A Journey of the Heart

  My stomach began to rumble in anticipation.

  "On our way back," said Lorin, "we followed the same trail we traveled yesterday. Soon after sunset we came across Breda's body. I can't imagine what he was doing there."

  Vintel told again the story we had heard from Laris. Then she pulled Breda's cloak aside and examined his body for wounds.

  "Someone put a knife in his back," Lorin said. He helped Vintel turn Breda over. Blood had soaked the back of Breda's tunic.

  "Where are his weapons?" Vintel asked.

  "Gone," said Lorin. "They're with whoever killed him."

  "And where are they?"

  Lorin shrugged. "We tried to read the signs, but it was too dark to make out much. Breda lay a dozen yards from the trail, and the bracken was trampled all around him. I'm of the opinion that those who killed him were going north, but Maara believes my judgment has been clouded by wishful thinking." He looked over at Maara and grinned.

  "What is your opinion?" Vintel asked my warrior.

  Maara looked up at her. "He was traveling south. So were his killers. They came upon him from behind. He knew they were there, and he was running from them. He ran for a long time, but at last they ran him down. All afternoon I had seen signs of many feet, running easily at a steady pace. Not long before we found Breda's body, they were running hard."

  Vintel turned to Lorin. "Did you see these signs?"

  "I wasn't paying much attention to the ground," Lorin said. "I was keeping an eye out for trouble."

  The smell of food brought everyone out of their sound sleep. I fed Maara and Lorin first, then shared the rest of the meat out among the warriors. The apprentices waited until the warriors were fed before crowding around the fire.

  While they waited for their turn to eat, Sparrow and a few others attended to Breda's body. They bound him up in his tattered cloak, a warrior's shroud, and set his body a little apart from the living. I wondered if we would bury Breda here on the frontier or if someone would take him home.

  Sparrow knelt beside me and took the knife from my hand.

  "Go and see to your warrior," she said. "I'll finish here."

  I found Maara already sleeping. Now that their hunger was satisfied, many of the warriors had settled themselves around the rekindled campfires and were talking quietly together. While I was curious to hear what they were saying, I was too tired to stay up and listen. I lay down beside Maara, spoke a word of thanks to the Mother for her safe return, and slept.

  Early the next afternoon, Laris and her band joined us. Donal and Kenit were among them, as well as Taia, Laris's apprentice. When Laris heard that yet another band of northerners had come, she tried to persuade Vintel to return to the safety of the cliffs, but Vintel was reluctant to camp so far from the trails the raiding parties would take when they came north again.

  I had remembered to ask Sparrow where the cliffs were. Not far west of us, along an ancient streambed, they rose steeply on either side, and high in the cliff walls were caves. The narrow trails that led to them could be defended by a very few. It was a good refuge when such a thing was needed, but a poor place from which to launch an attack against a raiding party.

  In the end we camped another night where we were, because the cart with our supplies didn't arrive until long after dark. I think Vintel would have let the oxen take the cart home by themselves and buried Breda where he lay, but Laris insisted that Breda's apprentice use the cart to bear Breda's body home to Merin's house before returning it to the farmer it had been borrowed from.

  That night Laris sat up late by her campfire, mourning her dead warrior. Maara watched from a distance as others approached her and offered her their sympathy. When Laris was alone again, Maara went to sit with her. They talked together for a little while. Then Maara returned to our fire.

  "What were you talking about?" I asked her.

  "We talked about Vintel," she said in a low voice. "About what Vintel intends to do. Laris disagrees with her. She fears the northerners are too many for us and that we should send for help before we commit ourselves to a fight."

  "Help from the farmers, or help from Merin's house?"

  "A day's travel to the east there is another outpost. If we had time to send for them, we might add another two dozen warriors to our number, provided they aren't busy with troubles of their own. But if we wait for them, the northerners may again gather their strength together, so Vintel may be wise not to wait."

  "You mean Vintel is right?"

  "I think she's right about that. What concerns me is how she plans to deal with them. If there are as many as Laris thinks there are, we might consider them a war party. Laris says it's something they do in times of hardship, and it's something we will often overlook, because they're willing to fight for what they need. But this time is different."

  "Because they killed Breda?"

  She nodded. "Vintel won't take it lightly. She shouldn't take it lightly, but I fear she may go too far."

  "Go too far? How?"

  "Breda is dead. That is beyond changing. Others are alive tonight who will put their lives at risk tomorrow. If more are to die, we must be certain that their blood buys something worthy of them."

  "What could be worthy of their lives?" I asked her.

  "A time of peace," she said.

  Maara took up a stick to prod the fire. Tonight her hand was steady. I remembered that the day before I had felt it tremble.

  "Have we anything to fear?" I asked her.

  "We have a great deal to fear."

  "From Vintel?"

  "No," she said. "Not now. Now Vintel needs us."

