Valdemar Books

by Lackey, Mercedes

  Kel laughed, a deep, rumble. “In fact, my frrriendsss, we could let them marrrch unhinderrred and make a night-camp - and rrremove theirrr sssentrrriesss one by one. Sssi-lently, if posssible.” He examined his talons critically, and held them up, shining redly in the firelight. “Think of the consssterrrnation when the next watch came up, but the onesss to be rrrelieved werrre - poof! Gone!”

  Snowfire looked up at him sharply, with one brow raised. “You,” he said severely, “are an evil creature.”

  :I like it,: Tyrsell countered. :That would be a place where we could be useful. It is no difficult thing for one of us to come upon a man silently and unseen.:

  “I like it, too,” seconded Ayshen. “We might be able to help there, if we aren’t too tired from swimming. Three or four of us could swarm a sentry, and he’d never hear or see us coming.”

  “If we did that,” Windshadow pointed out. “If we triggered the deadfall, set up the traps, and left the harrying to our hertasi and dyheli allies, we could go in that same night and get the villagers out. Even if the barbarians have a way to get messages back and forth, it won’t do them any good. The leader in the village is going to be preoccupied with clearing the blockage, not watching his back, and the leader in the expedition is going to be busy with shadow-fiends picking off his men one by one.”

  “That would also be dividing our forces,” Snowfire objected, then sighed, and scratched his head. “No, it wouldn’t really,” he corrected himself. “The hertasi would be of limited use in a raid on the village, and the dyheli would serve only as targets.”

  :True, and I would refuse that assignment if you were to give it to me,: Tyrsell replied calmly. :This plan plays to all our strengths. Perhaps Kel could come with us?:

  “I can go along as well,” Nightwind offered. “Tyrsell ought to command the group, but I’m not bad with a bow, you know. Kel and I could work together.”

  Snowfire looked as if he was thinking about the proposition very hard, and finally nodded. “It’s the best division of labor,” he agreed. “And the best use of the limited number of fighters we have. Dar’ian can tell us and show us what to do, and once the traps are all in place, we can set the plan in motion.” As Darian looked up at him anxiously, Snowfire patted his shoulder reassuringly. “That will take no more than half a week. Surely your friends can hold out for a few days, can’t they? I know they were being mistreated, but they weren’t in any danger of being handled brutally, were they?” Darian wasn’t certain, but he nodded anyway. It won’t do any good to rush in there before we ‘re ready, he reminded himself. A few more beatings aren’t going to make that much of a difference. Even if it does make a difference - this is better than their alternatives.

  “It’s settled, then.” Snowfire said decisively, then shook his head. “I wish there were another way, but there doesn’t seem to be.” He pointed to Wintersky and Windshadow. “You two go scout with your birds and make us some good maps of the area tomorrow; figure the best direction to herd the barbarians, and where to get them to make a camp, after we block their path behind them.”

  The Hawkbrothers nodded, and Snowfire turned his attention back to Darian. “Now,” he said. “About those traps. . . .”

  Hours later, hands still smudged with charcoal, Darian stumbled back to the ekele, thinking longingly of bed. He stopped just long enough to wash his hands and face before stripping off clothing that still smelled of horse, getting into a clean set of night clothes, and lying down on the pallet. He was keyed up enough that he didn’t really think he’d be able to fall asleep quickly, but he was either better at relaxing or much more tired than he thought, because he didn’t even remember closing his eyes.

  He woke as Snowfire and Wintersky came in, whispering about something, and propped himself up on one elbow to blink at them. “I’m awake,” he called softly. “Anything I should know about?”

  “We just worked out tentative placing for your traps, and ways for the hertasi to trigger them,” Snowfire told him, raising his voice to a more normal level. “I didn’t expect you to be awake, but I’m glad you are. You made all the right choices today, and you deserve credit for doing so.”

  “Right choices?” Darian repeated, puzzled.

  “Oh, you could have gone charging right into the village, thinking you could free your friends, but you didn’t,” Snowfire said, his voice muffled in the folds of his shirt as he pulled it over his head. “You stayed long enough to make detailed observations, then you came straight back here. You didn’t waste time with accusations and carrying on when you got here, you simply told us what you knew and then offered constructive suggestions. In short, Dar’ian, you behaved in every way as a man and a warrior, and I am very proud of you. We all are.”

