Fools Quest, Page 54

  The one he called Hogen did not so much as turn his head. Instead he picked up his sword and awkwardly levered himself upright again. Without a glance at the shouting man, he limped over to the horses. He checked their picket line, looking into the forest as if he was expecting someone. Then he gimped off toward a fallen tree whose dead branches protruded above the snow. He waded slowly through the unbroken snow until he reached it. He began to attempt to break more firewood from it. He was working one-handed as he leaned on his sword for support. No. Not his sword. My sword. With a start of recognition, I knew the blade as the one that had hung over the mantel in my estate study for so long. Now it served as a crutch for a Chalcedean mercenary.

  “Answer me-e-e-e!” the old man was roaring at the soldier, who paid him not a whit of attention. After a moment he ceased his yelling. He stood still, chest heaving in frustration, and stalked over to the fire. He opened gnarled hands to it, then threw another piece of firewood onto it. There was a leather bag on the ground by the fire. He rummaged through it and drew out a stick of dried meat. He stared at the soldier as he bit it savagely. “When you come back to this fire, I’m going to kill you. I’m going to run my sword through your guts, you traitorous coward! Then let’s see you ignore me. ” He took a deep breath and roared, “I am your commander!”

  I unslung my battle-axe from my back and hefted it. Then, stepping softly but not hiding, I crossed the unbroken snow into their camp. The old man was so intent on shouting Chalcedean obscenities at the soldier that he did not see me until I was almost within axe range. Obviously he was not accustomed to being ignored or disobeyed. An officer then. When he glimpsed me, startled, he shouted a warning to Hogen. I shifted a glance that way. Hogen did not behave as if he’d heard him at all. The old soldier swung his gaze back to me. I met his gaze. I did not make a sound.

  “You can see me!”

  I gave him a nod and a smile.

  “I am not a ghost!” he announced.

  I shrugged at him. “Not yet,” I said softly. I hefted the axe meaningfully.

  “Hogen!” he roared. “To me! To me!”

  Hogen went on wrestling with a branch, working it back and forth in a vain attempt to break it free from the fallen tree. I widened my smile.

  The old man drew his sword. I found myself looking at the point of Verity’s sword. I had never seen it from that vantage. My uncle’s sword, his last gift to me, carried by me for many years. And now it threatened me. I stepped back. I’d happily chop the man to pieces, but I wanted nothing to mar that fine blade. My apparent retreat lit sparks in the man’s eyes. “Coward!” he shouted at me.

  I breathed the words to him. “You raided my home. That’s my blade you are holding. You took a woman and a little girl from my home. I want them back. ”

  It infuriated him that I whispered. He scowled, trying to make out my words, then shouted, “Hogen!”

  I spoke softer than the wind. “I don’t think he hears you. I don’t think he sees you. ” I threw down my wild guess. “I think their magic-man has made you invisible to him. ”

  His mouth sagged open for an instant and then he clapped it shut. That barb had struck true. “I’ll kill you!” he vowed.

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  I shook my head at him. “Where are they? The ones you stole from me. ” I breathed my question at him, moving silently sideways, and his eyes tracked me. He kept his sword at the ready. How good was he? I wondered. I gauged his age and how stiffly he moved.

  “Dead! Dead or run away with the others. ” He turned his head and shouted, “Hogen!”

  My smile became mostly teeth. I stooped and seized a handful of snow. I crushed it into a ball and threw it at him. He dodged, but not fast enough. It hit his shoulder. He was stiff. And slow.

  He took a step toward me, sword at the ready. “Stand and fight!” he demanded.

  I’d maneuvered to the far side of the tent, out of Hogen’s view. The old man moved slowly, keeping his eyes on me and his weapon up. I rested my axe on the snow for a moment, to see if I could tempt him to charge me, but he kept his place. With one hand on my axe, I drew my knife and stuck the blade into the canvas of his tent. I dragged a long cut in it and watched it sag. “Stop that!” he roared as he saw his shelter destroyed. “Stand and fight like a man!” I glanced at Hogen. He was cursing and fighting with the tree branch, completely oblivious to us.

