Ceirwan was preparing an evening meal when we rode up. Before long, we were all eating and talking about the coming night, the horses clustered nearby grazing and communing with the beastspeakers. Miryum and her coercer-knights had arrived, the guilden said, but they had ridden out almost at once to station themselves close to the soldierguard encampment. Miryum wanted to scry out its inhabitants and gain a working knowledge of the daily operation of the establishment. Only then had they carefully constructed, within the minds of key figures within the camp, the illusion that a small band of soldierguards had taken Henry Druid prisoner in a brilliant coup. The soldierguard captains believed a daring rescue attempt would be made by some of the Druid’s men. They had been convinced coercively that this escape must be allowed so that the soldierguards could learn the whereabouts of the Druid’s secret camp in the high mountains.
It was a meshing of rumors set in motion by Malik’s people and pure coerced illusion, and it played hard upon the ambition of the head soldierguard to become a Councilman. He reasoned that capture of the notorious Henry Druid would make him famous, but the taking of him and all his followers would be a success so spectacular as to make it impossible for the Council to refuse to make him one of them. Whether or not this was true, he believed it, thanks to Miryum’s manipulations. The main problem was convincing the soldierguards that they had Henry Druid in a cell within the camp. The capture and all else could be built of implanted memories, but Miryum had had to create a physical illusion of Henry Druid in the minds of anyone who looked into the cell where he was supposedly being held. For this reason, she had made the soldierguard captains decide to keep their infamous prisoner a secret from the majority of their people for the sake of security. This ensured that only the few entrusted to guard the empty cell would need to be constantly coerced into seeing what did not exist.
The part the rest of us were to play was ludicrously simple. At some point around midnight, upon a signal from Miryum, we were to erupt from concealment in the forest nearby the encampment and ride wildly up into the high country. Miryum and her team would ensure the soldierguard force followed us.
Since they could not coerce all the soldierguards individually and constantly, the knights intended to focus on the leaders, both formal and informal. Being soldierguards, the majority would obey their superiors without question, but because there were always men and women who were less slavishly obedient, the coercers had spent a lot of energy locating them and tampering with their minds as well. It was a plan that relied less on brilliant mental strategy and subtlety than on the sheer ability of Miryum and her coercers to control minds. It struck me rather as one of the card houses that moon-fair conjurers liked to construct, but I trusted Miryum’s abilities and her determination. Those, at least, were no illusion.
“They’ll be so full of the hunger to win glory an’ a fat coin bonus that they won’t wonder why we would allow ourselves to be followed back to our secret camp,” Ceirwan said.
“Bonus?” I echoed blankly.
“Miryum means to plant th’ notion at th’ last minute that there is a large reward fer each armsman’s brought in,” the guilden explained. “Greed really is a good emotion to work on, because it almost entirely overcomes the ability to think clearly.”
“Making sure their greed does not find a target will take a terrific lot of energy. We won’t be able to stop them shooting at us forever,” Angina warned.
“We won’t need to,” one of the beastspeakers said eagerly. “We’ll be out of their reach for most of the ride, and once we get them to the ambush point, their minds will be on other things.”
Ceirwan stiffened and looked at me. “It’s Wila, Elspeth. She’s ready to link ye to th’ others.”
I nodded, and we moved a little aside from the fire as Aras arranged her team into a simple merge. When Ceirwan had established contact with Wila, the young ward connected the two merges with her own probe. I waited until they were all securely engaged, then sent my probe smoothly along the path to Wila.
“You are so clear!” the older farseeker exclaimed in a startled mindvoice. “It’s like someone is pouring energy into me.”
“That’s exactly what’s happening, but let’s not waste any time just now on explanations. Can you try linking with Khuria?”
The connection was established, and as with Wila, Khuria’s surprise shivered it dangerously, but he quickly collected himself. I asked him how matters were proceeding in Saithwold. He explained that Vos had decided to secure Councilman Noviny’s holding before taking over the cloister.
“I was there last night, scrying to see if there was any sort of alert,” Khuria sent. “It seemed a very peaceful place to me. The servants and bondservants and even the animals are content with their master. I had a brief look into Noviny’s mind, and to tell you the truth, I like him somewhat better than Vos.”
“He is a better man, by all accounts, and that’s all the more reason to make sure no one gets hurt. You might remind Vos that he will have trouble afterward if he hurts someone as well liked as Noviny.”
Khuria agreed. “I have been in touch with Zarak, by the way,” he added. “He wants to speak with you. Maybe you can try going through me?”
The merge felt strong and stable with Aras’s input, so I concurred. I felt him link with Zarak, and at once the Farseeker ward responded. “I’m glad to hear from you,” he sent.
“It’s an amazing thing that you and Aras have done,” I sent. “I hear you’ve scried out no traitors in Sutrium?”
“Not a one so far, though a few of Bodera’s people seem to have considered pulling out from time to time, and a number of them are secretly in favor of Malik’s hard line. But I suspect you’d find a few of Malik’s people preferring Bodera’s ideas, too. I told Brydda, but he said that other than outright traitors, he was not interested in knowing people’s doubts. He said they have a right to doubt and question in the privacy of their own minds. He wanted me to tell him who is most firm in their support of Bodera and who is most trustworthy and faithful. They’re the only ones he’s told the whole plan.”
