Owlsight v(dt-2

by Mercedes Lackey

  “Or a child.” He mulled that over, while she held her breath, hoping that his answer would be the same as hers. “Whatever, it should be someone who’ll sneak out of the camp alone, so with you, me, Kel, and Tyrsell at most, we can overpower him long enough for Tyrsell to get the language.”

  “Exactly!” She beamed at him. “I guessed you’d be clever enough to see that - and willing to have me along to help!”

  “Willing? Havens, I can’t see trying this without you. Kel can subdue someone, but we’re going to have to immobilize our man, and Kel’s claws aren’t dexterous enough for that.” He grinned back. “Now this is just what I meant about you having good sense, with courage to match it!”

  She flushed and looked down at her stew bowl, eating very rapidly while she tried to subdue her blushes.

  “When do you want to try this?” she asked. “And - I know you’re not enamored of her, but I think we ought to bring Shandi in on this, too. She’s very clever, and she’s another set of hands.”

  “What about that Companion of hers?” he replied, skeptically. “I’m sure she wouldn’t give us away, but what’s to stop him from tattling to Kerowyn’s Sayvil?”

  She covered her mouth with her hand, embarrassed at her own stupidity. It was just so alien to think of Shandi with a Companion! “Oh, I completely forgot about him - No, you’re right. We shouldn’t bring her into this. Karles would have to tattle to Sayvil, especially after the way that Sayvil dressed him down. And what Sayvil knows, Kerowyn will soon find out. Companions are pretty bad about keeping any secrets but their own.”

  “Well, as to when - we can try tonight, have Kuari keep a watch on the camp and let us know if anyone from the women’s fire sneaks out.” He scratched his head, thinking. “My guess is, the women will probably try to get out under cover of darkness to fetch water, and some of the older children might have some snares out in the forest they’ll want to check. With our people withdrawing, they aren’t going to be quite as willing to do without fresh food and water when there’s no apparent danger. I know I was perfectly capable of running snares when I was only seven or eight; I can’t see why they wouldn’t be able to. During a siege, every little bit of food is valuable, and a boy might well get manhood status by daring to go outside the palisade to bring in rabbits.”

  She considered that; although she didn’t like the idea of trying to run about in the dark, she could see that this would offer the best opportunity. “We’ll have to catch our quarry far enough away from the barbarian camp that help won’t be able to come,” she said cautiously. “It’ll have to be so far that even if our prey raises a fuss, she won’t be heard, for there’s no point in taking the chance that someone would mount a rescue. It could get touchy when someone vanishes out in the forest, you know.”

  “With any luck, the barbarians will think that a forest monster caught her,” Darian replied, with just a touch of callousness. Then he looked faintly apologetic at his own attitude. “Oh, I know that sounds bad - it’s just that I still can’t help but think back, and want some kind of revenge.”

  She nodded, fully able to understand his feelings. “Revenge doesn’t get you anything productive, though. And it tends to breed more of the same.”

  “Yes,” he sighed. “You know, sometimes it’s an awful lot of trouble to be a civilized, reasonable, passably good person.”

  She thought back on all the times when she’d been tempted herself to just lash out at the world - the things she could have inflicted on poor, stupid Piel, for instance - and nodded. “I know,” she replied, with profound understanding. “Believe me, I know.”

  “If we’re going to keep doing this, we’ve got to get a kyree on our side,” Keisha whispered to Darian, as they crept, slowly and with many pauses for Darian to check with Kuari, through the undergrowth near the barbarian camp. She had made it very clear to him that she had no intention of climbing through the trees, and with some reluctance, he agreed that she was probably justified in refusing. She didn’t have the skills, the practice, or even Kuari to lend her his sight; she’d be going blindly, depending on Darian, and hoping she didn’t make a fatal false step. The tree route would be extremely difficult by daylight, but impossible for her at night. No matter how much she trusted Darian’s competence, she didn’t trust it that much.

  Kel was with Kuari in the trees above, Tyrsell trailing along with them below. And thanks be to all the gods, Shandi is still sleeping like a bag of rocks, or she ‘d have found out what we were going to do, I just know it.

  Keisha had thought she was used to moving through the woods, but it was a different proposition in this thick, damp darkness. Sudden noises startled her, twigs caught at her clothing and her hair, and she couldn’t seem to go three steps without making noises that sounded very loud to her. Darian was able to slip through the undergrowth as easily and noiselessly as a bit of mist; by contrast, she blundered through everything in her path like a blind calf.

  Nervous sweat plastered her hair to her scalp and her shirt to her back, and it was a tremendous relief when Darian’s hand on her wrist signaled a halt, and they crouched in the shelter of some bushes. “Kuari says there’s someone sneaking out of the camp right now,” he whispered. “It’s not a warrior, so this might just be our best chance at getting what we need. It looks as if he’s coming this way, so we’ll just stay where we are and let Kel ambush him.”

  He? Well, as long as it isn’t a fighter, it should still be all right. We should still be able to handle him if Kel takes him down.

