"You see that dark square-topped summit over there? There's a broad valley just behind it. That's where we're headed next. We're further south than I intended, but if I'm not mistaken, this track will lead us right there."
And it did. Tortuously and at times steeply, it took them over two passes to a steep forested slope overlooking a swift river, whose upper reaches were out of sight round a craggy shoulder. When they descended to the valley floor next day, they found themselves joining a wide track with fresh signs of usage.
"A lot of cattle," Rasscu commented laconically, as they looked at the hoofprints and cakes of dung. "Going up. Funny time of the year to take your animals into the mountains." This remark was aimed at Idressin, who shook his head to indicate that he didn't know the answer to the anomaly.
"There's a lake a few miles ahead with good open pasture all round," he said slowly. "But I didn't expect to find anyone up here so late. The first snow will be falling soon and then it's almost impossible to move around for months. Let's ride on. I'll be interested to meet these 'cowherds'."
On the approach to the lake the valley swung to the south and widened. Just as Idressin had described, the water was surrounded by wide sweeps of grassland, dotted with cattle. There were half a dozen cabins within sight scattered round the lake, the two nearest of which had tell-tale plumes of smoke rising from their chimneys.
"There's the cattle," Berin said, "and here's the reception committee."
Two riders mounted on magnificent horses trotted up from a concealing dip just ahead of the travellers and at the same moment three more appeared from a gully behind them. They were a grim-looking bunch, their clothing coarse and patched, their hair and beards unkempt. By contrast the good condition of their weapons and their mounts told its own story. These men set a high value on speed and violence.
The two in front barred their path and brought them to a halt, sitting their horses impassively while their companions closed in behind. Then the oldest of them, who carried broad streaks of white in his beard, addressed the travellers in Dendrian. Idressin's reply seemed to surprise them and a lively discussion followed, appearing to veer between suspicion and curiosity. The tutor spoke again. After a moment's silence, the white-bearded man nodded and gave a sharp command. The five riders ranged themselves behind the group and they all set off at a gentle pace towards the nearest cabin.
Following Idressin's lead they dismounted and hitched their ponies to the rail at the front of the building. The older 'cowherd' went inside, to reappear almost immediately with a youth who examined them all coolly from a pair of expressionless brown eyes, while the man talked at some length. He finished up by pointing west and shaking his head. The youth regarded them intently for another long minute then spoke to Idressin. Caldar started. It was a woman's voice. He stared, and sure enough there was a female shape inside those man's clothes. The brown eyes swung back his way and he blushed at the flash of amusement in them as they intercepted his obvious examination.
"They're accepting us as harmless travellers," the tutor explained later in Esparit. “But they find it hard to believe that we're going west at this time of the year, so they're keeping a guard on us while they try to work out what we're really up to and whether we represent any danger to them."
The four of them were sitting in a small store-room at the back of the cabin, while one of their captors lounged in the doorway. A delicious smell of cooking from the stove made their stomachs growl with hunger.
"Do they know something we don't about what lies west of here?" Rasscu asked innocently.
"Well, they say no one in their right mind is going to venture into the high mountains with winter coming on, unless there's a very good reason for it. Gold or precious stones is about all they can think of that would motivate them to do it themselves, and it annoys them that they can't get the real story out of me."
Just then they were summoned into the main room for supper, joined at the table by four of the men while another sat and guarded the cabin's front door. There was a friendly atmosphere at the meal, and when Rasscu commented in Shattun on the excellence of the stew, the slim young man opposite him leaned forward and said, "Should be good. Best beef in Dendria this. And just about the best cook too."
"What d'you mean, 'just about'?" the huge fat man tending the stove shouted menacingly across the room. "I heard that, Kosmo. No second helpings for a month for you."
