Judgment mtg-3

by Will McDermott

  "Did you bring the coin pouch?" asked Kamahl.

  "Aye," grumbled Balthor.

  "We'll have to pay for silence in the plains, old friend," said Kamahl. "You know that. There are plenty of farmers and ranchers who will hide us for the right price. Most have no allegiance to the Order. The just work the land."

  The two rode on through the darkest part of the night. The moon had finally set behind the mountains, and the sun would not rise for another hour. Then, as the morning's first light touched the flat plains that stretched out ahead of them, the stream they were following met up with another stream to form a river that flowed out into the fertile grasslands-land that burned with more than just the sun's rays.

  "Fire," said Kamahl as he squinted into the sunrise. "Headed this way."

  Balthor scanned the horizon. "If we cut northwest now, we can outrun it," he said. "Or we lose half a day going around to the east."

  "Shouldn't we do something about the fire?" asked Kamahl.

  "Why?" asked Balthor. "That fire's not our problem, not if we head northwest now. Our problem is the fire that's tearing through your sister's gut." Balthor kicked his heels into his horse and pulled on the reigns, pushing the horses into a gallop. "Now, come on, ye big oaf. We've got a fire to race."

  Kamahl pushed his horse into a gallop and followed Balthor across the two streams and north between the foothills and the fire. The horses would get no rest until noon at best. He hoped they could handle the stress.

  *****

  "Commander Eesha," said Laquatas, bowing low in front of the Order military commander. "Thank you for seeing me this morning."

  "We are quite busy here, Ambassador, so please make it quick," said Eesha, as she grabbed a stack of orders from her table and handed them to the lieutenant who had escorted Laquatas and Burke into the tent. "Dinell, distribute these to the aven scouts. I want them in the air before you return."

  "Yes, ma'am," said Dinell, saluting his commander and then rushing out of the tent.

  "You may want to recall him when you hear what I have to say, Commander," said Laquatas as he pushed a stack of maps off a chair and sat down, kicking his long, slender legs up onto Eesha's command table.

  Eesha spread her wings abruptly, filling the tent from side to side. "You forget yourself, Ambassador!" she growled. "This is my command post. I am in charge here. You are here at my consent only. I have overlooked your past breaks with protocol because you are a trusted ally of the Order. But you will stand in my presence, Ambassador, or I will have you removed."

  "Lord Laquatas," said the mer, leaning back in the chair.

  "Excuse me?" roared Eesha.

  "You will address me as 'Lord Laquatas,' not ambassador," said the mer calmly. "I am the Lord of the merfolk, so you will therefore call me 'Lord Laquatas.' And if you think you can remove me while my jack is in the room, you are welcome to try. Until then, I suggest you calm down and listen to what I have to say, or you will lose your one chance to capture the Butcher of the Citadel."

  Eesha had raised her clawed hand to protest again but stopped when Laquatas mentioned Kamahl. She pulled her arm down and folded her wings back behind her, slowly and methodically. Laquatas could swear he saw her counting to ten as she did so.

  "I am terribly sorry, Lord Laquatas. I meant no disrespect," she said after calming down. "The last two days have been rough. We battled a Cabal raiding party last night-"

  "I know. I arrived last night," said Laquatas. "I had hoped you would wait until the Cabal had actually captured the barbarian and recovered the orb before attacking, which was why I had come to find you. To tell you that my sources reported that the Cabal had failed in their attempt."

  "If you were here last night," said Eesha, "why didn't you and your jack aid us in the battle?"

  "We did. I dare say you would not have survived without our help," said Laquatas. "But, this is, as you say, your command, and I would never presume to overstep my authority as nothing more than a representative of the mer people. But as Burke and I aided in your little nighttime excursion, I noticed that amidst the chaos of the battle, your quarry was slipping right through your… claws."

  "What?"

  "Kamahl, his dwarf friend, and the Mirari were a stone's throw from this very tent not more than twelve hours ago, and I was the only one to notice."