  She nodded, hardly able to believe their luck. She’d assumed that they’d have to spend many nights like this - that this one was probably going to be nothing more than a rehearsal for an opportunity to come. But she reminded herself not to count on anything, and suppressed the nervous excitement that made her hands tremble and stomach clench. They didn’t have a captive yet.

  “I don’t believe this - ” Darian whispered a moment later. “He’s still coming straight for us!” He paused, and puzzlement crept into his voice. “He’s following something. Kuari can’t quite see it, but there is something there. Maybe a pet escaped and he’s trying to catch it?” “A hunting dog, more like, too valuable to get away,” Keisha suggested. But out of nowhere came a strange shiver of premonition, a certainty that of all things, a dog was definitely not what was out there.

  But Darian seemed satisfied with that explanation - or if he wasn’t, he didn’t say anything to her. “If it brings him this way, it’s fine with me,” he said fervently. “He’s already too far from their camp for anyone to hear if he yells; a bit more, and he’ll be so far out that the bondbirds watching the camp won’t notice anything either.”

  “Even better!” That was something that had worried them both, that they’d give their plan away the instant Kel made his capture, and they’d be in trouble with their own side before they got a chance to see their plan through.

  “In fact,” he added, with growing excitement, “it looks like Kel is going to be able to bring him down practically at our feet!”

  Try as she might, there was nothing to really see in these dark woods except variations in the degree of darkness. She already knew that she could peer out there until she got a headache, and still see nothing. As time crawled as slowly as the ant making its way up her leg, Keisha swatted at insects and tried to be as quiet as possible while doing so, straining her ears for any sound that might signal the approach of this stranger. But when such a sign came, it wasn’t a sound but, much to her astonishment, a sight.

  Out beneath the trees, out on the edge of vision, she saw light. Something out there moved lithely from bit of cover to bit of cover; something very large, and very pale, shimmering with a ghostly iridescence so faint that for a while she was half certain that the effect was nothing more than her own imagination or eyestrain. The only reason she noticed it in the first place was its movement. It certainly wasn’t human, nor was it a dog, or any other beast Keisha recognized. She didn’t ge
t a good look at it; either it was adept at hiding itself, or it changed shape from moment to moment.

  Was this what their quarry was stalking? If so, they owed it a debt. . . .

  Just when it seemed that the creature was getting near enough that she’d be able to identify it, it faded into a wall of shadow, and vanished completely, while the hair on the back of her neck stood up in atavistic alarm.

  But it had been visible long enough for the young barbarian following to get exactly where Kelvren wanted him.

  From somewhere up above came a blood-curdling screech; the slight shadow making his way carefully through the undergrowth in the wake of the ghostly light froze, still balanced on one foot. Then he made a break for it, but it was too late.

  Everyone had told Keisha that seeing Kelvren make an attack was one of the most thrilling spectacles imaginable. It was too bad that it was far too dark for her to see anything except a pair of shadow-wings for a fraction of a second, followed by a tremendous crash in the undergrowth.

  “I have him!” Kel crowed happily, over the sound of hysterical screams. “Now come and tie him up!”

  Darian conjured a mage-light in one hand, and stared into the sullen eyes of their captive. He looked to be just around Darian’s own age, perhaps a little younger. He was angry, frightened, and Darian would not have given a copper bit for their lives if he got a weapon in his hands.

  Physically, he was a little shorter than Darian, with weathered, scratched skin that would be pale beneath his tan, and a shock of unwashed, tangled black hair. His eyes were as black as his hair, and his teeth, clenched in a grimace, had the canines filed to points. They’d tied his hands behind him, and his feet together, and sat him up against a tree trunk while they moved on to the next part of the plan.

  He wasn’t going to cooperate in any way whatsoever, not that Darian cared. He doesn’t have to be cooperative in order for Tyrsell to get his language. Darian looked up at Tyrsell, who had watched the entire proceedings with intense interest. “Are you ready?”

  :I am. I rather doubt that he is, however.: The dyheli snorted.:And you, Healer, are you ready?:

  “As much as I can be.” Poor Keisha looked horribly nervous; this must have been so foreign to her, even though she had already undergone the process once.

  “I know it’s no help to say this, but if you can relax, this should be relatively easy for you,” he told her with as comforting a smile as he could manage. “The first time is always the hardest; you’re used to it now, and you’ve had lots of practice in Mind-Gifts. It’s generally the fact that you’re resisting something so entirely new that you instinctively fear it that gives you the worst headache.”

  She blinked at him as if that hadn’t occurred to her. “Oh,” was all she said, but as the hostile eyes of their prisoner went from him to her and back again, she visibly relaxed.

  :Well done,: Tyrsell said with approval, and then they were both lying flat on their backs, staring up at branches and leaves reflecting the mage-light, as Kel and Tyrsell watched them with interest. Darian didn’t have more than a touch of headache this time; he hoped Keisha had fared as well.

  Her first words seemed to indicate that she had. “Forty-one words for snow?” Keisha exclaimed in disbelief. “Why would anyone need all those words for different kinds of snow? Snow is snow!”

  “All I care about is the words for ‘what the hell do you people think you’re doing here?’ “ Darian replied as he sat up, pleased to discover that he still had no more than a vague ache behind his forehead to show for this latest language acquisition.