Amid the general laughter, Kosmo replied, "Come off it, Rolly. You're not in the army now." Then turning back to Rasscu, he went on, "Number one chef in the whole damn Dendrian infantry he was. Couldn't see what a star they had. Demoted him to kitchen assistant when he criticised the new dried food they were introducing for army rations. Nobody liked the stuff, but Rolly was daft enough to say his piece in front of the general responsible for the idea. Not very tactful."
"While this clever gentleman chased the Governor’s Survey Teams off his land four times in as many weeks." The cook had come up behind Kosmo and laid one meaty hand on each thin shoulder. "They were trying to deliver official documents declaring his farm as Imperial land. The fourth time he made them leave their horses and their boots behind and walk back to town barefoot. Tactful? Hah! They came back with a whole company of soldiers and they'd have strung him up if they'd caught him."
"I know why this beef tasted so good," Rasscu joined in boldly. "It's a gift, isn't it? A special present from the Emperor to his appreciative people."
There was a slight tension in the room for a moment, then Kosmo shrugged, "Ah, shit, who cares? You'd have to be incredibly dumb to think we're herding cattle up here in winter from choice. Yes, that's the Emperor's beef. It was ours before the Governor stole it. And now we've just helped ourselves to a little of our own stock again."
"We call that 'restoration by due process of law' these days,” Rolly added, “seeing that the Governor's seen fit to discard the whole Imperial legal system."
Caldar was just wondering about the cook’s surprisingly educated turn of speech, when the door burst open and a couple of young men strode in.
"Heard we had visitors." The speaker was the younger of the two, hard-faced and confident. He spoke Shattun, but in a strange accent which Caldar could not place. "Snoopers? Found out who sent 'em yet?"
"No," Kosmo replied. "Hettum and Farli are back-tracking them while it's still light to make sure there's no more coming along behind. Say they're headed west. Ponies. No weapons. We can't work it out."
"Well, let me do a little persuading with a hot poker and we won't need to work it out."
"No. We're not doing anything except guarding them till Hettum gets back."
"Since when did my sister . . ."
"Hold on, Pak." The second of the newcomers caught his companion by the arm. "I know who these people are. You remember. The reward."
Comprehension, followed by triumph dawned in Pak's face.
"You're right. Hey Kosmo, they're offering a thousand gold imperials for this bunch in Rodopik. A nice round thousand." He laughed, clearly excited at the thought of such wealth. "Somebody really wants them."
Kosmo's face was unchanged as he asked, "You'd hand them over for a reward? To the same people who put a reward out on us?"
Pak's face showed his surprise. "But it's a lot of money. Enough to keep us all in style somewhere for years. That's all we're doing here, making money, whether it's cows or strong-boxes we're stealing."
"No." Kosmo contradicted him evenly. "You may have your own reasons, but we're here because we’ve lost what we had, because there’s no other way for us to live a decent life in Dendria any more. We're here, ‘cos we want to be free, not rich, and I’m guessing that goes for these folks too."
"Come on, it's just four strangers. What the …."
"Forget about it," Kosmo said with finality and turned his back contemptuously on the flushed youth. Pak looked around the other men in the room and saw only indifference or scorn. Without another word he swung around and b
arged out into the gathering dark, followed hesitantly by the second youth.
The incident had cleared the air and the man by the door came to join the group round the table. No need to guard people who were wanted by the authorities even more than they were themselves.
The cowherds talked freely and soon confirmed that they were outlaws who had all stepped out or been driven out of a society which they now found intolerable. They raided the new Imperial estates, reckoning that the Emperor, who probably didn’t even know what the Dendrian Governor was doing in his name, owed them a share; and a couple of times they had intercepted Imperial Collectors carrying tax money back to Karkor. Their present location in the mountains was to be their winter quarters this year and they had already brought in enough beef and supplies to see them through till spring.
Hettum, Kosmo explained in reply to Rasscu's query, was their planner. Adept at gathering information, she would go ahead of them and have all the details of a raid worked out by the time they all met at a prearranged rendezvous. So accurate were her plans that they had had no problems and had not even harmed any of their victims, except one guard who had been killed by Pak on a Tax snatch. There was no leader among them, but their respect for Hettum's judgement meant that her opinion carried more weight than any other.
