This was directed to me.
“It will take a minimum of three days for someone to reach Port Oran,” I said. I turned to Gwynedd. “It will be five days for Murmroth, if you want our help.”
“I voted aye,” Gwynedd said levelly.
“How long will it take for your people to reach Guanette?” Malik demanded. When I gaped, he said, “I did not want Misfits with us, but I will obey the decision of the majority.”
I realized the need to obscure that we would be coming from the mountains. “It would take three days for one of our people to come to you there,” I lied in a flat, unfriendly voice. “But you will remember our aid does not come free of obligation, Malik of Guanette.”
“I will keep that in mind,” he agreed so smugly that my mind churned with suspicion.
Brocade gave an exaggerated sigh and said he supposed he could bear having Misfits around if it would flush the maggots from his band, and Vos concurred. I boiled inwardly but only repeated that we would send Misfits to all who desired our aid.
Serba rose and suggested tersely that we proceed to the next matter. I resumed my seat beside Gevan, careful not to let my anger show.
“I would like to go over the first stage of the entire plan one last time,” Serba began.
“Are these Misfits to remain and hear our plans?” Vos interrupted in a voice as thin and hard as his frame.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the rebel woman spoke first. “Fool. How can you keep the Misfits ignorant of the very information they will be passing on for you? Do you blindfold your horse when you would gallop?”
Vos gave her a look of intense malice, but she outstared him, hands on hips, until his eyes dropped. She reminded me very much of Jakoby, and I could not help but admire how smoothly she had assumed control. Malik made no effort to prevent it. He seemed more inclined to jeer and heckle, which might simply be evidence that the dynamics of the rebel struggles had altered radically since the Battlegames. Yet the mocking half smile he wore troubled me. I could easily believe he was up to something, though I could not convince myself that he had kidnapped Rushton. It just didn’t make sense.
“None of them did it, far as I can tell,” Gevan concluded, catching my unshielded thought. “I can’t read Gwynedd, because his mind is naturally shielded, but my instincts rule against it. And your Elii’s mind is too sensitive to meddle with inconspicuously. Other than that, nothing.”
“Malik?”
“He is wearing one of the demon bands, and very pleased it is making him, too. I agree that he’s unlikely to be Rushton’s kidnapper, but he must have something to hide.”
“Probably he’s plotting to take over the Land after the rebellion and doesn’t want us warning Brydda.”
I shook my head fractionally then, for I wanted to listen. Serba was speaking in detail about the rebellion, saying that phase one was to begin after dusk, with each group taking control of the Councilman’s holding and cloister within their area. The cloister cells were to be used to hold prisoners, because these could be secured by only a few guards. If possible, the local populace were to be kept in ignorance of what was happening in their midst. At midnight on the same day, the soldierguard stronghold below the Gelfort Range would be targeted.
“The aim of phase one is to consolidate all the territory this side of the Suggredoon, excepting Sutrium. It would be disastrous for Sutrium to get wind of what is happening, because the soldierguard force in the two camps outside the city is formidable enough to give us trouble, especially if they manage to get messengers over to the west coast. Of course, as agreed, we will not discuss plans about the individual operations each of you has evolved even at this eleventh hour, for security reasons, but it is vital that you contain your areas,” Serba said.
Someone asked what was to be done with the prisoners already in the cloister and Councilcourt cells.
“They will have to be held until after the rebellion, although they should be separated from our prisoners. It is unfortunate, but the last thing we need is to free a brigand chief who will see the opportunity for a bit of looting,” Serba said.
She went on to remind everyone that the soldierguard encampment would be the focus of a two-pronged strategy. First, a diversion organized by Malik would draw the majority of the resident soldierguard force out of the camp and up into the White Valley, where they would be surrounded and taken prisoner.
Malik signaled his desire to speak, and Serba ceded her place to him. “As you know, the problem of creating a diversion has occasioned much discussion. My idea was to use a rumor that Henry Druid’s people have been seen massing in the White Valley to draw the soldierguards into our trap. Some of you have mewed and squeaked in horror at the idea, because it would require human decoys, but no one has come up with a workable alternative. I now propose an alteration that should please the most squeamish pacifists among you.”
There was a murmur as Malik glanced around the barn. “I propose that these Misfits who have offered us aid gather a group of their people in secret outside the soldierguard encampment the night of the rebellion and use their powers to lure the soldierguards out. They can then ride and lead the lot of them into our ambush in the high country.”
I blanched. It seemed Malik would waste no time in putting us in harm’s way.
22
“YOU PROPOSE TO use the Misfits as bait after opposing them as allies?” Serba asked.
“Why not?” Malik said with a bland smile. “I have agreed to honor the majority decision. And no harm would come to them. They can use their powers to slow the soldierguard horses and confuse their riders’ minds. With their aid, the loss of life in the entire operation will be nil. That should please them and the rest of you,” he added with a hint of a sneer. “I don’t care about the soldierguards’ lives, but I will be glad to know that no rebel will die.”