  Darian felt his neck heating up and averted his eyes. “Ah,” he stammered, “thank you. I - I don’t want anything bad to happen to anybody, and - “ He gulped, and decided to tell the rest of the truth. “The horse brought me out on the top of the bluff, not down at the edge of the village. If I’d been closer, I probably would have done something stupid. But there was no direct way down from there, and, well - that’s probably why I stopped to think.”

  “You still made the right choices.” Snowfire sat down on his pallet, blinking at him with eyes that looked as large and dark as Hweel’s. “That is an important thing for you to know.”

  “Heyla - it’s going to be an early day tomorrow, and the night is only getting shorter for all your talking,” Wintersky pointed out, a little crossly. “We do not all fly owls, here.” He was already lying on his sleeping pad, and he glared pointedly at the mage-light above Snowfire’s head.

  Snowfire chuckled, and the light blinked out. “Good night, Wintersky,” he said. “And good night, Dar’ian.”

  “Hmph,” Wintersky replied, mollified. “Good night.”

  “Good night,” Darian said softly. He lowered himself back down onto his pillow, and the next thing he knew, Wintersky was shaking his shoulder, and it was morning.

  The day wore on, filled with explanations and examples of trap placement and construction. Around him, there were the sounds of wood being chopped, branches split, and snippets of conversation in Tayledras. Darian caught himself feeling like he was playing, once, while he bent and notched saplings for lashing-traps. He felt a pang of guilt, since after all he was engaged in acts of war, to cause pain and even death to those who had done the same to his village.

  My village? I suppose they are, when all is counted up. They weren’t the people I would have chosen to be with, but they were better than - alternatives.

  Yet, making traps was at least something familiar, from a better time in his childhood. It brought back wistful memories of his parents.

  He sighed, thinking about them while he tied off his fourth or fifth lasher, then hacked away steadily at a branch as thick as his upper arm. Things would have been so much better if they were here with him now. His mother always seemed to know the right things to say, or how to touch in just the perfect way to put him at ease. His father was always so strong and capable, with a quick smile.

  “Dar’ian?” a timid voice asked from below a bush. Two small, pebble-scaled hands held out a cup of water from under the cover, and nothing else of the hertasi could be seen. He wiped his brow and murmured a thanks to his largely-unseen benefactor, then drank the cup dry. In a blink, after setting the cup down, it was gone, and a second hertasi voice spoke from behind another bush.

  “Dar’ian, the stakes you requested are stacked on the east side of the red boulder. We hope they will be enough. We go now to prepare the vines.”

  Then there was the slightest rustle of leaves and the sound of scuttling through underbrush, and Darian was alone again. Well, I’d better see how many they managed to get done.

  I’m getting nowhere on this branch, and my arms hurt. If we can’t have enough of these traps ready to stop the soldiers, we might only wind up injuring them enough to enrage them, not discourage them.
Darian sheathed his knife and started off toward the place the hertasi had told him of. Hertasi were amazing to him - shy ghosts with astonishing speed and industriousness. What were their parents like? He found it hard to imagine them having families like his, or the Tayledras. And what about the. . . ?

  At that moment, a large shape detached itself from the shadows of the thicket surrounding the red boulder. Darian froze in place and then relaxed, exhaling sharply when he saw the shape resolve itself into golden-tipped feathers, the hook of an aquiline beak, and the flip and flash of a huge wing refolding against a feathered body. The gryphon stalked out, looking directly at Darian. He seemed impossibly huge even at this distance, yet Darian knew that was only a trick of the mind.

  He caught himself blushing, wondering how long he’d been under the creature’s scrutiny. Kelvren looked down, picked from several clear spots for the most comfortable, and sat down, waiting for Darian to approach. The gryphon’s chest rose and fell quickly as he apparently recovered from some physical effort or other, and his gaze appeared to soften the closer Darian came to him.