  The young man had not fared so well; he was still out cold.

  :I took the liberty of giving him Tayledras, but not Valdemaran,: Tyrsell informed them loftily. :That way he will understand some of the negotiators and can act as a translator, but you will still have a language he does not know so that you can speak freely before him. Besides, it was a useful way to keep him from getting into mischief until you awoke.: The king-stag wrinkled his nostrils with his head high, testing the air. :If you have no further need of me, I will be off.:

  “No further need, but we couldn’t be doing this without you. Thank you, Tyrsell,” Darian replied with feeling. :You are most welcome. I hope that your plan succeeds.: Tyrsell slipped away into the darkness, leaving them alone with the young barbarian who was just waking.

  “What did you do to me?” he demanded angrily, his face contorting with the pain of his headache. “Is this some demon-born torture you’ve worked on me?”

  “No,” Keisha said, “it only feels like one.” As the young man’s eyes widened to hear her speak his own language, she continued. “Our magics enable us to take what we wish from your mind, and it seemed useful to have command of your tongue. So, as you can see, there is nothing that you can keep secret from us, but taking your knowledge exacts a toll in pain from you and we would spare you that; you can suffer more of this, or you can answer our questions. The choice is yours.”

  “Personally, I’d answer her,” Darian added sternly. “Or you’re likely to wish someone would kill you to be rid of the pain in your head. The more we take, the worse it will get.”

  His face paled, and he appeared to wilt - and without that sullen, defiant expression, he looked several years younger than Darian.

  “What do you want to know?” he asked, defeat written large in his expression.

  “Your name, first,” Keisha said. “Hywel, son of Pedren, son of Hothgar the Ugly, son of - ” he began, obviously quite prepared to recite a lineage back to the beginning of his tribe.

  “That’s enough!” Keisha interrupted, stopping him. “Hywel will do.”

  “So, Hywel, why have your people fortified their camp?” Darian asked, keeping his stern expression. “We offered to treat with your people, but they are rejecting our offers with apparent hostility.”

  “Because we are not fools!” the youngster retorted. “You threaten us, you come upon us with magic and warriors. Are we to simply lie down and allow you to slaughter us? Why are you so hostile to us? We had heard that the peoples of the south were hospitable and welcomed strangers!”

  “You mean ’soft,’ don’t you?” Darian asked cynically, and the young man flushed, then paled. “Well, you’ve found out differently. We’ve seen your kind; we know what to expect from you. Four years ago, one of your clan war parties came down here, looting and killing, making slaves and worse out of my folk, ruining what they didn’t steal! Why shouldn’t we meet you with fighters and magic? We should have met you with fire and the sword for what you did the last time!”

  He started to warm to his subject, but the young man interrupted him, with a curious look on his face. “Why do you say it was my people who did this to yours?”

  “You’re from the north,” Darian replied stubbornly, anger burning in the pit of his stomach. “You look the same, barring a few decorations.”

  “There are many Clans and tribes in the north, and most of them look the same to an outsider,” Hywel retorted, eyes flashing. “Nevertheless, they are not all the same. My people have done nothing to yours. It was not my people who put yours to the sword. My people,” he added proudly, “do not trade in, keep, or make slaves. Our fighters do not make up war parties to loot the wealth of others. I do not know which of the marauding tribes brought harm to you, but we are not them.”

  That simple statement brought Darian to a halt; it had never occurred to him that the tribes of the north could be as different as, say, Valdemar and Karse.

  “My Clan is Ghost Cat,” Hywel continued, with such pride that Darian was surprised. “And we are very like our totem. We are solitary hunters, we have our own herds. Our fighters are not thieves - they serve and protect the Clan from those who would steal our wealth. We prefer being unseen, like the Cat. None fight more bravely when we must,” he continued with bravado, “But we do not seek conflict. We walk by ourselves, seek our own path, and all places are alike to us.” He tilted his head to one sid
e, looking at Darian curiously. “What totem did your enemies follow?”

  “A bear,” Darian replied, wondering how much of Hy-wel’s speech to believe. “And the shaman bore the sign of the eclipse.”

  Hywel’s eyes nearly popped with surprise. “And you drove them off? Indeed, you are either lucky beyond belief or god-touched! That is Blood Bear, and they live for battle; when they can find no enemy, they fight among themselves! Most Clans avoid them at all cost; they have even violated Midsummer Truce in one of their rages!” He dropped his voice to a whisper and looked anxiously from side to side. “Some of their warriors gained the aspect of the Great Bear itself, by venturing into the Forbidden Places with their shaman. This I know, for I saw some of the Bear Warriors, when I was still at the women’s fire. It is said that they are the ones who brought the Summer Fever out of the Forbidden Places, which they dared to enter in their madness and their search for further unnatural powers and monstrous servants.”

  That seemed to clinch it; the entire speech rang of the truth, for Darian hadn’t mentioned the half-bear warriors, or the lizardlike creature that had served as one of the leaders. Further, the youngster could not possibly know that they knew about Summer Fever and how it began. That brought Darian to a momentary standstill, at a loss for what to ask next, his anger running out of him.