"Those lizards," said Benjar, "are they poisonous?"
"Nah," said Sauk. "But you'll feel their claws and teeth if one gets on you. But they're just lizards. If one gets you, just grab and squeeze."
"It's the spiders we need to be worried about," said Merzan.
"Spiders?" said Hama.
"This is the Khopet-Dag," said Merzan. "The Spider Yaxmx. Peaks. You and Kerlis nearly wet yourselves all day worrying about them on the trail."
"You said most of them weren't dangerous."
"Most," said Sauk. "We're nearer the mountains now. The big ones don't usually come down this far. And the smaller ones-the rain will drive them into their holes. Don't worry about the spiders."
"But what if we run into one of the dangerous ones?" said Benjar.
"Damn it," said Sauk. "Did you see a single spider all day that you couldn't squash with your heel? No? You see a spider you don't like? Kill it. Spiders aren't bees or flies. They don't swarm."
Berun found what he was looking for near the top of the hill-a small swath of forest where seedlings no more than a season or two old were growing in the remains of an ancient tree. The old tree had fallen several seasons ago and gone to rot. Softened by melting frost and spring rains, it was now a hive of thousands of spiders. The treeclaw lizards preferred the fertile valleys between the hills where water was more plentiful, so the many spiders that made this part of the wood their home laid their eggs along the hilltops, and rotted logs were a favorite haunt.
It was late enough in the year that most of the egg sacs had hatched, but early enough that most of the spiderlings were still lurking in the immediate area. They'd had at least a couple of tendays to feast on flies, moths, and the young fangflies newly hatched from the thick mud along the valley streams. They'd grown nice and fat, and their fangs were full of new venom. But they were still growing and hungry. Ravenous, in fact. Still, there were not enough of them to suit Berun's purpose. Not here. But if his scheme went as planned, more would gather from the surrounding hills and valleys as his spell surged.
Berun settled himself near the base of the old log. He could smell the rot, thick and musky even in the strong rain-scented breeze. In his trek up the hill he'd barreled through a fair number of spider webs, and the tiny fibers fluttered about him like wisps of down, tickling his skin.
Perch, rummaging inside the log, swallowed the last of a spiderling he'd happened across. Running through the wood, Berun had opened the link he and Perch shared, tearing it wide, opening himself to the mind of the little lizard. He could feel the lizard's metabolism quickening, already growing a new tail, needing nourishment, and his friend was hungry. The dozens of spiders hiding in the crevices of the old log were too much temptation to ignore. The incessant messages of fight-fight-fight that had whispered along the link Berun shared with the lizard had changed to hunt-hunt-hungry-hungry-SPIDER!
Berun closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sent a feeling of urgency, of need, to Perch. Hunt spiders later. Time to fight. Now, Perch.
Fight-fight? Perch stopped in his attempt to chase a young spider out of a moist crevice where the log met the ground.
Fight, yes, Berun answered. Fight now. The tiger. Find the tiger.
Wariness and a tingle of fear wafted into Berun's mind. Fight… tiger?
Anger the tiger, said Berun. Make her growling-mad-then lead her away. Faraway. Understand?
Growling-mad tiger means eating scared-me. Perch emerged from the log. Berun could feel his little friend watching him, though it was too dark to see him.
You are fast, Berun told him. In-the-shadows in-the-tight-places fast. Get the tiger chasing-you-mad, then run-run-run.
Chasing-me-mad run-run-run. Perch hissed and chattered. Fun-fun fight-chase-run-fun!
Go, my friend.
Perch ran, unseen in the dark and unheard under the storm-swaying trees. In moments, he was gone. Berun relaxed his mind, seeking the rhythm of the storm, of the wood, of the world around him. In the gusts of wind, the wisps of spider web tickled his skin.
"Now," said Berun. "Now, Sauk. Here it comes. You should've stayed in your mountain."
He began his chant.