  “Grrreetingsss, Darrr’ian,” Kelvren rumbled as he dipped his beak in a nod. “I have jussst completed brrringing the ssstakesss the herrrtasssI have made. They arrre behind the rrred blouderrr.”

  Darian nodded self-consciously. “I heard. I mean, one of the hertasi told me that’s where they were - I didn’t know you’d brought them, though. I hope there’s enough of them.”

  Kelvren’s eyes sparkled and a moment later he wryly said, “I think therrre will be - enough.” Then he raised his head, flicking a tufted ear, and blinked a few times before opening his beak. Kelvren paused, roused his feathers, and bluntly asked Darian, “What trrroublesss you?”

  Darian frowned. “Was it obvious?”

  Kelvren clucked. “If you werrre not trrroubled, I would sssussspect you of not being human. But you arrre trrroubled, ssso, Changechild you arrre not. Ssspeak.”

  “All right. Do - you have parents?” Darian asked the gryphon.

  “Chah!” Kelvren barked. “No, I wasss borrrn ssspon-taneousssly of an arrrtissst’sss drrream and a villain’sss nightmarrre.”

  Darian blushed. “I’m sorry. It was a stupid question. Of course you had parents.”

  Kelvren raised his beak up to point at the sky, then looked back to Darian. “If you mean, do I know my parrrentsss and rrressspect them? Yesss. Verrry much ssso. And do I misss them now? Yesss. Verrry much ssso.” He took a step toward the red boulder, and Darian followed. “One doesss not out-grrrow the feelingsss of fledging, jussst the intensssity of the feelingsss. It isss the way of thingsss.”

  Darian was incredulous, and stopped in his tracks. “You? You miss your - mama and papa?”

  The gryphon walked on without pause and rumbled only, “Don’t you?”

  Darian caught up. “Well, yes, but you’re a gryphon - “

  “And you arrre a human, and we werrre crrreated by humansss, and live with humansss, and learrrn frrrom hu-mansss, and we arrre farrr morrre like you than you know. Why ssshould humansss have exsssclusssive rightsss to any anxsssiety?”

  Darian had to laugh at that. “I guess you’re right. You probably share your gryphon anxieties with us humans, too!”

  The gryphon nodded firmly and winked, stopped a few steps after reaching the boulder. “It isss only fairrr, afterrr all.” He pointed his beak, ana Darian was astonished at what he saw.

  Stacked in bound bundles of twenty or more were sharpened stakes, in different thicknesses, piled as high as he was tall. There must have been hundreds of them, if not thousands.

  Maybe this plan would work after all.

  Snowfire had always considered himself to be in fine shape, but the need to favor his wounded arm was throwing everything off a little, including his balance, and as a result, he ached with unaccustomed strain. A full day of work on man-traps had been more than enough to show him that he probably ought to be in better condition than he was. He was stretching and twisting his good arm as he approached Starfall’s clearing and ekele, hoping to ease some of the aches.

  Hweel was already ahead of him, waiting on a spare perch beside Starfall’s cooperi hawk. Snowfire carried a rough meal of cold sliced meat, flatbread, and wild berries wrapped in a napkin. Ayshen was not cooking today, for he was needed to help set the traps, and although he would not have complained had he been asked to cook a supper as well, no one wanted to place that double burden on his too-willing shoulders.

  Nevertheless, they all had to eat; it would be cold meat, greens, and flatbread for as long as those lasted, and after that, each of them would be in charge of his own food. That was not exactly a hardship for a Hawkbrother; rabbits and tree-hares were plentiful and the birds more than willing to share a catch with a bondmate. Snowfire had already decided that he would see that Starfall ate and drank; if Starfall’s young bird failed to make a kill out of inexperience, Hweel was such a fine hunter that he could have supplied the needs of six people, not just three.

  He found Starfall sitting cross-legged in the center of a containment shield in the clearing beneath the willow branches. The Adept’s eyes were closed, but he sensed Snowfire’s presence as soon as the scout arrived, for he motioned to his visitor to sit and wait without ever taking his attention off what occupied him. Obediently, Snowfire did just that, taking weary pleasure in watching the way the light filtering down through the branches changed from pure gold, to reddish gold, to dark red, and finally to the blue of dusk. The clearing could have been in the heart of the deep Forest, it was so quiet and peaceful here, and Snowfire was content merely to rest both mind and body while he waited for the Adept to complete his current task.

