“We have a standing order to kill them on sight and report the incursion to the nearest outpost.”
“That would mean Hellsbreath,” Giorge said. “We can’t go back there when we’re this close to the temple ruins, can we?”
Hobart frowned. “We’ll decide that after we kill them.”
“Wait,” Ortis said. “They don’t know we’re here. Why don’t we follow them to see if they go to the temple ruins? If they do, then we can attack them there, instead.”
“No,” Hobart said. “They will be ready with defenses.”
“They’ll be more alert if their expected party doesn’t arrive,” Giorge said. “Maybe we can sneak in?”
“No,” Hobart said. “We have our orders.”
“Hobart,” Giorge said. “We are not going back until we find out if The Tiger’s Eye is in that temple.”
“You can go on if you want,” Hobart said. “The rest of us are going back.”
“I’m not,” Ortis said. “I think we should let them go where they’re going and then decide if we should kill them or not. We will be able to report more accurate information if we know more about them.”
Hobart frowned, shook his head.
“How about this,” Angus said. “We follow them until we find out if they are going to the temple ruins, but attack them before they get there. Then we can investigate whether or not they have a stronghold there.”
“We have orders,” Hobart said.
“I’m not a soldier,” Angus said, “and neither are you.”
“Banners are subject to this order, Angus,” Hobart said. “It is part of the agreement that all of us made with the king in order to have our special status.”
“Do the orders say when we have to kill them?” Angus asked. “Is there a timeframe for how long we have to report their presence?”
Hobart frowned. “No,” he admitted. “The orders just say to kill fishmen on sight and report the incursion to the nearest garrison or outpost. We’ve seen them.”
“I haven’t,” Ortis said. “Neither have you or Angus. Giorge has seen something, but he doesn’t know what fishmen look like.”
“I could be wrong about how I described them,” Giorge offered. “It is dark among those trees.”
“You’re not wrong,” Hobart said, his jaw set firm, resolute. “They’re fishmen.”
“If we follow them,” Ortis said, “we will be able to find a better place to fight. Out here in these trees, it will be difficult to maneuver, and some of them may get away. If we can get them into a more open area, I can use my arrows to pick them off.”
“Perhaps some reconnaissance would be in order,” Hobart reluctantly admitted. “The more information we can provide Hellsbreath, the better it will be for them.”
“They’ll want to know where their lair is,” Angus suggested. “If we follow them, we might find that out.”
“What I don’t understand,” Ortis said, “is why they seem to be avoiding the river. I would think they would thrive there.”
“What do you mean?” Hobart asked. “We saw those fires, didn’t we?”
“We don’t know who sets those fires,” Ortis said. “But it isn’t this group; they travel back and forth from the north road to this west one. They don’t go anywhere near the river or the interior of the plateau.”
“What’s north of here?” Angus mused.
“Besides the mountain?” Giorge said. “Nothing, as far as we know.”
“Dwarves,” Angus corrected. “They are inside the mountain, and they are the ones arming the cat-things.”
“The fishmen, you mean,” Hobart said. “The cat-things are not armed.”
“These cat-things are not armed,” Angus corrected. “The others by the river may be.”
“What are you two getting at?” Hobart demanded.
“Only this,” Ortis said. “You have assumed the fires by the river were made by fishmen. We have not. There could be another reason for those fires that has nothing to do with the fishmen. We’d like to know what it could be. To find that out, we’ll need to talk with the fishmen. You and I both speak their language well enough to interrogate them, and we might find out what they’re doing here, where their lair is, how many there are—the normal range of information we might want to find out about an enemy.”
“The dwarves are involved, somehow,” Angus added. “How they are involved, we can’t say, but these mountains stretch north all the way to the Death Swamps. The fishmen could be getting safe passage from there to here through their tunnel system.”
“Why would the dwarves consort with them?” Hobart scoffed. “They’re honorable enough creatures.”
“Who were attacked by King Tyr’s ancestors,” Angus said. “They have long lives and even longer memories, and if it weren’t for the volcanoes, the Dwarf Wars would not have ended. Maybe they aren’t fond of having Hellsbreath nearby.”