The tiger crouched a prudent distance from the camp. Her heart-brother had warned her about the lizards, biters and scratchers who hid in the trees. The little nuisance earlier today had angered her, but her coat was far too thick for such a creature's claws to be a real threat. No. The real threat was that the beasts would warn their masters below, and that would displease Taaki's heart-brother. So she kept to the thick brush, becoming a part of the darkness itself. She couldn't even see the distant twinkling of the campfire, but the smell of their fire was thick in her nostrils. She knew exactly where they were. At the signal from her heart-brother, she would roar to put fear in her prey then rush down the slope, making less sound than the wind in the trees.
Something rustled to her right, a furtive movement over the old leaves and twigs that littered the forest floor. Every part of the tiger went still as stone, save for her ears, which pivoted toward the sound.
The sky above the forest flashed, painting the wood in sharp contrasts of light and shadow, and thunder followed a moment later. The storm was close now, the scent of rain heavy on the wind. The last of the thunder faded, first from the ground, then the air as it rebounded off the mountain. Only the wind through the leaves and branches made any sound There.
Again, something skittered through the brush, but it was closer now. Very close.
A rumble gathered deep in the tiger's chest, and the skittering sound stopped.
The tiger waited.
A sharp patter joined the hissing of the leaves and creak of branches, but it was only the first drops of rain.
Soon… Her heart-brother, warning her.
Leaves rustled nearby, stopped, and the tiger heard a small hiss.
A lizard.
The tiger knew it, and the knowledge sang through the link she shared with her heart-brother. Kill it!
The tiger lunged.
Hama sat, his legs crossed under him and his back against a tree. He dared go no closer, not if the yaqubi had who-knew-how-many of those little lizards lurking in the trees. He was close enough that he could charge the camp quick enough.
The first drops of rain, fat and falling hard, began striking the forest canopy. The leaves provided a barrier-so far-but they struck with enough force to be heard over the wind.
Any time, now.
Hama rose to a crouch and drew his knife.
The patter of the rain came stronger, and drops began to reach the ground. Something about the drops sounded… wrong. Just off slightly. The wind had been skittering through the leaves all evening, but Hama swore the sound had changed, just slightly.
As Hama stepped round the bole of the tree, something struck his hand. He ignored it, thinking it was only a raindrop, but when another struck his forehead, he brushed it aside.
Something bit his finger, and he hissed. Reflex took over. He flapped his hand and in half a heartbeat, felt tiny legs lose contact with his skin.
Lightning flashed over the mountain. In the flicker, Hama could see the wind-tossed boughs, stirred by the storm. But he'd been wrong about the raindrops. The rain had not yet come. Other things were dropping from the trees. Some were no larger than his thumbnail, but some were larger than his hand. A hundred or more shadows moved along the forest floor-moved against the wind. The nearest were only a few feet away.
Hama looked up. The last of the lightning died, and in the instant before complete darkness surrounded him, Hama saw dozens of spiders crawling around the tree. Crawling right for him.
Thunder shook the ground as the first of the spiders crawled over his boots.
Hama turned to run, but on the dark hillside his haste betrayed him. Three steps and his feet went out from under him. He fell into a bush thick with new spring leaves. His heart hammered in his chest, and his breath was coming in quick gasps. In the brush
he could not tell the difference between the leaves, branches, and hundreds of tiny legs crawling over him.
Hama screamed.?
Sauk heard the first wave of rain washing over the valley. Fitful at first, it gained strength with each gust of wind.
Most of his attention was fixed on the tiny glow of campfire twinkling in the valley below him, but a small sliver of his mind was with the tiger-every beat of her heart, every breath and careful, considered movement. He could not see what she saw or hear what she heard, but his mind registered her reactions to sight, sound, even smell.
Lightning lit the mountain along the western sky. Thunder followed, and with it came the torrent, like a wave washing over a shore.
He told the tiger, Soon…
Lizard!'It came through not in a word, but in the awareness that one of the little creatures had found her. Kill it! he told the tiger.
He felt her lunge. Then a scream-a man's scream, but not on the opposite hillside where Taaki waited. This came from off to Sauk's right. A shriek of utter terror.