  I widened my cut in the tent. The old man advanced farther. I stooped and reached in through the cut and began to drag his supplies out into the snow. I found a sack of food. I seized it by the bottom and soundlessly flung the contents wide into the deeper snow. I kept one eye on him as I reached in, groped, and found a bedroll. I dragged it out and threw it.

  My behavior was frustrating him. “Hogen!” He actually screamed the man’s name. “An intruder raids our camp! Will you do nothing?” With an angry glance at me, he suddenly veered and began to stump off toward Hogen. Not what I wanted.

  Axe down, knife sheathed. I stripped off my gloves, then took out my sling and the carefully selected stones that went with it. Nice round stones. A sling makes a sound, but not a loud one. The old man was shouting as he went. I hoped it would cover the whirling of my sling. I hoped I could still hit with it. I threaded the loop over my finger, set the stone in the pouch, and gripped the other knotted end of the cord. I swung it and then gave the snap that sent my missile flying. It missed. “You missed!” the old man shouted and tried to hurry. I chose another stone. Launched it. It went winging through the trees.

  Hogen was trudging back to the camp, awkwardly, using my wall-sword as a crutch and gripping the ends of several branches under his arm as he dragged them back to the fire. My third stone struck a tree trunk with a loud thwack! Hogen turned toward the sound and stared. The old man followed his gaze and then turned to look at me. And my fourth stone glanced off the side of his head.

  He went down, half-stunned. Hogen had resumed his trek toward the camp, dragging his firewood. He passed an arm’s length from his fallen leader and never once looked aside at him. Using the tent for cover, I slipped toward the forest and circled the camp. My prey had fallen onto his back in the deep snow. He was thrashing feebly, disoriented but not unconscious. Hogen had his back to us. He had dropped his branches near the fire and was examining the slashed tent and scattered supplies in consternation. I raced toward the downed man.

  He was struggling to sit up when I dived on him. He gave a wordless cry and groped for the sword. Wrong tactic. I was inside the range of it and I let all my frustration power my fists. I hit him hard in the jaw, and his eyes went unfocused. Before he could recover I rolled him facedown in the snow. I caught one of his flailing hands and took a tight wrap around his wrist with the sling cord. I had to set my knee between his shoulder blades and struggle before I could catch and control his other arm. He was old and half-stunned, but also tough and fighting for his life. When I finally controlled his other arm, I took two tight loops of the sling cord around it at the elbow and then bound it as tightly as I could to his other wrist. Elegant it was not, but I hoped it was as uncomfortable as it looked. I checked my knots, and then rolled him onto his back on top of his bound arms. I picked up Verity’s sword, seized him by the back of his collar, and dragged him kicking through the snow. He came to himself enough to shout obscenities at me and call me, with absolute truth, several different varieties of bastard. I welcomed his shouting. While Hogen was unable to respond to it, it might mask whatever small sounds I made as I panted and heaved to haul him well away from the camp.

  I stopped when I could no longer see the tent or the campfire. I let go of him and stood, my hands on my knees, catching my breath. I tried to judge how much time I had alone with him. The other mercenaries might be returning. Or might not, if they’d encountered the Ringhill Guard. Riddle, Lant, and Perseverance might be coming. Or they might not. It was entirely possible that they’d chosen to follow
the direct road to Salter’s Deep. I evicted these thoughts from my mind and crouched in the snow next to my captive. I pushed my Wit-awareness down. I did so reluctantly, knowing it would leave me more vulnerable to stealth attack. Yet it was essential that I quench shared sensations to be able to do what I needed to do.

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  “Now. We are going to have a conversation. It can be friendly, or it can be very painful. I want you to tell me everything you know about the pale folk. I want to know all about the day you invaded my home. Most of all, I want to know about the woman and the girl that you took from my home. ”

  He cursed me again, but not in a very inventive way. When I wearied of it, I scooped a great handful of snow and pushed it into his face. He sputtered and shouted, and I added more until he grew silent. I sat back on my heels. He shook his head and dislodged some of it. Some had melted and was running down his wet red cheeks. “That doesn’t look comfortable. Would you like to talk to me now?” He lifted his head and shoulders as if he would sit up. I pushed him back down and shook my head at him. “No. Stay as you are. Tell me what you know. ”

  “When my men return, they will cut you to ribbons. Slowly. ”

  I shook my head. I spoke Chalcedean. “They won’t return. Half lie dead in that camp. The one you have left can’t hear or see you. Any that fled have run into the Buck troops by now. Or if they made it to Salter’s Deep, they found that the ship has been moved. Would you like to live? Tell me about the captives you took from my home. ”

  I stood up. I set the point of Verity’s sword in the soft spot just below his sternum. I leaned on it, not hard enough to make it penetrate the fur and wool he wore but hard enough to hurt. He kicked his feet wildly and yelled a bit. Then, abruptly, he went limp in the snow and glared at me. He folded his lips stubbornly.

