Sandev offered kind words, a shoulder to cry on for those recently bereaved and sometimes stole choca for them. In return, the six fed Sandev every scrap of information that came their way.
She had learned that the plan was for some "country out east" (as the sylphs put it) to attack Marka or her allies, and get a reaction. While Marka's forces were otherwise engaged, the Eldovans would fall on the city from the west and north with what was now a superior army. It sounded like an effective plan and Sandev desperately needed to send warning to Marka.
She felt a gentle touch on her arm.
"I'm sorry." Sandev hastily passed the pot to Gajaran. One of the orphans, she thought it unlikely the infertile enjoyed working for the sake of it. Sandev began washing the next pot.
The sylph dried the pot quickly and waited patiently for the next. Gajaran had lost her owner during the siege of Marka. Raw with grief, she had been handed over to Mirrin's group during the winter and now waited to return home. Like most infertiles, she looked eager to finish her chores.
There might be another reason why Gajaran wanted to finish quickly. The sylphs stepped warily around Sandev for the same reason they were frightened of Dervra and Nicolfer. They could sense the Gift flowing through her, even if the temporary block prevented her from using it. Sylphs avoided practitioners, whether sorcerers or those blessed with the Gift.
Gajaran stiffened as another sylph joined them. The newcomer carried two dirty plates which she washed herself. Shashi belonged to General Mirrin.
Plainly dressed in a work smock, no different from that other sylphs wore, she enjoyed as much influence among the sylphs here as Jenn did in Marcus Vintner's army. She wore a gold collar studded with several jewels, unlike the dull metal the camp sylphs wore.
"You might like to know that my owner expects Nicolfer tonight." Sympathy glittered in her eyes and her earpoints twitched.
"Thank you." Sandev saw no reason to be anything but polite to Shashi. Gold and jewels or not, she still wore a collar. And it was useful to know Nicolfer was due to return. She'd been gone two days. No sylph dared serve Nicolfer any longer than she must, so Sandev had learned almost nothing new about her captor.
Done with her chore, Shashi nodded and left them.
Gajaran glowered. "All right for her, she is safe with her owner."
Sandev shook her head. "Nobody is safe from Nicolfer," she replied.
Gajaran stiffened and her earpoints turned. "Whistles," she said. Something akin to rage flashed across her face.
Sandev tried not to smile. The sylphs had heard whistling off and on for the best part of the day, which meant Markan scouts had found them. Soldiers friendly to her were not far away. Sadly, she knew it was unlikely to be a very large Markan army. They were too far west. But whistling meant at least two scouts.
Many of the officers' sylphs already pointed towards the source of the whistling, which they had been doing for most of the day whenever they heard something their owners could not. Horsemen rode out, hoping to run the scouts down before they had chance to move out of harm's way.
"They will catch one of the dursanonecul soon or late." Gajaran did not point, but she could not hide her eagerness to see a scout captured. Her earpoints wilted.
The camp sylphs called the scouts dursanonecul: devils. They were terrified of the scouts, who were sylphs actively involved with an army. Gajaran especially reviled and feared sylph scouts, blaming them for her owner's death.
Both Nicolfer and Mirrin wanted to question a sylph scout. But to do that, they must first capture one.
Sandev hoped they never succeeded.
"They might never catch any," she murmured. Gajaran gave her a level look, the nearest Sandev ever got from an orphaned sylph to open disagreement.
Another stir ran through the camp.
"Nicolfer is here," breathed Sandev.
Gajaran's look grew more sympathetic.
Four men carried Nicolfer's sedan, which they set down outside her tent. Another of the sylph orphans stepped forward, but was curtly dismissed. Nicolfer stared around imperiously and her jet eyes glittered.
Sandev tried to remain unnoticed and, for once, Nicolfer did not call for her attendance. Usually harried all day and half the night, Sandev waited hand and foot on her captor. The sylphs disapproved – serving was their role – but they could do little except offer sympathy.
The dismissed sylph crossed to join Gajaran.
"Hello, Tula." Sandev smiled at the newcomer.
Dusk gathered around them.
"Pots done already?" asked Tula.