"Damn!"
Sauk would kill whoever it was. Break his neck with his bare hands. Hama, by the sound of it. The fool had just ruined their element of surprise. The yaqubi were a skittish lot, and they might well be gone before the assassins even hit the valley.
The rain came harder, rattling the leaves overhead, but Sauk's sharp ears caught something else. Even over the sound of the wind-tossed trees and falling rain, Sauk heard a skittering like… tiny feet. Or claws. Hundreds of them.
Sauk turned his back on the valley and looked up the hillside. His half-orc eyes could see far better in the dark than any human's. He could see the forest floor moving.
Lightning cracked the sky over the valley, and in the sudden harsh light Sauk saw that he was about to be overtaken by a tide of hundreds-hundreds of thousands-of spiders.
"Damn you, Berun," he said. "Damn you, you clever-"
And then the spiders were on him.
The storm washed over the foothills of the Khopet-Dag. Wind and rain pummeled the forest while lightning lashed from cloud to cloud overhead, and thunder followed all. The thick canopy of the forest caught the rain and funneled it downward in thousands of tiny waterfalls so that by the time the fury of the storm had passed, and the rain settled in for a long, steady deluge, all the forest floor was a muddy, sodden mess.
It took Berun longer than he'd hoped to find Sauk. The little starstone he held gave off only a faint glow, and the storm had washed away any sign of the half-orc's trail. If only Perch could keep the tiger busy a little longer, this just might work.
Sauk lay in the mud at the bole of a tree. The spiders were gone. The effects of Berun's spell were long spent, and the spiders had either drowned or taken refuge from the storm wherever they could find it.
The half-orc was doubled over and shivering. The tree's thick, waxy leaves kept the worst of the rain off him. In the dim silver glow of his starstone, Berun could see dozens of swollen bites across Sauk's exposed skin. His eyes were squeezed shut, and tiny convulsions rippled through his muscles.
Berun touched Sauk's temple with the back of his hand. The half-orc burned with fever. At the touch, Sauk's eyes fluttered open. He tried to snarl, but it turned into a tooth-chattering grimace.
"D-d-damn you," Sauk rasped.
"Damn me later," said Berun. "Right now, I only want what's mine."
He opened the pouch at Sauk's belt and rummaged through it. It wasn't there.
"Where is it, Sauk?"
"Puh-p-piss on you." Sauk grimaced and doubled over further as a stronger convulsion hit him.
"Don't worry," said Berun. "The venom from most of those spiders isn't fatal. Not even from so many. Not for a big, strong hunter like you. Now where is it?"
Berun set the starstone on the ground, grabbed the collar of Sauk's tunic, and ripped. Several necklaces hung round the half-orc's neck. Some bore symbols of his faith, others were trophies of past kills, and the brass chain seemed plain jewelry. But around one particularly fine leather thong was what Berun was searching for: Erael'len.
Sauk tried to bat Berun's hands away, but he was fever weak, and Berun ignored him. He eased Sauk's head up, pulled off the necklace, dropped it over his own head, and tucked the talisman under his shirt.
"Th-this is-s-sn't… over," said Sauk.
"I know," said Berun. "Listen to me, Sauk. Your plan is too risky. If you think you can sneak me in under the Old Man's nose, you've grown soft. He's using you to get to me. You're only going to get us all killed. If it were just me, I might let you try, but I won't let you pull the boy into this. I'll help. My way. But only after I see Lewan safely away."
Sauk growled something unintelligible.
"Leave the boy out of this," said Berun. "Let me handle this my way. I'll get my master out of the Fortress and take care of the Old Man. My way. But if you come at the boy again, Sauk, I swear I'll kill you."
"Muh-m-m-" Sauk gasped, then said, "Mai karash! Oath breaker!"
Berun retrieved his starstone and looked down on the half-orc who had once been his closest friend. Lightning flashed, painting the half-orc's face in sharp contrast.
"Kheil swore brotherhood to you until death," Berun said. "He kept his oath. I owe you nothing."