  Laquatas stood, prowled around the desk, and stopped just inches from Eesha, staring down into her birdlike face. "You marched your army down here to bring the butcher to justice, and you let him ride right past you because you were blinded by your hatred of the Cabal!" he shouted.

  Eesha staggered back several steps in the face of the mer's verbal onslaught.

  "And yet," said Laquatas, smiling again, his voice calm and almost lilting, "the fates have smiled upon you, for your trusted ally and friend was watching out for your best interests. I know where the butcher is headed."

  Laquatas turned and sat down in Eesha's command chair. "But I wouldn't want to overstep my bounds and tell you how to command your army. I'm sure the Cabal would pay handsomely for this information that I am giving to you out of my deep respect and loyalty to the Order. Shall I leave and pursue other allegiances?"

  "No!" said Eesha, coming up beside the mer. "Of course not. We are grateful for everything you have done for the Order, Lord Laquatas. Please forgive my outburst earlier. You truly are a trusted friend of the Order. Deliver the Butcher to us, and I will pledge all the might of the Order to help you regain your throne."

  Laquatas smiled. That's better, he thought. The mer then stood and offered the chair to Eesha, saying, "Sit commander, and I will share with you a plan I have devised that will insure that Kamahl and the Mirari never fall into Cabal hands."

  *****

  Having ridden hard most of the day to get past the fire and find another river to cool down and refresh their horses, Balthor and Kamahl followed the river to the nearest ranch and paid for a night's lodging.

  "A huge ransom for a night in the barn," said Balthor as they wiped down their mounts and tossed the horse blankets in the straw for bedding.

  "We're paying for their silence after we leave," said Kamahl. "Plus, we got a wagon for Jeska."

  "Aye," said Balthor as he sat down on his blanket. "A broken-down old wagon they don't even use anymore."

  "Do you always complain this much, you scruffy, old dwarf?" asked Kamahl, smiling at his mentor's discomfort.

  "Only when I'm on the road," said Balthor, smiling as well. "Fiers! I miss this life."

  "You can have it," said Kamahl. "I'm tired of running, and I'm tired of fighting. There has to be more. Maybe I should stay here and raise sheep. What do you think? Would I make a good shepherd?"

  Kamahl looked down at Balthor, a staff in his hands and a piece of straw in his mouth.

  "Nah," Balthor said, chuckling. "Farming is for common folk. You are definitely the most uncommon man I've ever known."

  "Well, somebody has to tend the land, don't they?" said Kamahl, setting the staff aside and sitting down on his blanket next to his mentor. "Take that fire today. It's ruining the plains. Who cares for the plains?"

  "Eh?" spouted Balthor. "What do ye mean?" "I mean, the dwarves care for the mountains, and the elves and druids care for the forests. But who cares for the plains?" "The Order?" "Nah. All they care about is enforcing their laws."

  "Well," said Balthor, "I guess the farmers and the ranchers. Ye said they had no allegiance to the Order. They must stay on the land 'cause they love it, just like the elves and the dwarves love the forest and the… rocks."

  "Exactly," said Kamahl, "and I'm starting to wonder what that's like. I have a fondness for Auror, but it's more for the people than for the land. I guess it's the restless tribal spirit in me. I never stay in one place too long. I just think that maybe I should give up the constant running battles and settle down to become a druid like Seton or tend to the mountains like your brethren."

  "Bah!" said Balthor. "Ye'd hate it boy.
Too much toil and not enough excitement. That's why I never went back to me people after the war. You and me, we were bred for war, not for tilling the soil."

  "You're probably right, Balthor," said Kamahl as he lay down on his side and pushed the horse blanket under his head for support. "But maybe, just for a while, it might be good to take some time to listen to the trees."

  Balthor stared at the back of his friend. "What in Fiers's name does that mean?"

  "It's something Seton said once," said Kamahl, sitting back up. "Everything in life has a story-a beginning, a middle, and an end. But, according to Seton, if you listen to the trees, you find out there's more to it than that. That somehow all the stories are connected together, and there are no endings, only new beginnings." Kamahl shrugged his shoulders. "I guess to truly understand it, you have to stop and listen to the trees, and they talk pretty slowly."