Gajaran nodded. "And the laundry. Some of it's not fit for burning. Why don't they...?" Her head came up. She and Tula looked at each other, then at Sandev.
"What?"
"Short whistle; very short." Tula stared into the darkness.
"Like he got stopped," added Gajaran, satisfaction in her tone. "Maybe caught." Her eyes were solemn for Sandev's benefit, but her earpoints lashed with unsuppressed glee.
"Surely not?" Sandev tried to peer into the surrounding forest, without success. Like everybody else, she was forced to wait until the riders returned.
The captive scout had been slung unceremoniously across a saddle before the rider. Sandev moved closer so she could see more than just a shape. Long legs – painted gray, green and brown – dangled down one side of the horse. As the horse turned, she saw black slashes of paint. Only younger scouts wore black as part of their camouflage scheme.
Her heart pounded. Surely not her sylph scout? They could not be so short of scouts to send Janin into the field?
A crowd of humans and sylphs gathered to watch the rider show off his prize.
"Firedrake trod on 'im," said the rider. "Even then, had he not squeaked, I'd not 'ave found 'im."
He lifted the upper end of the scout and let him slide from the horse. Unable to stand unsupported, the sylph collapsed and squealed in pain as he scrabbled in the dirt.
Gajaran looked at the captive and emotions flickered in her eyes. Sympathy was not among them. Most of the other sylphs looked at the moaning scout with a mixture of loathing and terror.
"That's a sylph scout?" General Mirrin looked inquisitively at the heap beside the horse. "With a broken leg?"
Sandev almost stepped forward, then felt pleased she had not moved. Nicolfer put her hands to both the sylph's legs. The unfortunate creature shrank back from her touch.
"Nothing broken," she said.
Sandev masked a sigh of relief. Sylph bones were light and extremely supple; even now she winced when she saw how far an arm or leg would bend. Broken limbs might be rare in sylphs, but when it happened, the bone rarely broke cleanly, instead splintering like green wood. The massive internal bleeding such breaks caused was usually fatal.
"Where did you find him, Camanda?" continued Mirrin.
"Closer than we'd like," said Camanda, the man who had captured the scout. "And it was pure luck we caught 'im."
"So you said." Mirrin gave a mirthless smile.
"Stake him out and I'll speak with him in the morning," continued Nicolfer. "Make sure he is secure."
Mirrin nodded to his yeoman. "See to it, Taved. Come, Shashi."
The yeoman gave orders and two men hammered a stake deep into the ground. The unfortunate scout found himself chained to it by a wrist and given water, but no food. The small crowd lost interest and melted away, though some sylphs lingered longer.
Once the humans were gone, the captive immediately began to look about. He gave the watching sylphs a savage, feral grin that drove most of them away.
"Beast." Gajaran sounded bitter. "He's in the best place for him now." She and Tula moved away.
Sandev stayed, if she kept her distance. A small smile turned her lips. Whatever had happened, this boy had not lost hope. Several soldiers watched the scout try repeatedly to uproot the stake. She doubted he would succeed; these stakes secured the tents against even gales.
At least it was not Janin
, though she suspected she knew who the Eldovans had caught.
Sandev waited until the guards moved further away, and everybody else had lost interest. She carefully picked her way towards him.
The scout's head swiveled toward her long before she thought she might be noticed, especially in darkness. Or perhaps he sensed her. His eyes glowed faintly in the gloom and grew brighter the nearer she came.
"Sandev-ya." The sylph inclined his head.
As he spoke, Sandev's suspicions were confirmed.
"Belaika?" Her voice almost squeaked. "You're the last scout I expected to get caught." She sensed his embarrassment.
"Lucky chance," he muttered.
"How's that leg?"
"Sore." Belaika's eyes glittered with wariness.
"Wish I could do something, but I'm trapped somehow."
"It is not broken." If anything, the scout sounded warier.
"Are you in contact with Marka? Can you get a message out?"
"I can try. Not in range of the city though, we moved too far west."
"Not tonight. Not yet. Any more scouts nearby?"
Belaika nodded, perhaps having exhausted his stock of words for tonight.
"I have information that must reach the city."