I thought of the ease with which Malik had sacrificed his followers in the Battlegames and doubted he truly cared for anything except winning. I could not fault his argument, though, for it was true that a group consisting of empaths, farseekers, and coercers would be easily capable of leading the soldierguards into a trap.
“The plan is sound,” Elii said slowly. “Zamadi and I are to lead our people to take over the encampment once the majority of soldierguards have gone, but there was always a danger that not enough would ride out to render the place vulnerable. If the Misfits can do as Malik suggests, my people could attack without fear of meeting an impossible force.…”
“I do not like the idea of using anyone as bait,” Dardelan volunteered in a troubled voice.
“Nor do I,” Elii said. “But someone must do the decoying, because our whole strategy depends on taking that camp. If we fail, we will have a war at our front and rear, and the rebellion will drag on for months with no certainty of victory. Given the Misfits’ abilities, it seems to me that Malik is right in saying they would be in less danger than anyone else.”
“This is not fitting,” Gwynedd said.
“Why?” Malik asked with a cold smile for the Norselander.
Gwynedd rose and said with quiet dignity, “It is not meet that we should discuss the merits of this idea until the Misfits have been asked if they will do it. They are not servants but free participants and allies.”
“Truespoken,” Serba said. “What say you to Malik’s proposal?”
Gevan and I conferred.
“Why not agree?” the Coercer guildmaster sent. “We can do this without violating our oath and with as little risk as that bastard Malik says. Think of it—if we do this and find their traitors, the rebels will have trouble discharging their debt to us in any way other than to give us the right to live in freedom in the Land. They have said outright that their entire strategy could fall if this phase fails.”
“I don’t trust Malik, but I think you are right,” I sent.
I told Serba that we were willing to decoy the soldierguards as proposed. “But I want Malik’s word that the
soldierguards will not be summarily slaughtered once we have brought them to him.”
Malik smiled. “My oath on it, Misfit. Not one rebel I command will be permitted to harm any soldierguard.”
Instead of feeling reassured, my misgivings redoubled. “What penalty would there be for breaking such an oath?” I asked Serba.
“Death or exile from the Land,” she answered promptly. “That is the fate of any traitor who would break a sworn oath to an ally.”
“Do you allow this Misfit to insult Malik by implying he will not keep his word to her?” Vos snarled, springing to his feet.
“Since this Misfit has all but agreed to risk her people in Malik’s plan, though he makes his loathing of them insultingly apparent, I cannot blame her for wanting his sworn word and our surety that he will abide by it. I think it wise rather than insulting,” Serba observed. She turned to me, and I was gratified to see respect in her deep-set eyes. “We will accept your aid in this matter with gratitude, of course, but I will leave it to you and Malik to sort out the finer details privately, as is our policy these days.”
“My people will make their own plans and execute them,” I said, looking past her into Malik’s stone-gray eyes. “All we need to know from Malik is where and when the rebels will be waiting in ambush.”
“I will show those of your Misfits that join me in Guanette,” Malik countered.
“I don’t trust him, but I can’t see that he will dare break this oath,” Gevan sent. “Maybe we should ask outright why he wears the demon band.”
“If I raise the subject, it will mean admitting we tried to probe him without his permission. And worse, it will let him know that the wretched things work. I would rather say nothing and force him to wonder. But I would like to get hold of one for Garth to examine.”
“If we send an empath to Guanette, we should be able to confound Malik into thinking the band is useless,” Gevan suggested.
Serba was continuing the rebellion strategy, and I listened with interest as she reminded everyone that after the soldierguard camp had been secured, all able to be spared would ride to Sutrium for phase two of the plan. Once these rebels had joined Dardelan’s groups throughout the city, a simultaneous attack would be made on the main Herder cloister, the two soldierguard encampments, the Councilcourt, and the holdings of Radost, Jitra, and Mord, preventing the possibility of any group aiding another. This was to be accomplished with as little noise and bloodshed as possible, thereby keeping the general populace unaware of what was going on. Serba would have some of her people from Port Oran watching the ferry port to ensure no one slipped away to warn the west coast Councilmen.
If all went according to plan, Sutrium would be in rebel hands by dawn. But Serba admitted frankly that the Sutrium phase of the plan was most likely to go awry.
“The possibility that someone will sound an alarm is a real danger, though with Misfit aid, getting the timing right—our other main concern—will no longer be a problem.”
“I would like to remind everyone that the Councilmen and soldierguards we take prisoner are not to be harmed,” Elii said firmly. “No bruised or broken noses. Nothing. We want them fit for their public trials so that we can demonstrate the difference between our justice and theirs.”
“What of their families and children?” Dardelan asked.
“I’m afraid they must be taken prisoner, too,” Serba said. “I don’t like the idea of it, but what else can we do? Children are better with their parents, in any case, and it won’t be for long.”
“What about keeping wives and children together somewhere other than the cloisters?” suggested Tilda, the effeminate young man who represented Yavok.
“I’d prefer that, but it might not be possible the first night,” Serba said. “Not when speed is so vital. Better the children get a fright than be dragged into a bloody battle that rages for months.”