“He was ever a canny man,” I sent in admiration. “You’ve been in contact with the west?”
“I have, and everyone’s in place. The teknoguilders have found all sorts of subterranean tunnels. It seems like what you see aboveground is only the tip of the city. Anyway, the good thing is that they haven’t had to set up on the surface, so there’s almost no chance of their being spotted. Dragon’s illusions all that time ago still keep folk from poking around.”
I thought of Dragon with a stab of pain and wondered if it would not have been better if she were still there now, rather than comatose in the Healer hall.
Zarak went on. “The only problem is that someone always has to be aboveground in case anyone tries to reach them. Oh, they said Dell has been dreaming of treachery, but she doesn’t know to whom or what.”
“Helpful,” I sent tersely.
“She said she’s trying her best.”
“I know, but it is frustrating to be given such vague warnings.”
“Dell said to say this is specifically to do with the west coast. She dreamed of treachery when she was at Obernewtyn, like a lot of the other futuretellers, but she says that it’s different here. She thinks it is another matter entirely.”
“Treachery on two fronts. That is troubling, but I suppose given the number of people involved in this rebellion, it’s not surprising. Speaking of which, did any of the west coast people scry out traitors?”
“One or two apparently, but no one really important. They don’t account for the kind of information that was leaked out. Some of us are starting to think that, without a highly placed traitor, the only way the Council can have got hold of some of the things they know was to have had a Misfit working for them.”
I felt my mouth drop open. “A Misfit traitor?”
“I hate to think any of our sort would help our enemies, but it makes a sort of sense.”
Little as I liked contemplating it, he was right.
“I told Brydda, and he’s going to try to get some of those demon bands for his key men and women to wear, just in case. But if the Council already know what we’ve got brewing for tonight, there’ll be no helping us.”
“I doubt they know that,” I sent. “Not one of the futuretellers has foreseen the rebellion failing.”
“Truespoken. Anyway, Radost doesn’t know the rebellion begins tonight. He has a demon band, but he doesn’t really believe in it, so he doesn’t always keep it on or properly fastened. He knows the rebels plan to rise soon, but he has no idea when.”
I frowned. “Maybe we should try backtracking the source of the information he does have.”
“We’ve tried, but it didn’t make sense. Some of the information that ruined one rebel operation supposedly came to Radost from Kana of Halfmoon Bay, who supposedly got it from Rorah of Morganna. But when I checked with the farseekers there, both Rorah and Kana think the same information came from Radost. It’s as if whoever is feeding them intelligence wants to stay hidden.”
“Maybe it’s the Herders,” I mused. “Far more likely they’d be using a Misfit, given their interest in them, and this sly secrecy smells like them, too. And they must be worried about what will happen to them if the Land falls from Council hands.”
“Speaking of the Faction, today I tried scrying out the Sutrium cloister to discover something about this ceremony they have been having. The walls around it seem to be tainted like those demon bands, so it’s impossible to farseek through them. But at midday there was a huge parade as the priests escorted some important visitors from Herder Isle back to the ships. I managed to get into the minds of some priests, but anyone with rank was wearing one of those demon bands.”
“Hmph. Did you get any idea what the ceremony is for?”
“It’s their annual banding ceremony. Brydda says they don’t usually draw so many priests from all over the Land, and normally only one of the inner cadre comes from Herder Isle to officiate. He reckons it’s bigger because someone has been promoted to the inner cadre. That only happens when someone dies and his place becomes vacant.”
“You didn’t get any inkling that they know what is brewing among the rebels?”
“Everyone I probed was thinking only of who had been raised a band and who had been demoted.”
“If Brydda’s not bothered, I guess that’s good enough,” I sent. “Tell him I will farsend as soon as the decoy operation is complete. Ceirwan will stay here with Freya so that I can go through him to reach you in Sutrium.”
“I’ll be ready,” Zarak sent.
Thanking Khuria, I withdrew gently to Wila, asking her how matters stood with Brocade’s people.
“Pretty much the same as the others. Brocade means to take Jude’s and Alum’s holdings before he tackles the cloister. We’ll move on the two farms after dark, because they’ll be relaxing and unlikely to leap up and start waving a knife or bludgeon around.”
“I’m gratified to hear that Brocade is trying to avoid blood,” I sent.
“Don’t be. He just doesn’t want to risk his own neck. He’s a coward, and he’d much rather run things from a pile of cushions in his own holding, but he can see that he has to make some sort of masterly display if he wants to be taken seriously as a leader.”
“You seem to have matters well in hand. Can you link with Tomash?”
Mindful of her fatigue, I did not communicate longer than necessary to assure myself that Tomash and the other two sent to Kinraide had been well received by Elii. Unlike most of the rebels, he treated the Misfits assigned to him as trusted allies rather than loathed tools. Elii had mustered his own people, and as soon as it grew dark enough, they intended to make their way up to the Weirwood. There they would rendezvous with the Berrioc group to storm the soldierguard encampment after we had lured the majority of its forces away.
