“Which means when we move against the village, you stay here.” Snowfire nodded. “I rather thought you’d say that. I can leave someone here on guard, if you like.”
“Why not Nightwind and Kel?” Starfall suggested. “She’s a good shot, and he’s worth five fighters in intimidation alone.”
“And it would keep him out of close combat; now that is a good idea.” Snowfire felt a bit more cheered. He’d been trying to think of a way to keep the gryphon from flinging himself into situations where he’d be a target rather than an asset, and this was perfect. Put him in the air and Nightwind at the valley entrance - put a couple of hertasi and dyheli in the valley right here, around Starfall’s ekele, acting as bodyguards - that would work very well. No matter how clever enemy fighters were, they wouldn’t get past the combined senses of a gryphon, hertasi, and dyheli. If somehow there was a concerted attack by a formidable group instead of an incursion of one or two fighters, Starfall would have warning, covering fire, and time to escape.
And Kel would rightly see this as a trust and an important assignment - which it was - rather than an attempt to keep him out of combat - which it also was.
“How are the traps coming?” Starfall asked, as Snowfire ran through his mental roster of hertasi and dyheli and made some tentative selections.
“Not so badly that anyone is getting frustrated, and not so well that anyone is nervous, thinking that things are going too well. The hertasi are approaching it with their usual zeal, and they’ve been making enough trap parts that Kel’s had to struggle to keep up with carrying, even with dyheli helping,” Snowfire told him, and picked up a small twig to draw in the dirt with. “Here’s where the main deadfall will be, along the river. We got that done first, before sunrise this morning. We found a place where a flood undermined the sandstone of the bluff and cut under it a little farther; if there wasn’t a magical prop holding it up now, it would be down in an instant. There is going to be more than enough stone blocking the path that they aren’t going to want to go back that way. This morning, we cut a path and aged it, then made things so difficult on either side that they aren’t going to want to leave it.” He sketched in the path, leading away from the river. “We put in a log bridge over this ravine here that is going to fall apart as soon as anyone puts a foot on it. They’ll either have to rebuild the bridge or make a strenuous climb down and back up; in either case, they’ll be tired, and it’ll be dusk by the time they reach this clearing.” He made a circle and tapped it with the twig.
“Then that is where they’ll stop,” Starfall eyed it with interest. “And that is when the hertasi and dyheli begin removing sentries and other woods-wanderers?”
“And while some of them are doing that, the rest of the hertasi will be setting the traps we set up today along the trail they came up from the river on.” Snowfire grinned at Starfall’s look of surprise. “Exactly. No matter which way they try to go in the morning, they’ll run into man-traps. I didn’t see any reason to give them an unhindered path in any direction. By that time, they’ll already know they’re under attack, so there’s no point in putting a lot of effort into making traps that will look like accidents. When they trigger these traps, they’ll know it’s something left for them by an enemy.”
“Good so far,” Starfall mused. “But you can’t get all of them with traps. So?”
“So the man-traps themselves form a channeling-trap. Tomorrow when we set everything up, we’ll be leaving one easier direction - here.” He drew a sweeping arrow toward a patch of green moss. “They’ll come out into the clear, with no place to go for cover and a ravine at their back. It ought to be no difficult thing for the hertasi to pick them off with bows.”
“And at any rate, by the time the survivors struggle back to the village, the rescue should be long over. I like it.” Starfall nodded decisively.
“Even if the mage at the village can communicate with the fighters out here, they won’t be able to get back in time to do him any good. It’ll be the middle of the night, and the woods will be full of hertasi with knives and traps just waiting to be sprung.” Snowfire nodded, feeling very pleased with himself. “And to avoid leaving a trail back here to the encampment, we’re going to try to get the villagers across the bridge and take them downriver to that Kelmskeep place Dar’ian told us of. I think if anyone follows us, it will be that way, and I hope there will be a force to meet us from the Valdemarans.”