“That would make sense,” Hobart said, “if we were still enemies. The dwarves have traded with us since King Duk’s reign, and we’ve been restrained allies ever since.”
“Restrained allies?” Angus chuckled. “A bit removed from being friends, then.”
Hobart frowned. “All right,” he said. “You’ve convinced me. We’ll follow them for now, but if they don’t lead us to the temple ruins, we attack.”
“Double watch tonight,” Ortis said. “We’re camping fairly close to them, and it might be a good idea to keep watch on them, as well as ourselves.”
9
It was a strange pursuit. The fishmen and cat-things were afoot; their pursuers were on horseback and could easily have overtaken them dozens of times. Instead, they slept in, Ortis hunted, and in the afternoon they rode at a light trot until they caught up with them again. On the third day, their pursuit changed: they ran out of trees.
The road rose rapidly out of the plateau, and the foliage dwindled and was replaced with bare rock and lichen-encrusted gray-green stone. They stayed near the last few trees for hours, watching their prey clamber up the slope, waiting for them to disappear into the valley beyond. It was late afternoon when they finally decided it was safe to follow after them, despite the lack of cover.
“I don’t like this,” Hobart said as the road worked its way toward a narrow cleft in the mountain that rose upward hundreds of feet above them. “If they want to ambush us, this would be an ideal spot for it.”
“There has been no indication they know we’re here,” Ortis said.
“That doesn’t matter,” Hobart grumbled. “If I had a stronghold up there, I would put guards at the top of this crack and have others waiting with drums of oil. When the enemy was within striking distance, I would spill the oil down this slope and light it on fire. It would be a deathtrap; there is nowhere to run.”
“Wouldn’t that make a mess?” Angus asked.
Hobart shrugged. “Killing is always messy,” he said. “It’s not for the squeamish.”
“It’s not artificial,” Giorge said.
“What?” Hobart asked.
“The crack,” he answered. “They didn’t carve it out; it’s a natural formation. They just took advantage of it. If there weren’t a road here, I doubt anyone would find it.”
“There is a road,” Hobart said. “And before that, someone did find it.”
“We’re nearing the top,” Ortis said. “Let’s cut down on the chatter, shall we?”
“What does it look like from up there?” Hobart asked, his voice subdued.
“Same as here,” Ortis quietly replied. “The road goes through this crack and then drops down. I don’t see any guards, though; they must not be expecting visitors.”
“If the other side is bare rock like this,” Angus said, “I’m not surprised. They will see us coming.”
“Who in their right mind would come up here, anyway?” Giorge added, grinning.
“They probably made camp,” Hobart suggested. “It’s dark enough for it, even with the half moon.”
“Yo
u’re right,” Ortis said. “I’m at the top, and I hear them moving around. They’re just over the lip of this ridge. I’ll try to move in closer.”
“Be careful,” Hobart said. “We’re still a quarter mile behind you.”
“And still talking,” Ortis added. “I can hear you, you know. And the horses; there’s an echo.”
Hobart looked like he was about to speak, but decided to nod instead. Then he held up his hand for them to stop. When they had, he dismounted and gestured for the others to do the same. Once they were all down, he whispered, “Let’s leave the horses here with Ortis; if we need them, he can bring them in a hurry.”
When they neared the top, they fell flat on their bellies and crawled up to where Ortis lay like a shadow. From their perch, they could see the road sloped sharply down into a cloistered valley, the floor of which was blanketed by an expanse of ripe grain. Nearly two miles away in the center of the valley, barely visible in the moonlight, was the rough, battered silhouette of a large, once-thriving complex. Although they couldn’t see any details, there was a fire blazing inside the ruins and occasional glimpses of movement.
The group they were pursuing, though, had decided not to continue to their stronghold, despite its proximity. Instead, the three fishmen had herded the cat-things into a tight circle about fifty yards ahead of them, still some distance from the edge of the grain. Once the cat-things were corralled, one of the fishmen isolated an individual and cut off its head with a swift strike of his axe. The rest of the cat-things howled, mewled, and tumbled over each other as they tried to get away from the fishmen, but none of them made