She and her brother Pak were from Malefor, the only non-Dendrians among them. Kosmo wasn't quite sure of the story, but it seemed that Pak had killed a man and that Hettum had gone on the run with him, effectively to look after him.
In turn the outlaws heard Idressin’s brief version of the travellers' story with sympathy, and they were now able to understand their westward heading. The main highway to Malefor would be much too dangerous with such a reward out. They still tried to dissuade them from venturing into the high mountains with winter approaching and were clearly puzzled by Idressin's confident assertion that they had friends up there who would help them. They were also intrigued by the size of the reward: a thousand imperials was more money than a tradesman would earn in ten years. The tutor passed it off as a political matter and his audience did not press him for a clearer answer.
An hour after dark Hettum returned with Farli, the white-bearded man. As they sat down to a late supper, they swapped news, speaking in Shattun so their visitors could understand.
"Where's Pak?" Hettum asked suddenly, spoon poised over her stew, face serious.
"Outside or at the other cabin," Kosmo replied. "But I'll check." He was back within minutes, saying that the men at the other cabin had seen the two young men ride off down the valley at last light, travelling fast.
"We were on the valley road" Farli said grimly. "They must have deliberately sneaked past us. Only one reason to do that. Damn!"
"I'm sorry we're going to be the cause of so much trouble for you," Idressin put in quietly. The outlaws looked at him in surprise.
"It's not you," Hettum replied sadly. "It's that brother of mine. He's got gold fever so bad he's betraying us as well as you." Turning to Kosmo she said, "We'll have to move the cattle out at first light. We'll go north west, then split them up. It'll take Pak at least four days to get a patrol up here, and when they see the country we've headed into, I think they'll just turn around and go home. There are plenty of other outlaw bands for them to chase."
"They're more likely to follow us than you," Idressin observed. "A thousand's a lot of gold. So we'll make it easy for them, leave a nice big trail."
The outlaws studied them curiously. "You're not worried about being followed?" Kosmo asked.
"No, not really," the tutor laughed. "As you said yourselves, no one in their right mind is going to go too far into the Holonai mountains in winter in case the weather closes the door behind them."
The talk then switched into Dendrian and veered onto routes, meeting places, provisions, all the details of a small campaign. The travellers admired Hettum's obvious command of the whole plan, even though Idressin was the only one who could properly understand what was said. Preparations for the morning departure were still in full swing when the youths finally gave up and went to bed.
By the time they were up next morning, they found that most of the Dendrians had already gone. "They're taking the cattle over a pass north of the lake," Hettum explained. "Kosmo and I will soon catch them up. I’m really sorry about what Pak’s done, but don’t underestimate him. With that much gold on offer, he'll follow you to the ends of the earth."
She regarded them curiously. "There's a mystery about you. You're not bothered about pursuit. You weren’t bothered yesterday when we caught you. You cheerfully go where you say the soldiers won’t follow you. And yet I still have no idea why you've come so far or why you’re taking such risks. Maybe we'll meet again and I'll solve the riddle. Meanwhile 'may your roads be smooth and your arrivals joyful'. And if you do meet Pak, don't kill him if you can help it."
"We’re simple travellers on a peaceful journey," Idressin said blandly.
Hettum and Kosmo looked at each other and burst out laughing. A quick handclasp all round and they mounted and rode away, still chuckling.
The four travellers set off soon after. The tutor kept them clear of the cattle tracks to leave a good trail, as he had promised. Passing the point where the herds had swung north, they continued along the valley for the first two days in a chill gusty rain. It was easy going except where the dwindling track crossed the swollen river. At the first crossing they eyed the racing current with trepidation; but their ponies proved to be fearless, sure-footed and good swimmers when it was necessary. Soon they themselves were taking these passages in their stride, though they never quite got used to the discomfort of being wet all the time.