“I have sent a message to Lord Breon of Kelmskeep, that reached the place today,” Starfall confirmed, but then frowned. “The thing is, I do not know if it will be heeded or even seen by the man himself.”
“How did you send it?” Snowfire asked.
“A written message, delivered by raven to the gatekeeper this morning; Raindance saw it through the bird’s eyes. She said he seemed startled.” Starfall shrugged. “It took the bird this long to reach Kelmskeep; the best we can hope for, I think, is that an escorting force meet you on the way.”
Snowfire sighed, well aware that the Adept was right. Best to count on what they had, not what they hoped they would have.
“Well, I leave all the magic doings in your capable hands,” he said.
“And I will leave the rest in yours.” Starfall stood up and stretched, and walked back into the center of the clearing, where he took his seat again and closed his eyes. A moment later, the containment shield had sprung up around him. Snowfire whistled to Hweel, who was still gossiping with the cooperi, and the great owl launched himself into the air to follow him back to the main encampment.
:What were you two chattering about?: he asked his bird. :You don’t usually have that much to say to the day birds.:
:Mates,: Hweel said shortly, then elaborated. :He may be young, but he has a mate. He has two fledges this year, now flying strong.:
Snowfire sensed that there was more. :And?: he persisted.
:They come, all five. His mate, mine, three fledges.: Hweel’s mind-voice was tentative, as if he was afraid that Snowfire would object to the arrival of his mate and young.
That was the last thing on Snowfire’s mind. Although he wasn’t bonded to Hweel’s mate Huur, she worked with Hweel so effectively when she wasn’t tending youngsters that he might just as well have been. And having a clumsy fledgling around wasn’t a bad thing as long as you could keep the youngster close to the camp.
:I’ll be glad to see them,: he replied, and sensed the relief in Hweel’s mind. :lt was clever of you to have his mate come with yours; the fledges will have protection by day and night on the journey.:
Hweel huured, a contented little sound of pleasure from which his mate got her name. He liked being praised, and he had greatly missed his mate, so knowing that Snowfire would welcome her arrival made him doubly happy.
It would be no bad thing to have a couple of unbonded birds along with the expedition either. They would make excellent camp guards, and if the unthinkable happened and someone lost a bird, there would be possible replacements at hand.
Enough; concentrate on the immediate problem, he reminded himself. He needed to collect Darian and some paper and a charcoal stick; it was time to make a detailed plan of how to get into and out of the village.
He’d left Darian about to take his turn in the bathing pool; by now the boy should be clean and ready for something to eat. Snowfire was terribly proud of him, for Darian had worked as hard as any of them, and had mastered his frustration admirably when someone didn’t quite understand what it was he wanted for a trap. The boy had matured a great deal in the last week, though it was clear every so often that he was still a boy.
When this is over - he needs some time to play and be young, Snowfire concluded to himself. But right now, well, none of them could afford to be anything other than mature and responsible.
He collected more meat and bread from the stores; the berries were gone, but when Ayshen heard who this next meal was going to, he pulled Snowfire aside and passed him a honeycake surreptitiously. “The hatch
ling didn’t get enough the last time I made them,” Ayshen said, as if daring him to challenge the statement. Since Snowfire had seen Darian stuffing himself with the coveted sweets, and knew Ayshen knew he had, it was clear that the hertasi had taken very strongly to the boy.
“I’ll make sure he knows who sent it,” Snowfire replied, and carried the treasure off. He’d seen Ayshen watching the boy out of the corner of his long eye; evidently this was the hertasi’s way of rewarding hard work.
He met Darian on the path, hair damp, dressed in fresh clothing. “Here, I brought you something to eat,” Snowfire said, holding the napkin out to him. “There’s a honeycake in there from Ayshen.”
“There is?” Darian looked as pleased as if it had been a lump of amber. “I love Ayshen’s honeycakes! Where can we go so I can eat, and help you with those maps of the village you wanted at the same time?”