By the time Malik rode down with the soldierguards as his prisoners, the barracks should have been transformed into a prison, which some of Elii’s people would oversee until the rebellion ended.
I broke contact first with Tomash and then with Wila, to the older woman’s clear relief.
“She is doing well considering she finds it hard to hold a dual link,” Aras said as I came back to myself.
The ward dismissed her own now weary team with lavish praise, and they went off at her behest to eat and rest. I ate a bit of bread and cheese smeared with a tart chutney Katlyn had sent; then Ceirwan suggested sensibly that we all try to get some sleep, given that we were unlikely to get much of a break once everything began.
I felt too overwrought to sleep, and it was still too light, but I lay down on a blanket anyway and pulled my coat over me. The sooner the rebellion was under way, the sooner I could devote myself entirely to finding Rushton.
Thinking of him filled me with a bitter loneliness, for despite Maryon’s certainty that Rushton lived, not once had she mentioned seeing him return.
25
I DROWSED AS the daylight faded, memories of Rushton, Dragon, Dameon, and Matthew mingling until they became muddled together in my head. I must have drifted off, for when Ceirwan shook me, I sat up in startled fright.
“I’m sorry, but I thought ye would want to know: Duria farsent that Malik an’ his people are musterin’ fer th’ ride to th’ White Valley.” The guilden was carrying a small lantern, for it was now full dark. His pupils in its light were huge with excitement or fear, or maybe some of both.
Despite my surety that nothing much could go wrong, I felt a sick sort of agitation course through my veins at the knowledge that, for better or worse, the rebellion had begun.
“I presume they took over the cloisters in Darthnor and Guanette without any difficulty,” I said huskily.
“Duria said it were less trouble than their fondest hope, because th’ cloisters were both empty.”
I stopped in the midst of pulling on a boot and stared up at the guilden in astonishment. “How do you mean, empty?”
“I mean empty as in abandoned. Every one of the priests an’ all their underlings had gone down to some ceremony in Sutrium, apparently. There were only a couple of half-witted servants left behind. And it was almost as smooth fer th’ rebels to take over th’ Councilmen’s holdings, because thanks to Gevan an’ Duria, they were able to time th’ attacks fer when th’ households were in th’ middle of nightmeal. I guess we can be sure Radost knows nothin’ of what is comin’, else he would have let his sons know to be alert.”
“Maybe,” I murmured, thinking that Radost was the sort who would jettison his sons in a moment if it suited him. “What of Bergold’s sister?”
“She was out on some errand when they took th’ holdin’. One rebel has been left in waitin’ to take her when she returns to her brother’s house.”
“She went on an errand that would keep her away an entire night?”
“Bergold claims his sister is nowt given to explainin’ herself, but she often visits th’ sick. Apparently, some woman living out a way from th’ town was near to givin’ birth.”
Dismissing thoughts of Radost’s enigmatic daughter, I asked if there had been any injuries.
“Nowt other than th’ odd scraped knee or banged elbow, an’ them from stumblin’ round in th’ dark rather than from fightin’. Duria said Malik an’ Lydi are crowin’ with delight an’ brimming with confidence, for they see their success as an omen for th’ rebellion.”
Ceirwan looked so delighted himself that I kept my misgivings to myself and finished donning my boots and coat. It was chilly and the air smelled damp. Wrapping a scarf about my throat, I went over to the fire where a few of the others stood about looking wide-eyed and edgy. The rest were still sleeping in the tents or wrapped up in their blankets. Freya handed me a mug of something hot, and though it tasted bitter, it warmed me. Sitting on an upended log, I stared into the fire and farsought Wila.
“Alum’s holding fell
easily enough, but there has been some fighting at Jude’s place and it’s not over yet,” she reported.
“Two of the rebels have been killed and one of Jude’s people, though that was more an accident than anything. I don’t think it will be too much longer before the rebels round them up.”
“Just so long as no one gets out to give the alarm in Sutrium,” I said, thinking morosely that the three dead were unlikely to be the last. “What of the cloister?”
“Now there’s an odd thing,” Wila sent. “There was not a soul inside other than two beaten prisoners locked in cells. One was unable to speak, and the other had only just been taken and knew nothing more than that he had been left days without food or water. He thought it was part of their torture, poor devil. We were expecting that at least a few priests would have been left behind, but I suppose the whole order went off to this ceremony in Sutrium without caring if their prisoners lived or died while they were away.” She sounded disgusted.
I wondered if the priests would leave their cloister completely uninhabited, unless they had no intention of returning to it. “Can you link with Khuria?”
“I will, but I might have to cut you off suddenly, for Brocade is on the verge of having us ride down to Sutrium.”
This reminded me that we would be completely cut off from the rest of the Land after Wila rode out.
“Truespoken,” Wila sent, catching my thoughts. “I wish I could say I’d stay behind to act as a relay, but Brocade insists we ride with him. He says it’s our duty, and I feel that since we’ve given our word to stay with his group, he’s right.” When I made no further response, Wila sent out a probe for Khuria, but to her surprise, it would not locate.
The Rebellion Page 71
