Dave Duncan - Mother of Lies

“Tell us why Saltaja was so certain you were dead.”

Dantio looked away. “It hurts to talk about it.”

The riverfolk were laying out the evening meal on the ground near the fire. The four Werists had begun showing interest. They would certainly insist on being served first.

Then Dantio said “O-oh! We have company!” and instantly had everyone’s attention. “Three boats… more… They’re going to make camp.”

“Orlad!” The Werists all jumped up.

“Orlad’s on his way back here,” Dantio said. “There’s no danger at the moment. They’re three bowshots downstream. I can’t make out much detail.”

“How many of them?” Snerfrik asked.

“A full hunt, maybe. Packleaders…” Dantio looked at Ingeld.

She sighed. “And Horold.”

He nodded.

“How many in a full hunt?” Fabia asked, certain she would not like the answer.

Many voices told her, “Four sixty.”

The odds were impossible. The sailors had noticed the alarm and were watching. Two more Werists emerged from the shrubbery-one fair, one dark. They, too, saw that there was something amiss. They came at a run. Everyone started telling Orlad about the danger.

“We should leave?” he asked his brother.

Surprisingly, Dantio laughed. “Leave? Leave? What sort of wimpy talk is that? I thought you brave fellows enjoyed a good fight?”

Fabia winced, half-expecting to see her eldest brother massacred by the youngest, and some of the Werists growled angrily at the slave’s mockery. Orlad did not, although he did not join in Dantio’s laughter. “So it’s true. You’ve been holding out on us! You sent word to Arbanerik already?”

“Oh, well done, Little Brother! Did you work that out or did Hero Waels?” Dantio’s grin flickered back and forth between the two Werists. “Mmm, thought so. Good man to have around, yes?”

Orlad scowled menacingly. “Get on with the story!”

Fabia wondered what was being hinted here. Seers could not read thoughts, only emotions, but if Orlad and Waels had been plotting something together, Dantio probably knew what.

“Yes, lord. High Timber is a couple of menzils up the Milky. When we camped in these islands three nights ago, Saltaja sent runners to Tryfors, but I swam across to Milk and spoke with New Dawn’s agent there. So, yes, a tablet was baked that night to be sent upriver in the morning.”

“Telling Arbanerik he could catch Saltaja if he attacked Tryfors?”

“Well done!” Dantio repeated. “He would have known she was coming, of course, because some of the men she lost on her journey passed through Milk a few days earlier. He should be ready by now. You’ve got the same idea I have. I don’t know his plans, but my hope is that he moved his army into position yesterday. The battle may have started already.”

“Not likely,” Orlad said.

“Why not?” For once the Witness was surprised.

It was Orlad’s turn to smirk. “Because nothing’s happening here yet. Even a Werist host cannot just leap into battle on a moment’s notice. It needs time to gather rations, make plans, issue orders. And think tactics! Arbanerik will certainly send a force down the Milky, to seize these islands and block off any escape by either Saltaja or Therek. There can’t be many places where Werists can close off the Wrogg. Also, if he has enough men, he’ll try to seize Nardalborg at the same time, and close that way out. So right now he’s either still on the move or he’s resting his men before hitting Tryfors, and perhaps Nardalborg, tonight.” He turned his hard, dark stare on Waels. “But how many will he send here, you suppose? A full hunt? More?”

Waels murmured, “Depends how many men he thinks he can spare, lord.”

“Can you see them, Witness?”

Dantio said, “No. But some of Horold’s men went upriver earlier. If they discover trouble in Tryfors, they’ll turn tail and come back to warn him. We certainly don’t want him to escape back to Kosord, and we don’t want him hitting Arbanerik from the rear.”

Tactics and strategy were flying almost too fast for Fabia to follow, and some of the Werists seemed to be laboring also. She dared not look at Ingeld, whose son and husband were going to be on the wrong side of the coming battle. The riverfolk had noticed the discussion and were drifting closer, hoping to eavesdrop.

Dantio sewed it up. “It would be very tidy if the forces of virtue and vengeance could hit Satrap Horold here before he strikes camp in the morning. Please arrange that, Flankleader.”

Orlad scowled. “If this New Dawn horde is on its way here, why don’t we sail up the Milky to meet them?”

“The riverfolk won’t try it in the dark. But you Heroes can see in the dark, can’t you? And run in the dark? Not you, brother. We need you here, and your skin would take too much explaining.”

Fabia expected Orlad to argue, but he just glanced over his men, who were all leering excitedly now.

“Namberson, Snerfrik, go and relieve Narg and Jungr at the boat. We’ll bring you some chow shortly. Hrothgat, Prok, you’re the best night runners. Witness, where do they go and what message do they deliver?”

Dantio said, “Cross to the east bank and head upstream to the junction, a bowshot or two. You’ll know the Milky by its color. Follow it upstream until you’re challenged-if you aren’t, you’ll reach High Timber itself before morning. The first password is ‘At night the gods weep blood.’ That should get you to the commander. Tell him ‘Dark eyes see farther than you can hear.’ That means you come from me.”

Hrothgat repeated the passwords. “And then tell him to shift his ass down here soonest?”

“Even faster. Tell him about Therek being dead. If they can catch Horold here and Saltaja in Tryfors, then the Stralg tyranny is ended on this Face. Remember that Horold is camped at the downstream end of the islands. We’re well upstream-we don’t want any mistakes.”

The eunuch was showing an astonishing ability to give orders to Werists, but now his eyes wandered, staring downstream again. “Even if he has seers with him…”

Orlad said, “What’s wrong?”

Dantio took a moment to answer. “I suggest you recover your palls, even if they’re not quite dry, then roll them up and hide them. Very few Witnesses have the range I do, but if Horold does have seers with him, he may ask them if there are other Werists nearby, and those stripes are distinctive. Otherwise, I still don’t think we’re in danger. They’re lighting fires, unloading supplies. No one’s scouting.”

His voice had changed, though. Fabia noticed that Horth, who could smell an untruth two menzils away, was studying Dantio narrowly. So was Benard. The disconcerting thing about Benard was that he was not scatterbrained all the time. She still dared not look at Ingeld.

Orlad nodded. “Waels, see to it. Any more, er… advice, Witness?” He actually smiled, too! Fabia thought of a flower bud opening to the sun.

“Just to remind the commander that the satrap usually travels with seers.”

“Hrothgat and Prok, proceed as instructed.”

Cloth ripped. Leaving a trail of rags behind them, two somethings plunged into the shrubbery and were gone, leaving Fabia with a vague impression of huge golden beasts running on all fours.

For a moment nobody spoke. The war had begun. By morning a major battle might be raging through this campground, and other places too. Fabia moved around the group to sit by Ingeld and offer what solace she could.

“Remember what Dantio said about Cutrath being more valuable as a hostage than a corpse. That’s still true.” It sounded weak even to her.

“But it will be much less true if my husband is killed tomorrow.”