by Robert Beers
The Emperor of Ort had humiliated Bilardi's father over sixty-seven years ago, but to the present Duke the wounds were as fresh as if the deed had been done to him yesterday.
He had a plan for the Ambassador. The man McCabe would play a part in it. The Ambassador's brother, the Emperor, would be forced into a position where he would have no choice but to declare war upon Grisham. Bilardi had no doubt as to the eventual outcome of that war.
McCabe's likes and desires repulsed him, but they also made up a large part of what made the little pervert perfect for the plan.
The Ambassador had two daughters upon whom he doted. McCabe's self-assured, confident manner and his dark good looks would go a long way towards using at least one of them as a weapon against the father.
Yes, McCabe was perfect, and he loved the irony of the idea. He would attract, become close to, seduce and then murder one of the young ladies.
Bilardi picked up his cognac and sipped it while he gazed upon his city. Yes, McCabe was perfect, as perfect as if he, Bilardi had made him to order himself.
His gaze swept across the city once more, coming to rest upon the Ortian Embassy. A cold smile spread across his face. Perfect.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Children stopped to stare as the great dog and its rider passed by on the cobblestoned streets. The rider seemed to be looking for something without really looking. Its head would turn from side to side every few yards or so without focusing on any of the people or buildings.
Those few souls hearty enough to approach the dog would immediately retreat when the rider turned its head toward them. All crowds, regardless of their depth, parted like reeds before a boat to allow the dog to pass. Many in the crowds changed their chosen path to take them away from the rider and the dog. A few began making plans to move out of Grisham entirely.
The Envoy extended her senses as widely as possible. Her master would not allow her failure to find this disturbance of his to go unpunished, and she was beginning to think that whatever he'd sensed was no longer in Grisham.
The dog carried its rider into another street and she reached out again.
There! A faint glimmer of ... something. Her best description for it, if pressed for one, would have been potential, potential for great evil. The type of evil that cares nothing as to whether or not what it does is right or wrong, it does so because it likes what it is doing.
For the first time in many years, doubt entered her.
* * * *
Ethan and Circumstance left Westcott's Inn about an hour after sunrise. The air felt crisp and cool with hints of the approaching winter. Blue Jays in the pines complained at their passing and then flew on to roost in the next stand to do it all over again.
“Those birds are obnoxious.” Ethan looked up as a dislodged cone narrowly missed his shoulder.
“We're invading their territory.” Circumstance looked up at a branch where a pair of Jays perched, scolding them.
Ethan snorted. “I'm aware of that. That type of bird ruined many a picnic my family tried to have when I was growing up. I'm afraid I still hold something of a grudge. Let's get out of their back yard.”
They quickened the pace and soon passed beyond the border of that part of the wood the Blue Jays considered their own. They followed the curve of the mountain until they reached the southern face. Circumstance took the lead and Ethan allowed him to do so. Soon, the angle of the sun had them walking in shadow and the cool of the day became a chill.
Ethan called a halt to their walk and slipped the pack off of his back. “I'm going to have to put on something warmer. It feels like we'll be having an early winter.”
Circumstance glanced up at what sky could be seen through the overlapping branches of the pines. “I suppose so.”
The forest floor beneath them was thick with layers of fallen needles and their footfalls gave only a soft crinkling sound to show people were passing through the wood. It had graced the sides of Cloudhook Mountain for millennia. The moist climate of the Mountain's southern flank proved a perfect habitat for mosses that added their own decoration to the forest. Long streamers like green beards draped from branches gnarled by centuries of growth, and rounded mounds of deep green spread across the floor like carpeting.
Ethan noted a wealth of mushrooms sprouting in various areas through the wood. Ideas for a meal came to mind. “I'm getting a bit hungry. How about stopping for some lunch?”
Circumstance looked around the area where they stood. One of the things about an old pine forest is that the large trees are very selfish. They share their space with no one else. Consequentially, there was a lot of open space under the interlocking branches of the wood. A fallen giant, long stripped of its branches in decades past, lay in a diagonal to the right of them about ten yards away. Needles piled high against the sides of the log. Several wood ear mushrooms grew in small clusters close to the ground.
Ethan walked over to the log and picked a few of the Wood ears. He held them up before Circumstance. “Fancy a mushroom medley for lunch?”
The boy's smile was answer enough.
They cleared an area about twenty feet wide. A small cook fire is harmless only if the precautions to keep it from becoming a big one are taken. Ethan used his belt knife to dig a shallow pit for the fire, while Circumstance gathered kindling and larger branches of breakable size.
Once the pit was dug, Ethan stacked some of the branches into a pyramid shape with an opening for the placement of tinder, which would be some of the dry needles off the forest floor.
He put together a small bow with a green branch and a piece of thong. Wrapping it around a straight piece of deadfall, he then set the combination in place over a piece of bark dry enough to be used as tinder in its own right. Using the bow, he began spinning the wand back and forth while holding the tip against the piece of bark. Eventually, the friction would develop enough heat to ignite the bark. The only question was how long.
Circumstance squatted next to Ethan and watched him work at getting the fire going. “How long before we eat?”
