by Simon Hawke
Sorak gave him his hand. “I hope the day when we are at cross purposes never comes.”
“So do I,” said Kieran. “Now, tell me more about this vision that you had just now.”
Sorak described what he had seen, in as much detail as he could recall. When he was finished, Kieran nodded.
“Dressed in black from head to toe, eh? With black breastplates and black arrows. You are sure about the arrows?”
Sorak nodded. “Is that important?”
“It is the trademark of the Shadows,” he said.
“Who are the Shadows?” Sorak asked.
“You do not know? I am surprised. It is a tribe of elves, one of the oldest in existence, but the Shadows are no ordinary tribe of nomads. Once, many years ago, they were, but they have since evolved into a society as dark and secret as their name. Little is known about them, other than that they are masters of espionage, extortion, theft, and assassination. Especially assassination. They are divided into groups called talons, each led by a talonmaster. Each talonmaster commands a group of subcommanders known as shadowmasters, each of whom leads a smaller group known as a claw. Each claw has its own specialty. Some claws are devoted solely to magic, others to theft, assassination, raiding… And in command of all is the grand shadowmaster. Who that may be is anybody’s guess. If the raiders you saw in your vision are indeed Shadows, we’ll have our hands full.”
“Perhaps Grak may be of help,” said Sorak.
Kieran snorted. “Oh, I doubt that,” he said. “I would not even bother asking.”
“But he is a friend of yours,” said Sorak.
“An old acquaintance,” Kieran corrected him. “But Grak’s first loyalty was and always shall be to Grak. He might consider lending us some mercenaries to escort us into Altaruk, but he would insist on a share of the cargo in payment, and I am not authorized to make such a bargain. I doubt Lord Jhamri would approve.”
“Would he rather lose the entire shipment?”
“No, he would rather I protect it,” Kieran said. “And it would make a poor beginning if I started my new job by admitting I could not do it properly, which is how he would see it. No, we shall have to take care of this ourselves.”
“You may count on me,” said Sorak. “And on Ryana.”
“I did not doubt that.” Kieran frowned. “The Shadows are a cut above ordinary raiders,” he said. “And even common raiders usually attempt to place at least one agent in a caravan, to learn the nature of the cargo and the disposition of the guards.”
“Edric!” Sorak said abruptly.
“The bard?”
“I had a strong intuition about him from the start,” said Sorak. “I thought, at first, I just disliked him, but I could not help feeling he was up to something.”
“You may be right,” said Kieran. “He joined the caravan in South Ledopolus, and who would suspect a mincing bard traveling with a dancer? You think Cricket may be in on it as well?”
Sorak shook his head. “I don’t know. Somehow I doubt it.”
“Well, there is one way to find out,” said Kieran. “Let us go see your friend, the priestess. If you’re right, we’ll know for sure before the night is out.”
Chapter Ten
It was shortly before dawn when they saw Edric leave his tent and make for the oasis pool. He walked casually, with no appearance of stealth, sauntering slowly with his cloak draped over his shoulders and a short clay pipe clamped between his teeth. He looked as if he had simply risen early and was out to enjoy a short walk and a smoke and refresh himself at the pool. Sorak and Kieran followed at a distance, staying low and keeping to the shadows, mindful of the fact that elves had good night vision.
If Edric was concerned about being watched, he gave no outward sign. He simply continued down the slight slope to the pool, where he stopped by a stand of pagafa trees and broom bush at the water’s edge. He crouched and gently tapped out his pipe with the heel of his palm, then set it on the ground beside him. On his knees, he leaned forward with hands cupped and splashed some water onto his face, then dried off with his sleeve, took a drink, and sat back to refill his pipe from a small, rolled pouch. Just an early riser taking his ease.
“There!” whispered Sorak, grasping Kieran’s upper arm as they lay beside each other on the ground, watching from about thirty yards away. He pointed. “By the broom bush. Do you see?”
Kieran shook his head. “Your elfling eyes are better than my mine,” he said in a low voice. “What do you see?”
“A dark form crouches in the bushes to the bard’s right,” Sorak said. “Well concealed, but I can just make him out. Edric isn’t looking at him, but I think they’re talking.”
“As I thought,” said Kieran. “A final conference before the attack.”
“Very bold,” said Sorak. “The raider managed to get inside the walls and sneak right up to the camp.”
“Not as bold as you may think,” said Kieran. “Grak will allow anyone within the walls, so long as they pay the toll and cause no trouble. He probably came in just after we arrived and mingled with the crowd.”
“There, he’s moved,” said Sorak. “Can you see him now?”
Kieran squinted, staring intently. “Yes, I see him now. But if I didn’t know just where to look, I’d never spot him. He’s a Shadow, all right. He’ll probably leave right after we depart and ride out to join his friends.”
“You want to take him?”
Kieran shook his head. “No, let him go. If we take him now, the Shadows will know we’ve been alerted. That might prevent the attack, but I doubt it. You saw it in your vision. And unless your vision played you false, that means it will take place. Better to let them think they still have the advantage of surprise. Come on, we’ve seen what we came to see. You were right about the bard. We’d best go see the captain and make plans to receive our visitors.”