  I was unimpressed. “If you won’t talk to me, you’re useless. I’ll finish you now, and go after Hogen. ”

  The crow cawed loudly overhead and then suddenly swooped down to perch on my shoulder. She cocked her head and stared down at my captive with one bright black eye. “Red snow!” she rejoiced.

  I smiled and tipped my head toward her. “I think she may be hungry. Shall we give her a finger to start with?”

  Motley sidled closer to my head. “Eye! Eye! Eye!” she suggested rapturously.

  I tried not to show how unnerving that was for me. I had not taken my weight off the sword. The tip of it was slowly and inexorably nudging its way through the layers of clothing that protected him. I watched the corners of his eyes and the set of his mouth. I saw him swallow, and in the instant before he tried to roll out from under it, I kicked him as hard as I could just where his ribs ended in the softness of his belly. The sword sank through clothing and into flesh. I did not let it go too deep. “Don’t. ” My word was a pleasant warning.

  I leaned over him, Verity’s sword still in his wound, and made a suggestion. “Now. Start at the very beginning. Tell me how you were hired and for what. As long as you are talking, I won’t hurt you. When you stop talking, I will hurt you. A lot. Begin. ”

  I watched his eyes. His glance darted once to the camp. Once to the crow. He had nothing. He licked his chapped lips and spoke slowly. I knew he was trying to gain time for himself. I had no objections.

  “It began with a message. Almost a year ago. A pale messenger came to me. We were surprised. We could not decide how he knew where to find our camp. But he had found us. He came with an offer of a great deal of gold if I would perform a service for people who called themselves the Servants. They were from a distant country. I asked how these faraway people had heard of me, and he told me that I had figured in many prophecies in their religion. He said they had seen my future, and over and over they had seen that if I did as they willed, not only did great good come to them, but I achieved the power that I had rightfully earned. In their prophecies I was a figure of change. If I did what they asked, I would change the future of the world. ”

  He paused. Obviously, he had been flattered by such claims and perhaps expected that I would be impressed. He waited. I stared at him. Perhaps I jiggled the sword a tiny bit.

  He grunted breathlessly. I smiled at him and he resumed. “He assured me that helping them with their task would put me on the path to glory and power. The path. They spoke so often of ‘the path. ’ He came with funds, asking me to bring a picked force of men and come with him to a port in the Pirate Isles. There he had an army of soothsayers and visionaries, ones who could guide us to success because they could foretell what would be our best tactic. They could pick ‘the one path of many’ that would best lead us to success. And he hinted then that they had with them a very special person, one who could make it impossible for us to be seen or tracked. ”

  I heard the sounds of a hatchet working on firewood. The lad had finally found a tool. The crow had moved to perch in a tree over my captive. She cawed at him derisively.

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  “And you believed that?”

  He looked at me almost defiantly. “It was true. They showed us when we traveled to the Pirate Isles. He made one of my men forget where the door to the room was. He made another forget his own name. They put food on the table, hid it from us, and then revealed it again. We were amazed. They had a ship and a crew there. They gave us the gold they had promised us just for coming to speak with them. They promised that if we helped them find the Unexpected Son, they would give us more gold, much more. ” He scowled darkly.

  “Only one part I disliked. The one who bargained with us in the Pirate Isles was a woman. We had not expected that. The messenger they sent first was a man. Then when we were shown the man who could do the magic, he was a soft and pudgy creature, one who quivered and cowered at the woman’s commands. This made no sense to us. Why would a man of such power not do as he wished in the world?”

  I wondered that myself but did not speak.

  “I am cold,” he said into my silence. “As you said, I am old. And I have not eaten since yesterday. ”

  “It’s a hard world. Imagine being a child torn open by a rapist. I have as much mercy for you as you had for her. ”

  “I did nothing to a child!”