Ethan grunted softly as he worked the bow back and forth. “Hard to tell. Could be a couple of minutes. Could be a while. You've got to learn patience if you're going to be living in the wild.”
“I see.” The boy extended a hand toward the firewood and it erupted into flame.
Ethan jumped back from the fire with a shout. “What the flick?!”
He turned to face Circumstance. “You did that. How?”
His answer was a shake of the head. “I don't know how. I just did it.”
“You ever do it before?”
Circumstance shook his head again. He seemed as startled over the display of power as Ethan was.
Ethan tried another tact. “How did it feel? Was it another one of those urges you talked about?”
Circumstance looked puzzled and somewhat overwhelmed all at the same time. “Kind of like that ... I guess. I don't know, not for sure.”
A part of Ethan stuck to the practical and he fed the fire while the other part of him explored the deepening mystery that was Circumstance. “Try to describe it,” he urged.
The boy pursed his lips in thought. “Uh ... it was like I had to do it. You were taking so long getting the fire started and I was getting hungry for some of those roasted mushrooms you suggested. Something in me told me all I had to do to start the fire was reach out and make it burn.”
“Um hmm.” Ethan nodded. “Clear as mud,” he thought. If this lad was growing into a wizard, he'd have little need for a worn out swordsman tagging along.
“I still don't know how I did it.” Circumstance looked at his hand with puzzlement in his eye.
Ethan put another piece of branch onto the fire and shrugged. Just another piece added to the puzzle. “That's a question you'll have to answer for yourself, lad. The fire's ready. You made sure of that. Shall we get to those mushrooms?”
* * * *
Drinaugh woke on the second day of his jo
urney to find himself surrounded by wolves. The pack was a large one, with several pups standing close by their mothers.
One wolf, obviously the pack leader, stepped cautiously forward, away from the ring of his packmates, and sniffed the young Dragon.
Drinaugh's experience with wolves was limited only to study and theory in Dragonglade. That, and his size removed any reason to fear the pack that stood before him.
“Hello.” He said in the language of wolves. “I'm called Drinaugh. Who are you?”
The pack leader sniffed the young Dragon. “I smell you, Drinaugh. Are you one of those that rule the sky? The old legends tell of your type. You do not smell like a cub eater.”
Drinaugh huffed. “Of course not! I'm a Dragon. Dragons do not eat other animals.”
The pack leader opened his mouth in a Wolf grin. He left his thoughts concerning plant eaters unsaid.
“A young one.” He considered. “What brings a cub of your type to our woods, young sky lord?”
“I search,” began Drinaugh, and then he changed his emphasis. “I must find ... my two-legged friend.”
The pack, as one, stepped in closer. The Alpha Wolf's eyes glinted. He sat on his haunches and cocked his head at Drinaugh. “Tell me about your friend two legs.”
Drinaugh was glad to tell the wolf about Adam. “He is the first two legs I ever met. He is also a Wizard. We have shared food together many times. He taught me much.”
The wolf turned back toward the pack and looked at the young Dragon over his shoulder. “We know this two legs. He is one of our pack. We will go with you, and see him ourselves.”
“How do you know him?” Drinaugh asked. “And how can a human Wizard be a member of a wolf pack?”
The pack leader did not turn to look at Drinaugh, but his answer came to the Dragon's ears. “He has learned the way of the hunt, and has followed the path of blood. He is both wolf and human. He is our friend, too. He is Bright Eye.”
Drinaugh stood and shook off the last of the logy feeling from his night's sleep. The only drawback he could see from accepting the Wolf's offer of assistance was that wolves couldn't fly. It looked like he'd was going to be doing a lot of walking from here on out.
* * * *
Thaylli had no idea her pack, which had seemed so light when she left the outskirts of her village and walked down the mountain to the Wayfarer Hut, could have somehow trebled its weight without her adding anything to it.
Also, the wild, once a place of wonder to her on her camping trips with her father and brothers, had now become a sinister abode of dark shadows and suspicious forms.
Her feet hurt as she trudged along the path and her water was almost gone. That knowledge made her even thirstier. She lifted the nearly flaccid bag and shook it. The sound was discouraging.
Behind her, Cloudhook's peak gleamed pink in the light of the setting sun. She had to find a safe place to camp for the night, and she also had to find water.
Emotions tore at her with opposing force. Part of her wished she could give up and return to her nice warm bed in her safe little village. She imagined she could smell her mother's cooking, and she could hear the little tune mum would hum as she cooked supper to the calls of the night birds.
The other part of her said she couldn't go back now. It would be too embarrassing, besides that little tramp Saichele would be there, smirking at her whenever she turned around. Momma would look hurt, and Poppa would yell and turn red in the face.
“Ohhhhh, bother you, Adam! Why did you have to go off and make me go through all this trouble?” The wilderness didn't answer back.
The sky grew darker and she jumped, letting out a small scream when a Lunar Moth fluttered past her ear.
The ground leveled out into a plateau for a space. The tops of some trees showed at its end. She quickened her pace, heedless of the complaints her feet sent her. She did not want to be caught in the open when full night fell.
She almost sobbed with relief when she heard the sound of running water. The face of the plateau slanted downward at a comfortable angle, so she was able to make it to the bottom without taking a tumble.