The scout nodded, but said nothing further.
Sandev gripped his shoulder. "Remember you have friends here."
***
Belaika's eyes betrayed nothing as he watched Sandev meander away. He remembered her, as she had helped with the plan to break an innocent man out of jail. But she served Marka's interest only, which meant he doubted if he could fully trust her. As always, it was best for a sylph to wait and see. If only he could lose the dull throb from his leg. He managed to make himself comfortable and, after a whistle – quickly acknowledged – to let the others know he was still alive, fell asleep.
***
As the evening deepened to night, Yochan listened as Fhionnen-y-Neffas reported to Dekran. They had not traveled far that day, the Eldovans moving slowly as they tried to corner a sylph scout. Successfully, they now knew. He watched his commander's reaction carefully and already formulated his own plans.
Being older, Yochan managed to hide his surprise better than Dekran, but the experienced bannerman knew they had lost their best scout. They must get him back, somehow.
Fhionnen held Dekran's gaze, not as easily intimidated as the other barely trained scouts. "Belaika is captured, donenya," he reported. "He is held by the enemy –"
"Yes, yes," interrupted Dekran, almost angrily, "I know what captured means."
Yochan saw Fhionnen's face go blank, though his earpoints shot upright in anger. Had the boy learned this defensive reaction before becoming a scout? He held himself surprisingly well as most sylphs wilted before a human's anger. Definitely a sylph with a past.
Yochan stepped forward before angry words were spoken. "Sir, I suggest we take him back before they try to get information from him."
Dekran ignored his sergeant. "You have more to tell me, Fhionnen?"
The sylph nodded. "Belaika is injured and cannot walk. Samel says they only caught him when a horse trod on him."
"Then we won't mount a rescue just yet."
"Sir –"
"No, Yochan. I'm aware of your foolish promise to the boy, but the needs of the hundred men under my command must come first."
Even so, Dekran looked a touch indecisive and Yochan did not blame him. Marcus would probably take a dim view of them losing his scout to the enemy, especially if he stayed lost.
"If an opportunity presents itself, I'll do something," continued Dekran. "For now, we're forced to move closer to our enemy and use our scouts more." The Lance Captain turned to Fhionnen. "Can Samel take over Belaika's task, or would you rather do it?"
Fhionnen's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. "Better if I do it," he replied.
"Summon Mezhen to take over from you."
"Se bata."
Yochan waited until the sylph had left the tent before turning to his commander.
"The game has grown more dangerous for our scouts," he said. "The Eldovans are learning to counter them."
Dekran stroked his chin before snatching his hand away. "They use their own sylphs to point towards the whistles," he murmured. "Then ours must move when Eldovans send out riders."
"Movement gives them away, sir. That's why Belaika stayed still and low when he saw the horse. Pure luck on their part. I can take two men and have –"
"No."
"I must protest, sir. We can snatch Belaika out of their hands tonight, before they make him more secure."
"Protest noted, Banner Sergeant. But there will be no rescue attempt until after a thorough assessment of that army. That's an order."
Offended, Yochan stiffened. "Se bata," he hissed.
He left Dekran's tent and looked across the few fires in the camp. Somewhere here were two men who used to be scouts, until sylphs replaced humans in the role. He doubted if their skills had deserted them. No rescue attempt. But Dekran wanted that thorough assessment done. As a dutiful bannerman, Yochan would ensure that task would begin tonight.
***
Belaika woke from a pleasant dream about flying just before dawn. His shoulders had stiffened, thanks to the chain that secured his wrists and his leg ached thanks to a heavy horse. He gave a feeble tug against the stake, but it held firm.
He glanced at the dried blood on his leg and wondered if it would support his weight. As he carefully felt around the injury, he heard a pinger telling him Fhionnen had replaced Samel as the nearest scout.
Unless Samel had got confused again, which would not surprise him.
Belaika wanted no trouble, so he decided against acknowledging the pinger. He doubted the sylphs in this camp were sympathetic towards him and they would know he had whistled. He hoped to keep safe through silence.
