Mercedes Lackey - Oathbreaker

"Well, that's a blessing, any -- "

"Scoutmaster?" came a plaintive call from outside the tent. "Be ye awake yet?"

"Who the bloody -- " Tarma scrambled for the lacings of the door flaps as Kethry hastily cut the spell about the door with two slashes of her hands and a muttered word.

"Get in here, child, before you turn into an ice lump!" Tarma hauled the half-frozen scout into their tent; the girl's brown eyes went round at the sight of the spell energy in the tent walls, wide and no little frightened. She looked like what she was, a mountain peasant; short, stocky and brown, round of face and eye. But she could stick to the back of her horse like a burr on a sheep, she was shrewd and quick, and nobody's fool. She was one of the Hawks Tarma had been thinking of when she'd mentioned other ways of keeping warm; Kyra was shieldmated to Rild, a mountain of a man who somehow managed to sit a horse as lightly as thin Tarma.

"Keth, this is Kyra, she's one of the new ones. Replaced Pawell when he went down." Tarma pushed the girl down onto her bedroll and stripped the sodden black cloak from her shoulders, hanging it to dry beside her own coat. "Kyra. don't look so green; you've seen Keth in the Healer's tent; this is just a bit of magic so we sleep more comfortable. Keth's better than a brazier, and I don't have to worry about her tipping over in the night!"

The girl swallowed hard, but looked a little less frightened. "Beg pardon, but I ain't seen much magery."

"I should think not, out in these hills. Not much call for it, nor money to pay for it. So -- spit it out; what brings you here, instead of curled up with that monster you call a shieldmate?"

The girl blushed brilliant red. "Na, Scoutmaster -- "

"Don't 'na' me, my girl. I may not play the game anymore, but I know the rules -- and before the Warrior put her Oath on me, I had my moments, though you children probably wouldn't think it to look at me, old stick that I am. Out with it -- something gone wrong with the pairing?"

"Eh, no! Naught like that -- I just been thinking. Couldn't get a look round before today; now seems I know this pass, like. Got kin a ways west, useta summer wi' 'cm. Cousins. If I'm aright, 'bout a day's ride west o' here. And there was always this rumor, see, there was this path up their way -- "

Tarma didn't bother to hide her excitement; she leaned forward on her elbows, feeling a growing internal certainty that what Kyra was about to reveal was vital.

" -- there was this story abaht the path, d'ye ken? The wild ones, the ponies, they used it. At weanin' time we'd go for 'em to harvest the foals, but some on 'em would allus get away -- well, tales said they used that path, that it went all the way through t'other side. D'ye take my meaning?"

"Warrior Bright, you bet I do, my girl!" Tarma jumped lithely to her feet, and pulled Kyra up after her. "Keth?"

"Right." Kethry made the slashing motions again, and the magic parted from the door flaps. "Wait a hair -- I don't want you two finding our answer and then catching your deaths."

Another pass of hands and a muttered verse sent water steaming up out of coat and cloak -- when Tarma pulled both off the centerpole they were dry to the touch.

Tarma flashed her partner a grin. "Thanks, milady. If you get sleepy, leave the door open for me, hey?"

Kethry gave a most unladylike snort. "As if I could sleep after this bit of news! I haven't been working with you for this long not to see what you saw -- "

"The end to the stalemate."

"You've said it. I'll be awake for hours on this one." Kethry settled herself with her blankets around her, then dismissed the magic altogether. The tent went dark and cold again, and Kethry relit her brazier with another muttered word. "I'll put that jesto-vath back up when you get back -- and make it fast! Or I may die of nerves instead of freezing to death!"

Back out into the cold and wet and dark they went, Kyra trailing along behind Tarma. She stayed right at Tarma's elbow, more a presence felt than anything seen, as Warrl, in mindtouch with Tarma, led both of them around washouts and the worst of the mud. Tarma's goal was the Captain's tent.

She knew full well it would be hours before Sewen and Idra saw their bedrolls; she'd given them the reports of her scouts just before rumbling her way to her own rest, and she knew they would still be trying to extract some bit of advantage out of the bleak word she'd left with them.

So Warrl led them to Idra's quarters; even in the storm-black it was the only tent not hard to find. Idra had her connections for some out-of-the-ordinary items, and after twenty years of leading the Hawks, there was no argument but that she had more than earned her little luxuries. There was a bright yellow mage-light shining like a miniature moon atop each of the poles that held up a canvas flap that served as a kind of sheltered porch for the sentry guarding the tent. Unlike Keth's dim little witchlight, these were bright enough to be seen for several feet even through the rain. If it had been reasonable weather, and if there had been any likelihood that the camp would be attacked, or that the commanders of the army would be sought out as targets, Idra's quarters would be indistinguishable from the rest of the Hawks'. But in weather like this -- Idra felt that being able to find her, quickly, took precedence over her own personal safety.

Idra's tent was about the size of two of the bivouac tents. The door flap was fastened down, but Tarma could see the front half of the tent glowing from more mage-lights within, and the yellow light cast shadows of Idra and Sewen against the canvas as they bent over the map-table, just as she'd left them.

Warrl was already moving into the wavering glow of the mage-lights. He was a good couple of horse-lengths in front of them, which was far enough that the sentry under that bit of sheltering canvas couldn't see Kyra and Tarma to challenge them -- at least not yet. No matter -- and no matter dial Warrl's black fur couldn't be seen in the rain even with the glow of the mage-lights on him. Warrl barked three times out of the storm, paused, then barked twice more. That was his password. Every man, woman, and noncombatant in the Hawks knew Warrl and Warrl's signal -- and knew that where Warrl was, Tarma was following after.

So by the time Tarma and Kyra had slogged the last few feet to the tent, the sentry was standing at ease, the door flap was unlaced, and Sewen was ready to hold it open for them against the wind. His muddy gray eyes were worried as he watched the two of them ease by him. Tarma knew what he was thinking; at this hour, any caller probably meant more trouble.

"I trust this isn't a social call," Idra said dryly, as they squeezed themselves inside and stood, dripping and blinking, in the glow of her mage-lights. The mage-lights only made her plain leather armor and breeches look the more worn and mundane.

"And I hope it isn't a disciplinary problem -- "

Kyra's autumnal eyes were even rounder than before; Tarma suppressed a chuckle. Kyra hadn't seen the Captain except to sign with her, and was patently in awe of her. "Captain, this is my new scout, Kyra -- "

"Replaced Pawell, didn't she?"

"Aye -- to make it short, she thinks she knows a way to come in behind Kelcrag."

"Great good gods!" Idra half rose off of her tall stool, then sank down again, with a look as though she'd been startled out of a doze.

Well, that certainly got their attention , Tarma thought, watching both Idra and her Second go from weary and discouraged to alert in the time it took to say the words.

"C'mere, kid," Sewen rumbled. He took Kyra's wool-clad elbow with a hard and callused hand that looked fit to crush the bones of her arm, and which Tarma knew from experience could safely keep a day-old chick sheltered across a furlong of rough ground. He pulled her over to the table in the center of the tent. "Y'read maps, no? Good. Here's us. Here's him. Report -- "