  "Well, ye won't catch me talking to no trees," said Balthor. "Now, get some sleep. We've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and that fire won't stop Laquatas for long, ye can be sure of that."

  CHAPTER 17

  "Well, Talbot," said Laquatas into his mirror. "It would appear that Braids was more successful than earlier reports had indicated."

  "How do you mean, sire?" "Kamahl has left the mountains and is heading straight for the Krosan Forest." Laquatas reclined into the furs piled on his cot and snapped his fingers at Burke who stood silently next to the tent flap. At the mental summons, the jack brought a plate piled high with breads and cheeses, courtesy of Commander Eesha.

  "Why would he do that, my lord?" asked Talbot. "I'm not entirely clear on the details," said Laquatas. "Some drivel about his sister dying. He's off to find a druid he met in the pits. It doesn't really matter."

  Laquatas took a few pieces of cheese and some bread from the plate then waved Burke back to his corner. "What does matter is that he and the Mirari are headed for Krosan, and all we have to do is make sure he enters the forest where Havelock and the marines are stationed."

  "How do we do that, sire?" asked Talbot.

  "Norda's tears, man. Do I have to lay everything out for your

  "Forgive me, sire," said Talbot. "I don't have your talent for intrigue."

  "Quite all right, Talbot," said Laquatas. "It is a skill I have cultivated all my life. It comes naturally to me now. We will, quite simply, herd Kamahl into Havelock's ambush by cutting off all other routes. The Order commander has graciously offered her forces for the task. The units here will drive the barbarian north, and she has sent word to the Citadel for reinforcements that will push him west. I will travel with the commander to make sure there are no mistakes and to position Havelock for the finale. It will be like spearing fish in a school."

  "Excellent, sire," said Talbot. "What do you need of me?"

  The mer lord dropped another hunk of cheese into his mouth and chewed it slowly. "I need to know what Braids is planning. I have both Kamahl and the Order managed at this point, but she is an unknown variable and impossible to control. Find out where Braids and her Cabal raiders disappeared to and what they plan to do next. I may not be able to control her, but I may be able to use her."

  "Yes, my lord."

  Laquatas put the mirror back in his pack and snapped his fingers for Burke again.

  *****

  "Have you talked with the First yet, ma'am?" asked Traybor as he entered the tent he had formerly occupied.

  "Not yet," said Braids, forcing her eyes to focus on the papers in front of her. Reading had never been easy for the summoner, and looking at the world through the gauze of her dementia cloud tended to make the words crawl around on the page. "I am still trying to make sense of all these reports."

  "May I be of some assistance, ma'am?" asked Traybor, sitting opposite her at the table.

  "Have you read these reports?" she asked, tossing the sheaf of papers across the table.

  "Not all of the unit reports, no," said Traybor, "but I compiled the major reports." He picked up the papers and quickly put them back in the proper order and laid them on the table in a neat stack.

  "Then summarize those for me, so I may make my report to the First."

  Traybor picked up the top report, skimmed the first page, and said, "This is the casualty report. We lost thirty of our fifty grunts, but only five summoners during the battle with the Order. Interestingly, one entire summoner unit was destroyed well behind the battle line."

  "That is odd," said Braids. "Which unit?

  Traybor checked the casualty list. "A three-man unit under the control of Trost."

  "Trost?" asked Braids, looking through Traybor with her brow crinkled as she stepped briefly into her dementia space. "Why is that name familiar?" she said wistfully, not entirely in the room anymore. "Oh, yes," she said, snapping her head back straight, her eyes clearing again. "I fought with Trost in the pits. He was a powerful summoner with a menagerie of huge dementia creatures. Who or what could have killed him?"

  "This report doesn't say," said Traybor. "We would have to check the unit reports to see if any of the unit leaders saw Trost get killed."

  "Check them," said Braids as she swirled her hand through her dementia cloud, turning the morass of black particles into a vortex.

  "I felt something odd on the fringe of my perception during the battle, but I couldn't afford to delve too deeply into my dementia space to see it clearly. Escaping from the Order trap was our top priority, but I know that frost's death is connected. We must find out who or what killed him."