  He did not even conjure a mage-light; he didn’t want to disturb either Starfall’s concentration or the delicate balances of power within the containment shield. So the ball of blue light that appeared above his head was the Adept’s, not his, and was Starfall’s way of telling him that the work was over for now. There was no outward change to the figure within the shield, but a few moments later the shield dropped away and Starfall stood up, stretching.

  “Here,” Snowfire said, handing him the meal. “Ayshen said I was responsible for making sure you eat. So what sort of progress have you made?”

  “The enemy mage is trying to consolidate power for himself, and he’s trying to work his way through all of the locks I put on the lines,” Starfall confirmed. “From the way he’s working, trying to bludgeon his way through, I think he’s under the impression that it’s crude work, possibly done by that master of young Dar’ian. I don’t think he realizes that there is still an active worker about, and I know he isn’t aware of me.”

  “As long as he keeps thinking that, I’ll be pleased,” Snowfire replied, helping himself to some of the berries.

  “I have the bare hint of a power-point out along the river,” Starfall continued, laying a slice of meat neatly on a slice of bread, and roiling them up rogeiner. I strengthen it gradually, as you are setting up the traps; he’ll notice, but it won’t be enough to tempt him. But once the traps are done, I’ll remove it and put it on a dyheli; then I’ll pour enough energy into it that it will look tasty, and I’ll have the dyheli move it farther down the river along the river path. At the same time, I’ll build an illusion around it of a heavily armed caravan moving away. I want to create the impression that the river has uncovered a talisman or artifact, and that someone found it and is carrying it off.”

  “Even if that isn’t what he thinks, he’ll still assume the caravan has something tasty and send his fighters.” Snowfire nodded with satisfaction. “It’s a good ruse. Just make sure your illusion won’t be broken.”

  “It shouldn’t be; I’ve gotten a dyheli doe to volunteer to carry it.” Starfall applied himself to the food. “I’m linking the power-point to her once she gets into position, but not before. I don’t want to have a moving power-point to attract his attention until then. And once we’re done, of course, I’l
l gather it back in and use it as the core of the Heartstone.”

  Snowfire swallowed, and raised his eyebrows. “So you are going to make a Heartstone here?”

  “A small one,” Starfall confirmed, as he finished his first meat roll and built a second. “Not powerful enough for a Clan Vale, and at any rate, it will take a long time before it has accumulated enough energy to be useful. It will be four or five years before anyone could use it to create even a small Vale.”

  Snowfire was not at all sure he liked the idea. He’d thought of several objections when Starfall broached the plan, and those objections hadn’t changed. “Still. A Heartstone out here? Why? And who are you going to link into it, besides yourself?”

  “Why? Why not?” Starfall responded, apparently surprised that Snowfire would object at all. “Sooner or later the k’Valdemar will produce a mage that can use a Heartstone - or we will want an outpost here. You have all complained at one point or another about the lack of civilizing amenities here; well, a Heartstone will make those things possible, eventually.”

  Snowfire grimaced. “And meanwhile? Wouldn’t it attract unwanted attention?”

  Starfall shook his head and took on a little of that arrogance that seemed to come with being an Adept. “Oh, do trust me to know my business, Snowfire; by the time I am finished with concealing it, only another Tayledras Adept who knew that it was there would be able to find it.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Snowfire replied. “Never mind; what more can you tell me about this enemy mage?”

  “He’s certainly strong enough to be an Adept, or whatever these barbarians call such a thing.” Starfall folded and refolded the napkin pensively. “If it came to a fight, he’s not a match for me, but he would exhaust a great deal of my resources in defeating him. I don’t want to have to do that, and to keep from coming into direct conflict, I will have to be subtle. Subtlety requires time and concentration, rather than power. He’s powerful enough that it is going to take all my attention to keep him from breaking the illusion, finding our encampment, and tapping into the new matrix of ley-lines and nodes.”