Thunder shook the world around them, and before it faded, Berun left the half-orc lying in the mud.
Chapter Eleven
Lewan laid his hand against the bole of the tree, dead from a lightning strike in a long-ago storm. His hand trembled like an old man's.
It had taken him much longer to find the tree than he'd hoped. Running at night, through the storm, even with the small starstone to light his way, Lewan had been forced to go the long way round the hill. The way he and his master usually took up the southwestern face had been far too slick-mud running down in tiny rivulets over the slick rocks. Desperate to be away from the assassins, he'd tried two different ascents and fallen both times. The second time, a broken branch had opened a wicked gash along his right arm, almost from wrist to elbow, and he'd bled most of the way to the tree.
The pain, the blood loss, the wet, and the miles-long run through rough country had left him more weary than he could ever remember being. He was soaked down to his smallclothes, and moving had been the only thing keeping him warm. No help for it. Even if he could find dry kindling in this mess, lighting a fire on a hilltop would be beyond foolish. He'd simply suffer through the storm. Once the rain stopped, he'd don his dry clothes.
Lewan turned away from the tree and opened his left palm to allow the blue-silver light from the starstone to give him a better view of his surroundings. The lightning strike that had killed the tree had also started a fire, and most of the brush around the tree was stunted and no more than a few seasons old. To get out of the rain, he'd have to go back into the forest.
It didn't take him long to find a suitable spot-an old pine that had fallen under its own weight in ages past. It hadn't made it all the way to the ground but lodged in a tight grove of aspens, and the aspens had continued to grow, unperturbed by the old cousin who had fallen into their midst. Through season after season the dead pine gathered more and more deadfall, leaves, mud, and the dwellings of various forest creatures. It formed a sort of roof. Once Lewan had cleared out several years' worth of dead leaves and pine needles, he had a nice hollowed-out spot that, while not exactly dry, was at least not sodden. There he settled in to wait.
Down the hillside several dozen yards into the forest, he could no longer see the lightning-blasted tree, but he knew his master would come. If he didn't find Lewan right away, he'd look around, even call out if he'd managed to fend off pursuit. Right now, Lewan needed rest.
He dampened the light of the starstone, huddled into his cloak, and lay down. Exhaustion claimed him, and he was asleep in moments.
Cold woke him. With his body no longer on the move, the chill had settled into his sodden clothes. His body was shivering, his teeth chattering.
>
Lewan sat up and gasped at the sudden pain that flashed along his arm. He could no longer feel his right hand, and the arm throbbed. Whether it was from the cold or from infection trying to settle in, he'd have to do something about it soon.
He grabbed the starstone with his left hand and rubbed it between thumb and fingers, stirring the light back to life. He peeled the remains of his right sleeve back with his left hand and teeth. He gasped and winced as bits of thread and cloth pulled out of the wound. A wet, puffy scab ran down most of the length of his arm. He suspected it looked worse than it really was. Once he cleaned it and applied a salve-he prayed it was still in the pack he'd retrieved from the assassins' camp-it would likely hurt for a tenday, then be nothing more than a bothersome itch for the rest of the month.
As he sat worrying over his arm, Lewan heard something moving through the brush not far up the hill. Even over the roar of the downpour he could hear it. He squeezed his left hand into a fist, shutting out most of the starstone's light. He held his breath, listened, and peered into the dark. Even after his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see nothing beyond his meager shelter. The forest was a patch of utter blackness.
There it was again-something making its way through the brush and mud. It wouldn't be an animal. The beasts were smart enough to find shelter and stay there until the storm was over.
Lewan considered calling out. More than likely, it was Berun come at last. Not finding Lewan at the lightning-blasted tree, he would've started searching. But if it wasn't Berun…
It was either his master, Lewan knew, or one of the assassins, and they could not have known where Lewan was going unless Berun told them. Except for maybe Sauk and his tiger. Lewan knew that of the band, only those two would stand any chance of tracking him. So… either Berun or Sauk.
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