  Traybor flipped through the reports. "Four units were in that quadrant of the battle____________________ I need to find the reports of the other units… They should be together… Here they are."

  Traybor skimmed the unit reports while Braids used her dementia space to create a scale model of the battle from memory and began pushing pieces around the table, moving the battle forward and backward in time, looking for any oddity that had escaped her attention during the battle.

  "Here," said Traybor. "I found something in Isolde's report. She was stationed between Trost and the command post."

  On the table the three men in Trost's unit turned yellow while Isolde and her two summoners turned a golden hue.

  Traybor read the report. "About midway through the battle I heard one of Trost's men confront an intruder. We were busy dealing with a wing of aven mages and the inexplicable loss of most of our summoned ground troops, so we could not move to assist. By the time we drove off the avens and replenished the frontlines, Trost and his men were dead. Livia reported later that she had seen a large, black-skinned beast tangling with one of Trost's slicers."

  Traybor looked up from the report and said, "That's all there is. What do you think?"

  Braids didn't answer. Her eyes had rolled back into her head, and she was staring, white-eyed at the top of the tent. On the dementia-map of the battle a blue-black, hulking figure bashed its hand through the skull of the slicer and pulled the beast's pincer out of its side and use it to skewer Trost.

  "Great Kuberr!" whispered Traybor. "What could do that?"

  Another figure appeared behind Trost's assassin-a tall, thin, silvery-blue man with short horns and semi-webbed fingers. As Traybor waited for Braids to return so she could answer his question, two red dots appeared at the edge of the battle simulation, near a glowing white aven.

  "Laquatas… Burke… here?" gasped Braids, her eyes still halfway into her forehead, her mouth open as she gulped for air between words. "What were they doing running through the battle?"

  "Braids?" called Traybor to the entranced summoner. "Braids? Focus on my voice. What are those two dots? The two red dots near the fight between the beast and Trost? Behind the downed aven. Braids. Focus on the red dots."

  The battle between Burke and the sheer reversed, and the two figures ran back into the chaos of the frontline battle and disappeared. The aven flew back up into the air to the point where her light splashed across the two red dots. The battle froze there and then rota
ted around, bringing the rear echelon into focus. The edges of the melee then melted away as Braids enlarged the red dots. Finally, all that was left of the simulation were two figures on horses-a dwarf and a barbarian.

  As the dementia memory turned to smoke on the table. Braids came back fully to the present. "Kamahl and the dwarf who killed Leer," she said. "It must have been the Mirari I felt last night. I'd better contact the First."

  *****

  Kamahl and Balthor continued northward, pushing their mounts as hard as they dared given the condition of the cart that held Jeska. An Order patrol had tried to cut them off from the east by creating a wall of billowing, white clouds, but it was now falling behind. Balthor had tossed a huge ball of fire, which erupted inside the cloud, turning the solid cloud into a thick fog of steam that shielded the warriors from the infantry attacks as they rode through.

  "That's the third patrol today," said Balthor, cracking the reins over the heads of the horses. "And this one had a mage.

  Ye gotta let me fight, Kamahl, or one of those Order pups is going to get lucky."

  "No." said Kamahl. "No more bloodshed. We'll have to find another way to stop these attacks. I told you, I'm tired of all of the killing, and I won't use that sword you've hidden away back there, either."

  "How did ye know?" asked Balthor. "Did ye see me stowing it in the stable?"

  "I can sense the presence of the Mirari, you old fool," said Kamahl. "I've followed that thing to the end of the continent and back. Did you think you could hide it from me in some cloth? I only let you bring it along because I plan to bury it in the Krosan Forest. It's the one place in Otaria that both the Order and Laquatas fear to go."

  "What about the Cabal?" asked Balthor.

  "Summoners do enter Krosan to add beasts to their dementia space," admitted Kamahl. "But it's a significant ritual, and many do not survive the trip. I went with Chainer on his ritual, and we barely made it out of the forest alive. Even the strongest Cabal mages have never been all the way to the center of the forest. The Mirari will be safe there."