“Let’s try the council clearing,” Snowfire suggested. “There’s a game place there that no one is going to be using tonight. We’ll have a drawing surface there.”
Darian nodded, his mouth already full of bread and meat. He followed Snowfire to the clearing and at the far side Snowfire took over the game place, a flat sheet of rock balanced on a stump that served as a table, and two more stumps, one on either side of it. He took the taller of the two, and Darian took the shorter, as he spread out the first sheet of paper and took out a scribing rod. “All right,” he said, making a diagonal line for the bank of the river. “Here is the riverbank. Let’s start there.”
“Put one edge of the forest here, and one here,” Darian suggested, pointing with a sticky finger. “And the bridge would be here.” He devoured the last crumb of his cake and licked his fingers clean while Snowfire sketched. “Right, now put the back edge of the forest there. The road goes from the bridge to the center of town, and stops there. Here’s the mill, with the waterwheel there. There’s the forge.”
Snowfire was agreeably surprised at the lad’s clear and precise ability to remember and place everything in the village, but there just weren’t enough adequate areas of cover to sneak a number of people in without getting caught.
“. . . and here’s where the aqueduct starts,” Darian was saying, and the words brought him out of his thoughts with a jolt.
“Aqueduct?” he said, suddenly interested. “What aqueduct?”
“We use it to bring river water to the fields in summer,” Darian explained. “See, it goes around through the middle of the planted fields, then to the cistern house and the watering trough in the center of town.”
“And where does it stop?” Snowfire demanded. “What’s it made of?”
“It stops at the river, I guess,” Darian said, confused by the sudden barrage of urgent questions. “There’s a water-lifting wheel beside the mill that brings water up to the aqueduct and that brings the water out of the river down to the fields because it’s always sloping down from where it starts. As for what it’s made of - hollow tree trunk, mostly. It’s covered to keep trash out of it.”
“Is it big enough for a man to crawl in?” Snowfire persisted.
“Oh, certainly - and I see what you want to do!” Suddenly Darian was all smiles. “It’s absolutely big enough for a man to crawl inside. What’s more, even though we use it all summer, I doubt that anyone’s tending to it now. I can’t imagine a bunch of barbarians thinking to irrigate the fields, and I doubt that anyone in the village is inclined to help them by telling them that the fields need water.”
“So it starts at the river?” Snowfire asked. “Where, precisely?”
Now Darian’s face fell. “I don’t exactly know,” he confessed. “It’s all overgrown there; I know it’s somewhere near the mill, but not exactly. At least, I don’t know what the place looks like at night. It’s real tall, though, because otherwise it wouldn’t be able to slope down to the fields.”
“But if we can find it, we can get right into the heart of the village undetected.” This was exactly the sort of thing Snowfire was looking for. “Dar’ian, your memory is so good, surely you can remember where the aqueduct starts!”
But Darian shook his head unhappily. “I know what it looks like, but I can’t tell you where to find it,” he confessed. “I only remember that it’s near the mill, not in it.” He looked up at Snowfire hopefully. “I could guide you, though.”
Snowfire frowned. “I don’t want you anywhere near possible fighting,” he objected.
“But if you won’t let me guide you, how do you expect to convince people you aren’t a different kind of enemy?” Darian asked shrewdly. “None of them have ever seen a Hawkbrother, and they’ll probably be frightened of you!”
That was something else Snowfire hadn’t thought of, and he hated to admit it, but the boy was probably right. Still, it went against the grain to permit someone as young as Darian anywhere near combat.
He argued with the boy for some time, and in the end Darian had more good, sound reasons why he should go than Snowfire had counters for them.
“All right,” Snowfire sighed. “You can guide us. But just to a place of safety, mind! You aren’t to rush in and try to help if there’s fighting. You’ll only get in the way, and you might make someone lose his concentration and his life.
“I promise!” Darian agreed, his eyes shining.
Snowfire only hoped that both of them - and ultimately, the village and the Hawkbrothers - would not regret this decision.