  “You allowed it to happen. You were the commander. ”

  “It was not my doing. Have you ever been in battle? A thousand things happen at once. ”

  “It was not a battle. It was a raid against an unguarded home. And you stole a little girl. My child. And a woman who was under my protection. ”

  “Heh. You blame me when you were the one who failed to protect them. ”

  “That’s true. ” I eased the sword a finger’s breadth deeper into his chest, and he shrieked out loud. “I don’t like to be reminded of that,” I told him. “Why don’t you go on with your story? About how proud Chalcedean soldiers sold themselves like whores for gold to be the servants of a woman and a soft man?”

  He said nothing, and I turned the sword slightly in his chest. He made a sound as if he would vomit.

  “I am not just any commander, not just any man!” He drew breath, and I eased the sword slightly from its burrow. Blood welled. He bent his head to see it and began to pant. “I am Ellik. I was second only to the Duke of Chalced when he sat his throne. He promised me that I would follow him in ruling Chalced. I was to be Duke Ellik of Chalced. Then the damned dragons came. And his whore of a daughter, she who was given to me by her father, turned against her own people and proclaimed herself duchess! She squats on my rightful throne! And that is why I sell my sword. So I can regain what is rightfully mine! That is what they saw, those pale prophets and soothsayers! It will come to pass. ”

  “You are boring me. ” I squatted next to him, put my sword aside, and took out my knife. I held it up and studied it. Long and sharp. I caught the winter light on the blade and tilted it so it traveled. “So. The woman and the child. ”

  He panted for a time.
I made a gesture with my knife and he shook his head wildly. He gasped in air and spoke in short bursts. “We came on a ship. We hid with our weapons as her crew brought her into port. We thought there would be questions … at the docks, tariffs and … demands. But there was nothing. It was as if we were not there at all. The soft man led us … and we trooped off the ship and … off-loaded the horses and … rode off through the town. And not a head turned toward us. We were like ghosts. Even when we all began to laugh … and even to shout at the people on the street. No one saw us. ”

  For an instant his eyes rolled up, showing too much white. Had I gone too far? The blood from the sword-hole seeped and darkened his shirt. He gave another gasp and looked at me.

  “She told us where to go. The boy kept us hidden. We soon chafed with it. We stole the sleighs and the teams. The pale folk knew exactly where to find them. We passed through towns unseen: fat, rich towns. So much we could have done—taken. But that woman, always saying no. And no. And no. And each time, to my men, I said no. And they obeyed. But they thought less of me. And less. And I felt … odd. ”

  He paused and for a time he was silent, breathing noisily through his nose. “I’m cold,” he said again.

  “Talk. ”

  “We could have taken anything. Could have gone to Buckkeep. Taken the crown off your king’s head if that boy had been ours to rule. We could have gone back to Chalced and walked in and killed that whore who squats on my throne. If the boy favored us over her. My men knew that. We spoke of it. But I could not do it. We just did as she told us. So we went to that place, that big house. ” He moved his eyes without shifting his head to look up at me. “It was your home, wasn’t it? Your holding?” He licked his lips, and for a moment avarice shone in his eyes. “It was rich. Fat for the taking. We left so much. Good horses. The brandy kegs. ‘Take only the son,’ she said. And we obeyed like slaves. We took the boy and his maidservant and turned back toward our ship. Moving through your land like sneaking cowards. ”

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  He blinked. His face was getting paler. I found I didn’t care.

  “Then I knew. She was using the boy on me. Clouding my mind. To make me weak. To enslave me! So I waited. And we planned. There were times when my mind was clear, when the boy was using his magic on others. So I waited until the magic-boy was away from her and me. I knew it would happen. And while he was with them, not thinking of controlling me, I confronted that woman. I put her in her place, and I took her magic-boy from her. It was easy. I told my men what to say to him, and he believed us. The next day, we tested him. We raided the town, in broad daylight, with no challenge from the inhabitants. We simply told Vindeliar it was what the woman wished him to do. To enjoy himself for that one day. To take whatever he wanted in the town, to eat whatever he wished. He asked us if it were his true path now. We told him it was. It was so easy. He was foolish, almost simple. He believed us. ”