On the third morning the first breaks appeared in the trailing clouds and by afternoon the sunshine was making the mountainsides gleam with a thousand streams and waterfalls. The trail had narrowed now to no more than a path, barely wide enough for a single pony and rider; yet it was well-marked and several times they saw large piles of stones, indicating that people had passed this way.
Day after day the path wound on, taking the easiest line over passes and ridges, slanting across the heads of valleys, following level mountain benches under rocky peaks dusted with snow. And always it led west, taking them further and higher into the Holonai range.
Empire: Rodopik
"What d'you think, Dek? Genuine?
"Oh, he's a born liar. But he was telling the truth in here. He was scared shitless when you told him we’re using the Terrechar to clean up the outlaws and he was on the list."
The two men sprawled in their chairs. The younger, his back to the window, had his feet on the large desk on which stood a half empty bottle of fine Mederro brandy. He raised his glass to his grey-haired companion, who sat in the barred shadow of the room.
"Smart of you, Frictus, the Terrechar idea. Everyone’s new nightmare: scare someone with more backbone than Pak. Wish we'd caught this bunch though. Theyn's definitely hot on this one, and that means someone's going to suffer before it's over."
"We still might catch up. You must have over a hundred men on it, and if the little bastard's to be believed, their horses aren't up to much."
The younger man took another sip of his drink, savouring the taste before he let it roll smoothly down his throat: then he shook his head. "No, they're already too far into the Holonai. It's rough country up there, really rough. And I only had one tracker to send out. Three days behind and only one bloody tracker!" He gave a little snort of disgust, then laughed. "No, they're not going to catch them, but I've got to give the impression I'm busting my balls over this. You heard what Theyn did to the captain in For Dendak?"
"Yes, garotting isn't a nice way to go. Not very military either, but then Theyn's not an army man anyway. Wonder how he got the authority to lay his hands on an officer in the Imperial Guard: those boys know how to look after their own. Dettekar's not going to forget this."
The young man shrugged. "Well, Karkor made it an SF operation
and that gives Theyn overall command, even over the Imperial Guard. The official line is that it was treason, but everyone knows it's because the Captain had this bunch cold and let them go."
"It's interesting though." The heavy grey head moved into the light, as he sat forward to make his point. "Something's changing, Dek, I mean changing a lot. I've heard the Governor consults Lexi publicly every week in For Dendak now - he wouldn't have been seen dead talking to Special Forces a year ago. And Theyn: he's always been efficient, better than old Semikarek, but he's bloody uncanny now: you'd think he's working up to something, making a play for…."
"Don't say it, don't even think it, Frictus." The tone was exasperated. "Sparrows tits, man, you know better than to say that aloud."
"We're alone…."
"You'd gamble your head on that? One poor bastard's just been chopped for doing his duty, probably one of the best officers in the Guard, and you're ready to voice real treason! You're in the wrong job, my old friend."
Frictus subsided for a moment, then remarked drily, "You're right. It's a time to be stepping careful. You're going to be unpopular yourself, you know, when you report they got away. How're you going to cover that? Bodies?"
"No, there'd be hell to pay if they turned up alive somewhere else." Delkut laughed again, confidently. "No, I reckon I got out from under, when I suggested we'd drive them in to the mountains and Seph should catch them coming out on the Malefor side. The old windbag'll have the whole of northern Malefor sealed off by now. Theyn said no public fuss, but Seph's an all-or-nothing guy - he'll have called in the army, the customs posts, probably every SF man in Razimir too."
"There's going to be a lot of complaints. There'll be detainees in every valley south of the Holonai and it'll take Pak weeks to ride round and check them all. No one else can identify the buggers for sure. Weeks if the little shit makes the effort, months if he doesn't."
"Oh, he'll push. I didn't just scare his socks off, I offered him an official pardon and treble the original reward too, three thousand imperials."
The Tears of Sisme Page 42