They made their way back to the tents and found the captain already up and dressed, having a light breakfast of herbal tea and bread spread with kank honey before starting his morning tasks of preparing the caravan. He rose to his feet at once as they entered the tent, but Kieran waved him back down.
“Sit down, Captain, please,” he said. “Do not let us interrupt your breakfast.”
“Is something wrong, sir?” the man asked anxiously, as he resumed his seat.
“We are going to be attacked by the Shadows tonight.”
“Gith’s blood!” the captain swore. “The Shadows!”
“Lower your voice,” said Kieran calmly. “We have been infiltrated. The bard, Edric, is one of their agents. There may be others. How well do you know your men?”
“I have had the same crew for close to a year now,” the captain replied, “and some have been with me even longer. I trust them, but I cannot speak for the passengers.”
“They can be watched,” said Kieran. “However, there may be some last minute additions. Anyone who books passage this morning must be especially suspect.”
“Then we’ll take no passengers from here.”
Kieran shook his head. “No, that would not be wise. There would be no reason to refuse except that we may be expecting trouble. Accept anyone who wants to go, but point them out to me.”
“Understood,” the captain said. “How do you wish me to proceed?”
“Your crew seems efficient,” Kieran said. “We’ll tell them nothing until we make camp tonight. But in the meantime, I want you to select half a dozen mercenaries and inform them individually during the day. They shall report to me at the midday stop. Now, here is what we are going to do…”
* * *
By midday, the caravan approached the northern tip of the Estuary Mountain range. The broad Estuary of the Forked Tongue thrust deep into the desert Tablelands from the Sea of Silt, curving slightly from the coast and terminating roughly two hundred miles inland, just a few miles east of the Estuary Mountains. Where the mountain range straddled the estuary, it formed a small valley in a natural pocket, with a
pass leading through the mountains to the west. It was in this small valley that Altaruk stood.
“From here on in,” said Kieran as they rode together at the head of the formation, “we will be traveling with the estuary on our right flank and the mountains on our left, which makes the terrain ideally suited to an attack.”
Sorak nodded. “By late afternoon, the mountains to our left will cast shadows toward us. Together with the rolling terrain of the foothills, that will make any approaching party difficult spot. By nightfall, even if the moons were full-and tonight, they won’t be—there will be little visibility.”
“Precisely,” Kieran said. “That means the outriders will not be able to range far from the camp without exposing themselves to danger, but bringing them in closer reduces their effectiveness.”
“There seems no point in exposing the outriders,” Sorak replied. “They could be ambushed before giving the alarm. It would be wise to bring them in. That way, they will not be so exposed and shall be more useful when the attack comes.”
“Good thinking,” Kieran said, nodding. “Did you happen to notice that three new passengers joined us at Grak’s Pool?”
“Mercenaries,” Sorak said. “One half-elf and two humans. But tribal elves do not accept half-breeds, and certainly not humans.”
Kieran shook his head. “No, these are merely hired blades. I asked Grak about them before we left. They arrived at the oasis the day before we did. And they came in from the north, which means from Altaruk. They’re going back the way they came. No one comes to Grak’s Pool just for a short visit.”
“It does seem rather a long way to go for a drink,” said Sorak.
“Especially when Altaruk offers much better entertainment,” Kieran said. “So, it seems we shall have at least four people to take into custody.” He smiled. “I do hope they resist.”
“What do you want me to do?” Ryana asked.
“I appreciate the offer of assistance, my lady,” Kieran said. “We will require every fighter we have to ward off the attack, for we do not know how many raiders to expect. With any luck, we may learn that information shortly, but the safety of the passengers must be considered. And for all we know, there may yet be other infiltrators among them. To guard against that possibility, and to keep the others safe from harm, I would like to place you in charge of the roustabouts who will be protecting them. They are a hardy lot, but there’s not a trained fighter among them.”
“Some might resent taking orders from a woman,” said Ryana.
“If any of them are fool enough to question the abilities of a villichi priestess,” Kieran said, “then you have my wholehearted encouragement to point out the error of their thinking.”
Ryana grinned. “I would be happy to.”
As they stopped for their midday break, the outriders came in, and six of them came at once to Kieran. He quickly instructed them in what they were to do. As the passengers dismounted, the outriders quickly closed in on the three mercenaries who had joined the caravan that morning. Two of them took each of the three, disarmed them, and took them into custody. It was all done so quickly and efficiently that the three men never had a chance to put up a struggle. As they were being taken, Sorak and Kieran positioned themselves close to Edric, and Ryana stood by to watch Cricket, just in case.
Edric showed only the barest flicker of alarm when the three mercenaries were seized, then quickly got himself under control and turned to Kieran with a frown. “What’s happening?” he asked. “What have these men done?”
“Oh, nothing—yet,” Kieran replied casually. “We are merely taking your confederates into custody as a preventive measure.”
Edric frowned. “My what?”
“Exactly how many Shadows may we expect in the attack tonight?” asked Kieran conversationally.
“I do not understand,” said Edric, trying to brazen it out. “Shadow elves? Attack?”