The trees welcomed her into their grouping with silent regard and she sank to the needle coated ground thankfully. Rushing to the protection of the grove had exhausted her, and she fell back against her pack, using it as a pillow. The water bag could be filled in the morning. Sleep soon overcame her and she had no knowledge of the various small animals that visited her in the night.
* * * *
“Those mushrooms sure were good.”
“You said that yesterday. A lot.” Ethan looked down at Circumstance as they worked their way out onto a ledge that led to a long flat plateau on the eastern side of Cloudhook's southern flank. The lip of the plateau stood a mere hundred feet above a plain that extended eastward from the mountain as far as the eye could see.
Circumstance hugged the side of the mountain as he edged his way onto a wider part of the ledge. The plateau sat just another yard to his right. “Well. It's true, isn't it?” he said, with the implacable logic of the young.
“Yes,” Ethan sighed. “I suppose so. Are you telling me you want some more?” He edged past the same narrow spot the boy had traversed and onto the wider section.
“No, I guess not. I just like the memory, I suppose.” Circumstance stood on the plateau and held his hand out to Ethan. “Here. Let me help you.”
Ethan took the boy's hand. “Thanks. I'm not too proud to accept help where it's warranted. Deity, but that's a narrow path. Why'd we have to go that way? Another one of your feelings?”
“Yes,” was Circumstance's answer, as he turned and began walking toward the lip of the plateau.
Ethan followed the half-elven boy to the edge of the plateau and looked out at the plain beyond. “There's something going on down there.”
“Yes.”
“This what your feeling's pointing to?” Ethan rubbed some of the ache from clinging to the rock face out of his palms.
Circumstance sat down and dangled his feet over the edge. “I got a strong one about finding somebody down there. I didn't get it until I saw the men.” He pointed at the tiny figures on the plain below them.
“Uh hmm.” Ethan grunted. He knew an army camp being set up when he saw one. The question he wanted answered was whose was it, and what was it doing here. The City-States hadn't put together a force larger than a few hundred men in over a hundred years. Aside from a few skirmishes like the one between Spu and Avern a few years ago, the land had been peaceful. A knot of worry started up in the back of his mind.
He turned and walked back toward a stand of Beech and Alder that grew against the shelter of the mountainside. “We may as well make camp here in the trees. We'll get some protection if it rains, at least. If you still want to, we can check out what's going on down there tomorrow.”
“Ok.” The boy stood and sent one last longing look at the activity below him. The tug felt stronger now. He had to be down there. Everything depended on it. Somehow he knew that, as surely as he knew the sun would rise in the morning. Would Ethan understand? He could feel his adopted father's concern. Then the thought struck him. He'd called Ethan his adopted father! It had always been just Ethan before. Maybe it was because he had the feeling he'd never see him or his mother again.
“You coming?” Ethan's voice came out of the trees. Circumstance could smell smoke. Ethan had gotten a fire going sooner this time. Maybe there were some mushrooms to be found in the trees.
The sounds of voices shouting roused them at dawn. Bits of red sky showed through the mixed Alder and Beech leaves overhead. Ethan raised himself onto an elbow and looked in the direction of the plateau's edge. “It sounds as if they're on our back porch,” he grumbled.
“I'm going to go look at them.” Circumstance stood and pulled his bedroll blanket around his shoulders. The thick wool was a good barrier against the early morning's chill.
Ethan stood with the boy, still wrapped in his
bedroll. “Let's not rush into things. Those fellows we saw yesterday had the look of an army about them. We don't know whose army they are. We may not want to know.”
“I'm only going to look.” The boy pushed his way through the trees and out onto the plateau flat. Once out of the trees, the sounds coming from below were much clearer. It did sound as if they were doing things right at the base of where they were camped.
At the plateau's lip, he saw a city of sandy brown tents spread out to the horizon in all directions. The area covered had to be larger than two Berggrens. Men were everywhere. The shouting was coming from the base of the plateau where a hut stood. A man with a red sash across his chest was yelling into a cone-shaped thing at a bunch of other men working at removing things from the backs of large freight wagons with ox teams hitched to their fronts.
“They're from the south,” Ethan said, from behind him.
Circumstance looked up at him. “How can you tell?” He asked.
“The oxen. If this is the beginning of an army base, as I suspect, then they have to be from the south. All the northern cities use mules for their freight teams.”
“Why?”
Ethan smiled down at the half-elf boy. “Don't know. It never crossed my mind to find out the reason, but mark me; the difference is there. You can be sure these folk are Southern.”
“Oh.” Circumstance turned back to watching the supervising engineer call out his directions to the teamsters unloading the freight. “Are they dangerous?”
Ethan knelt beside the boy. “That's the real question, isn't it? I don't know. I've heard stories ... some about how the South's the last bit of the real Labadian Empire left, with all it's culture, learning and the like still intact. The others whisper about human sacrifice to pagan gods, and even worse things. Those men down there,” he nodded at the bustling camp below. “They don't look like baby killers to me.”
He stood back up and looked down at Circumstance. “I promised you it'd be your decision. Decide.”