His night had been short. Now, with only a hint of light in the sky, the camp came back to life. Cooks prepared a meal while men struck tents and packed equipment away, all moving about in near silence. The Eldovans would move on soon, and Belaika overheard a sergeant saying he hoped they moved further and faster today.
A sense of unease crept over him and he glanced the other way. A pair of jet eyes, so dark he could not tell iris from pupil, met his gaze levelly. Those eyes belonged to a youngish looking woman with hair as dark as her eyes, who crouched before him. He held her gaze just long enough to show she could not intimidate him.
The woman caused his unease; he sensed she could manipulate the power used by both Gift and sorcery. He knew her, he had been asked to find her in Marka.
And she did intimidate him.
His heart pounded.
"Tell me your name." The woman forced a smile.
"Belaika." The sylph bit off the rest; better that these people never learned his owner's name. His earpoints twitched; deceit was not his strongest point.
"No owner? Most sylphs are proud to speak their owner's name, so why are you an exception? I am Nicolfer."
The scout swallowed nervously. He must be careful.
"Efforts to protect your owner's identity are futile, Belaika-y-Marcus; I know exactly who he is. And now I know who you are, the rest of your secrets are mine. Or will be."
What else did Nicolfer know about him? Bad enough that she knew him at all. His eyes focused beyond the human and the scout saw a female sylph stood behind her. Pretty, but she also looked to be in distress.
Nicolfer saw him switch his attention and gestured off-handedly. "This is Haema-y-Jinsla. She reads and writes musical notation."
A small frown crossed Belaika's face. Haema looked terrified and her earpoints were wilted.
"She has written down most of the whistles we heard yesterday. We know how they go." She pursed her lips and gave an imitation of Belaika's ping, only pitched for human ears and with the sounds all wrong. Another small smile. "Of course, we do not know what they mean." The smile was gone as if spat away. "W
hich is where we need your help."
Belaika's earpoints slanted forwards and were still. His mouth firmed. "I will not aid you." He had no idea what the whistle Nicolfer had demonstrated meant either. He looked at Haema, who stared at the ground.
"Oh good, you want to resist." Nicolfer made an almost apologetic gesture with her hands. "Let me see. Torture? Humiliation perhaps?" The small smile returned. "Many here would enjoy hearing you howl. You scouts have caused people so much trouble. They've lost friends because of sylph scouts. Some here have lost beloved owners. But I do so abhor violence against sylphs. Usually. A pity to damage such a fine example." She touched Belaika's cheek with a finger and he shrank back. "And such actions would reduce your ransom value."
Determination faded from his earpoints.
Nicolfer gave a delighted clap of her hands and a small giggle. "I know! Eleka. Of course."
"No!"
"Beautiful wife you have. Acid perhaps? Missing limbs? Would you like to return to that?"
Belaika snarled at his tormentor.
"Foolish boy." Nicolfer's jet eyes were hard. "Perhaps not Eleka. I'm sure you're not too bothered about your infertile daughters – cruel of you sylphs, that, and the relationship between you and humans could not work without them – but what about Callie and Sallie? Slow, painful deaths? Salafisa perhaps? Lovely gwerin, but I never did like them, far too intelligent. They see too deeply and say too much. Unlike you fullbloods, who see deeply and keep your mouths shut. She would suffer long, boy. I would bring the corpse for you to view what you caused. Yes, what you caused, by your own, stubborn stupidity."
"Ne! Dson an, dson san!"
Listening to the screamed epithets, Nicolfer sat back and giggled in pure delight. She had not expected so much pleasure today.
***
Belaika was not the only one awake early. The two human scouts Yochan had sent out woke him just before dawn and the three men conferred in whispers in his tent.
"Belaika is held in the center of the camp," explained the older scout, Felnar. "The perimeter is closely guarded, which means they learned lessons from our raids."
Udan, the second scout, nodded. "A sylph might slip past unnoticed, but we'd have no chance."
Even though the sylphs had replaced almost all the human scouts in Marcus's army, the lack of animosity from those forced to learn new skills had always surprised Yochan. What little bad feeling there had been had quickly faded. These two had been among the best scouts and had worked with Yochan for many years. Even they recognized the advantage of sylphs.