“Save your breath, friend,” said Kieran. “We witnessed your rendezvous this morning.”
“There must be some mistake,” said Edric. “I met no one this morning. I had merely gone to the pool to—” Even as he spoke, Edric launched a fast kick at Kieran’s privates. Kieran managed to twist aside slightly, but Edric still caught him a glancing blow and Kieran doubled over in pain. But before the bard could do anything more, Sorak was on him, wrestling him to the ground. A moment later, two of the caravan guards joined in, pinning him down. They raised the struggling bard to his feet and one placed a knife against his throat, ending his resistance.
Gritting his teeth, Kieran straightened up, still smarting from the blow. Had the kick caught him squarely on target, there was no question that it would have incapacitated him. “I must be getting slow,” he said, his voice strained. He gave Edric a look of withering contempt, and then turned to gaze briefly at the three captured mercenaries. “Now,” he said, “I am going to ask you four some questions. If you cooperate, you can spare yourselves some pain, but I promise you, I will get answers, one way or another.”
The caravan guards led their captives away as the passengers stood around, murmuring among themselves.
Wide-eyed, Cricket turned to Ryana in confusion.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “Why have they taken Edric and those men? What have they done?”
“You pretend you do not know?” Ryana said.
“But I do not know!” Cricket protested. “I have no idea!”
Her confusion and concern seemed genuine. “The Shadows plan to attack the caravan tonight,” Ryana said. “Edric was their spy, and the others his confederates.”
“But… that cannot be!” said Cricket. “I know Edric! We worked together at the Damsel! You were there! Surely, you must have seen him!”
“How long did he work at the Desert Damsel before the caravan came to South Ledopolus?” Ryana asked.
“Why… a week or so.”
“And before?”
Cricket shook her head. “I do not know.”
“He arrived in town and established his identity as a wandering bard,” Ryana said. “That provided a good cover for him when he joined the caravan. You were part of it. He used you.”
Cricket did not want to believe it. She shook her head. “No, you must be mistaken. What proof do you have?”
“There is no mistake,” Ryana said. “Sorak and Kieran both saw him meet in secret with one of the raiders at Grak’s Pool shortly before dawn this morning. He was doubtless informing him of the strength and disposition of our guard and what type of cargo we carry. He and the other three who joined us this morning were to strike at us from within when the attack occurred. They would have killed the cargo guards and handlers and driven off the beasts, then probably taken hostages among the passengers.”
Cricket shook her head with dismay. “Then it was all a lie,” she said in a dull voice. “His friendship, everything he told me… Just when I had finally met a man I thought I could trust…”
“I’m sorry, Cricket,” said Ryana, putting a hand on her shoulder in sympathy.
Cricket shook it off. “Leave me alone.”
* * *
Accompanied by a squad of the caravan guard, Kieran and Sorak led the captives away from the others, going off a distance and down a slope toward the bank of the estuary. The four prisoners were bound securely, their hands behind their backs. When they reached the shore of the estuary, Kieran signaled the guards to push the captives to a sitting position on the ground. Edric looked perfectly calm and composed, but the other three were clearly frightened. They were painfully aware that they were completely at the mercy of their captors.
“Now, I do not wish to waste time,” said Kieran, turning to face them. He glanced over his shoulder at the sluggish brown silt. “I will ask one question. If I do not get an answer, or one that satisfies me, I will have one of you thrown into the silt, and we’ll watch him drown. I will leave your legs free, so I imagine you will be able to stay up for at least a few moments, but a few mo
ments is all you’ll have before you get sucked down. Drowning in silt is not a pleasant experience. When the first of you is gone, I’ll ask a question of the second. And so forth, until I have the answers I want.”
Two of the mercenaries immediately began protesting that they didn’t know anything beyond what they were told to do. The third simply started sobbing and wet himself. Edric alone remained calm and silent. Kieran fixed him with a steady gaze. “I’ll save you for last.”
“I have no wish to die or suffer pain,” said Edric, meeting his gaze steadily. “These three hirelings are telling you the truth. They know nothing beyond their assigned tasks when the attack takes place. I have the information you want, but how do I know you will not kill me anyway as soon as I divulge it?”
“You do not,” said Kieran. “But you know I will kill you if you say nothing.”
Edric smiled wryly. “I readily concede the point,” he said. “Very well then, I’ll do my best to bargain from a poor position. What do you wish to know?”
* * *
The watchfires created small, bright spots of illumination around the camp as midnight approached. The cookfires by the tents had burned down to embers, and all was still. The outriders had been pulled in earlier, even before the caravan had camped. As the shadows lengthened in the afternoon, they were brought closer, to ride along the left flank of the column until the caravan stopped. They ranged close to the camp until the guards had been posted and the fires were lit, and then they were brought in.
The handlers had staked the beasts down, and the roustabouts had stacked the cargo in the center of the camp. The passengers and most of the caravan crew had all retired for the night. From outward appearances, everything looked perfectly normal; the caravan had stopped to camp within less than a day’s ride from its destination, taking token precautions on the last night of their journey. However, Kieran had made sure appearances would be deceptive.