Seven
Now, in some ways, came the worst part. All of the traps were constructed and set, and now came the waiting. Daystorm had her birds over the village, while Starfall created his “bait,” and the nagging question was, would their foe take it?
If he closed his own eyes, Snowfire could picture the scene as clearly as if he himself were there. A flock of five crows perched in a tree above the rooftops of Errold’s Grove, an unusually silent gathering, but no one in the village seemed to notice either their presence or their silence. Through their eyes, Daystorm watched the activity in the village below. Two of the crows were bonded to her, the rest were the offspring of her original pair, but all were willing to lend her their eyes and wings, especially when the activity at hand promised to be entertaining. Snowfire occasionally envied the Tayledras who bonded to crows and ravens; the birds had tremendous senses of humor, and as a matter of course, when the original bird took a mate, the mate also became his or her bondbird. Sometimes Hweel’s sober dignity was a little wearing, and he would have welcomed the raucous hooliganism of a band of crows; he would also have welcomed having both halves of a pair as his bondbirds. He sometimes worried that having an unbonded mate gave Hweel divided loyalties.
Last night the dyheli doe Pyreen had taken her place upriver, carrying the double burden of an illusion of a heavily guarded caravan and the newly-strengthened power-point. She had remained stationary until daybreak, then moved slowly southward, mimicking the plodding pace of heavily-laden mules. By then Daystorm’s birds had already been in place to see if the mage somewhere below would take the bait. Tentative experiments had proven that either the mage could not sense anything different about the bondbirds, or that there was enough magical energy in the form of his own Changed fighters to mask the magic of the birds and their links to their bondmates. To Snowfire’s mind, that only confirmed his impression that it had been Kelvren that the “watchdogs” had reacted to, and not Hweel.
Daystorm was simply sitting quietly with her back braced against a tree at the side of the Council circle, with an eager audience waiting around her. She took it all in stride, including the audience; there was very little that rattled this experienced scout. She sat so quietly that she could have been a painted statue, for her chest rose and fell so slowly that it would be very difficult to tell that she was breathing. Her hair, shorn short on the sides, cut into a stiff crest on the top, and braided in a long tail down her back, never moved in the fitful breeze that came with sunrise, contributing to the statuelike illusion.
Finally she broke the silence. “There’s some activity around the Lutters’ house,” Daystorm announced. “Someone just dashed out. Now - he’s going around to all the houses of the village at a run. He’s pounding on the doors and shouting something at each house. Now there are men coming out of the houses, one out of each, walking fast toward the Lutter house.”
Well, that confirmed the guess that whoever was in command of this force had taken over the Lutter house, which - although it was not the largest - was definitely the finest house in the village, according to Darian. Lutter had been one of the dye-merchants, was still the only merchant in the village, and was possibly the wealthiest man in Errold’s Grove before the Storms. By now, of course, his store of ready cash was used up, but his house and the contents were still the finest in the village.
So, naturally, the place would be taken by the most powerful person in the invading forces, and that person appeared to be the mage. That was good to know, but it did leave several questions unanswered. There was a question of who was in absolute control - was the mage the definitive leader, or did he serve a military leader? Was there more than one mage, and if so, how powerful were the others? So far, no recognizable mage had come within view of any of the birds.
“Just the usual, now,” Daystorm announced. Snowfire sighed; after several days of observation, they had a good idea of the usual daily schedule. Once the sun rose, the villagers were roused from sleep by the slavemasters - they had all been crammed into the threshing barn, which was the least weathertight of all of the village buildings, serving merely to keep rain and damp away from grain while it was being threshed from the stalk. Men, women, and children were all housed together, and at a rough guess, the barbarians had managed to round up and take most of the villagers prisoner. Everyone, old and young, regardless of physical condition, was expected to work in the fields or do menial tasks. The numbers didn’t add up exactly, but there were probably a few “special” slaves in the houses, serving the barbarian leaders and elite fighters, and thus, exempt from field work.
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