them perish.”
Ruekig nodded slowly, looking around the small cave. “That is admirable,” he said at last. “You have been given much reason to hate him. He usurped your position, drove you from your home, put a price on your head – ”
“I may yet hold him accountable for those deeds,” Garnuk interjected. “But for now, the vertaga come first. What can you tell us?”
The commander tilted his head to the side, studying Garnuk. “I could try to run now,” he observed.
“You would not get far,” Tarq growled.
“I have no reason to help you, now that my bonds are gone.”
“They can be put back,” Tarq snarled, gripping his axe.
“Take it as a gesture of good faith,” Garnuk said, shrugging as though he didn’t really care one way or the other. “We help you, you help us. I should also tell you that, without whatever information you carry around between your horns, I can’t do the best job of protecting our people that I am capable of. The knowledge you possess could be what is needed to save our race.”
Ruekig sat in silence, contemplating. Then, finally, he swore under his breath.
“I may be branded a traitor,” he said, his voice low and rough. “But I will tell you what I can. For the vertaga.”
Garnuk nodded, leaning forward. “Excellent,” he murmured. “Now, let us begin. We have much to discuss.”
Chapter 47:
Marching Orders
Initially, Ruekig answered Garnuk’s questions carefully, and only after several long moments of wary consideration. He may have agreed to help, but he still did not trust Garnuk and his warriors completely. Garnuk made no comment on the commander’s hesitations, since he was still getting the information he needed.
The Ramshuk (Heirs of Legacy Book 3) Page 47