Dardelan spoke then, explaining the measures he had devised to keep a lid on Sutrium so that the third phase of their plans could proceed smoothly. Once the city was under control, rebels would occupy all soldierguard posts, clad in their telltale yellow cloaks. Notices would be posted throughout the town warning that someone suspected of suffering from the plague had entered the town and advising people to remain indoors until the cloister bell was sounded, signaling that the culprit was in custody. It was a clever idea, and with luck, the notices would drive people to cower in their homes.
“Phase three will begin after nightfall the next day,” Serba said. “We will go over that again in Sutrium in detail, but for now, you know we will be taking one city each night by attacking from outside while the town’s own rebels move from within. Morganna is almost as big as Sutrium, but we will have a considerable combined force at our disposal by the time we get there, and hopefully we will still have the element of surprise on our side.”
She paused, her eyes sweeping the room sternly. “Up until tonight, no one but the rebel leaders and a few trusted confederates have been privy to these plans, and we have circulated misinformation among our own people as a way of thwarting the traitors in our midst. We have no choice but to let at least a portion of our true plans be known now. This is our greatest danger, yet with the Misfits’ help, that danger will not trouble us for too much longer. Just the same, I suggest each rebel leader delay speaking of these plans in detail until the Misfits assigned to him or her have arrived. Anyone may refuse to have the Misfits penetrate their minds, but I suggest those who do be given no vital information.”
Something made me glance at Malik. I found him staring at me, his masklike face giving no clue of his thoughts. I kept my own expression bland and was pleased to see a ripple of doubt cross his hard features.
“Elspeth?” Serba said. I stared at her blankly until Gevan sent sharply that she had asked me if Misfits could speak to one another from one part of the Land to another.
“Our mental reach is limited, and some of us have a shorter reach than others, just as some among your rebels are stronger physically than others. With enough of us spread throughout the Land, we should be able to efficiently relay messages. But our abilities do not work over tainted areas like the water and the banks of the lower Suggredoon, or over very large physical barriers like the Gelfort Range. Also, heavy rain or storms make it harder for us to make contact with one another.”
“If you cannot send your mind across the Suggredoon, then perhaps we could have one Misfit on either side,” Cassell suggested. “They could take turns crossing by ferry at regular intervals to exchange news.”
“What of Herder and Norse Isles?” I asked.
“We have not included them in our immediate plans. Ultimately, we mean to offer the priests exile on their island if they prefer it to being defrocked, but first we will have to take it over to release anyone who wishes to leave,” Serba said. “That will require boats and will be the fourth phase of our plan, along with the taking of Norseland.” Her eyes flickered to Gwynedd, who had stiffened slightly at the mention of his birthplace.
“Can we finally set the day?” Malik asked loudly.
“I believe we should make our move one sevenday from today,” Serba said decisively, and the others nodded.
“That will give the Misfits time to join our groups,” Elii approved.
“A good night for secrecy,” Zamadi added. “The moon will be a mere sliver in a sevenday.”
“Very well, then, in a sevenday from now, the rebellion will begin,” Serba announced. “Speak of this date to no one outside this room, for all of our sakes. I have no doubt the traitors among us wait for just this information. Now, I suggest we finish this meeting. The time for action looms.”
“Truespoken,” Elii said, standing immediately. “If all goes as we have planned, we will meet again in Sutrium when it belongs to us.”
There was a murmur of approval tinged with excitement, and people began to leave, slipping out at staggered intervals. Malik and his cronies departed first, with Brocade asking
Brydda to ensure the door was closed after everyone had gone.
I thanked Dardelan for defending the Misfits’ honor. “You are beginning to make a habit of it,” I said.
“Malik is a disgusting man,” he answered. “He has no scruples, and I am more than glad the Battlegames showed him for what he is. It will be purely thanks to your people that this rebellion will not become a slaughter. I truly feared it, especially when it looked as if Malik would become our leader.”
“I just hope that whatever help we give will be remembered afterward,” Gevan said.
“It will,” Dardelan promised. “But we have not met yet. I am Dardelan, son of Bodera, rebel chief of Sutrium.”
“I am Gevan,” the Coercer guildmaster said, standing to bow formally. “I have heard much of you and your father.”
Serba interrupted to bid us farewell, and when she departed, Gwynedd, Cassell, and Yavok’s proxy, Tilda, went with her. Whatever their inner struggles, it seemed that the west coast rebels were far more united than those in the rest of the Land.
As Brydda secured the barn, he told Dardelan he would collect Sallah and meet him at the crossroads on the other side of town. Then Brydda, Gevan, and I walked back to the gypsy encampment together.
“You found nothing,” the big rebel said as we picked our way over a shadowy wheat field with the wind in our faces.
“Nothing in those we were able to probe,” Gevan admitted. “We could not touch Elii’s mind or Gwynedd’s, and Malik was unreachable because he wore one of those demon bands the Herders have been selling.”
Brydda gave him a startled look. “These bands block your powers?”
“Unfortunately. Though, given our lack of reaction during the meeting, I bet Malik is wondering now if they work or not.”
“Do you suspect him of the kidnapping because he wears the band?”
The Rebellion Page 67