  That night I had haunted dreams. I was walking in the wilderness when I heard the tramp of many feet behind me, and I ran, with the sound of my pursuers close on my heels. A tangle of deadfall ensnared my legs. I felt their hands take hold of me.

  I started up out of my sleep, breathless and sweating. Maara lay awake beside me. When I spoke her name, she hushed me and turned over.

  Once more I awoke that night. My face was wet with tears. Still half-dreaming, I saw Breda, his boyish face gazing with delight at the fox-skin bag my warrior made, pleased with the beauty of it and with himself for having acquired it. I wrapped close around me the cloak he gave for it. Was this cloak his mother's gift that kept me warm that night? I pulled it over my head and wept for his mother's grief.

  The next day we moved our camp. Vintel chose a place that was a compromise, closer to the cliffs, but within striking distance of the trails the northerners must take when they returned. She sent no messengers to ask for help, only scouts to keep watch on the trails. That afternoon they brought us word that three raiding parties were returning north. Two carried wounded with them. Vintel chose to intercept those two. They would be burdened with their spoils, as well as with their wounded, and they were moving as fast as they were able, fearing pursuit more than what might lie ahead of them.

  Our warriors formed into two groups of roughly equal size, armed and armored, ready for a skirmish. Almost a dozen warriors were to remain in camp, held in reserve so that, if things went badly, they would be ready to help the others or cover our retreat to the cliffs. Maara was one of them. Although the thought of coming face to face with the northerners still frightened me, I resented being left behind.

  "Your turn will come," whispered Sparrow. Her eyes sparkled with excitement. With the other apprentices, she followed her warrior's band down the trail.

  37. Courage

  Late in the evening our warriors returned. We heard them coming long before they reached us.

  "That's a good sign," Maara said. "Victory is loud. Defeat is silent."

  Vintel's band arrived first. The warriors who had stayed behind joined them around the campfires to listen to their story. I was more interested in hearing what Sparrow had to say.

  "The fight was over almost before it started," she told me. She sounded disappointed. "Most of them dropped what they were carrying and ran. A few stood a
nd fought, but they didn't stand long against us."

  "What happened to the wounded they were carrying?"

  She shrugged. "I didn't see any wounded."

  "What will they do now?"

  "Go home, I hope."

  A little later Laris's band arrived. They had much the same tale to tell. Laris's warriors joined Vintel's around the fires, and the boasting about the day's feats of arms went on long into the night. Maara sat up with them for hours, listening.

  "Will the northerners go home now?" I asked her, when she finally came to bed.

  She shook her head. "They won't go home empty-handed."

  "What does Vintel think?"

  "I think Vintel is encouraging her warriors to enjoy their victory."

  Early the next morning, Vintel sent out scouts to see if any of our enemies remained nearby. In less than an hour two of them returned at a hard run, heedless of the noise they made. They didn't wait to speak to Vintel privately but blurted out their news as our warriors gathered around them.

  "They're encamped," said one. "Not far. No more than a dozen, caring for their wounded."

  "Breda's shield stands at the center of their camp," said the other.

  An angry murmur ran through the crowd. I felt the warriors' outrage and their eagerness to vent it. After their easy victory the day before, they were ready for another. I saw on more than one face a determination to redeem Breda's shield and take revenge upon his killers.

  Vintel stepped into their midst. "Are you all so determined to run headlong into the trap they've set for you?"

  "Would you leave them unmolested to bind their wounds?" said Pol. Though no longer young, Pol had a reputation for being hotheaded.

  "Rather than fall into their trap, I would prefer to set a trap for them," said Vintel. "Yesterday we had a victory, but yesterday is done. Today there is something new before us." She looked at the warriors gathered around her, at each one in turn, challenging them with her eyes. "Those who follow me today must do as I tell them or our plan will fail." She waited to see if anyone would challenge her leadership. No one did.

  "Their display of Breda's shield is meant to goad us, and their small number is meant to make us careless. The rest of them are not far off. When we attack these few, they'll break and run, to lure us into giving chase. If we do, they'll lead us into the main body of their warriors. We will be among them before we know it, and they'll be prepared to meet us. They will be disciplined, and we will be no more so than a pack of dogs after a rabbit."

  "What's the point of attacking them then, if we're not going to pursue them?" Pol complained.

  Vintel ignored him and turned to the scouts. "How many able-bodied are there?"

  "I counted eleven," said one.

  "Twelve," said the other.

  "And how many wounded?"

  "Many," said the first with satisfaction.

  Maara stepped forward. "There are no wounded in that camp."

  Vintel regarded her with annoyance. "How would you know that?"

  "Think," said Maara. "It makes no sense. Why would they leave their wounded in harm's way?"

  Now Vintel was listening.

  "When we attack their camp," Maara said, "their warriors will give ground, expecting us to ignore the wounded and pursue them."

  I didn't see Maara's point, but Vintel did.

  "And when we pursue their fleeing warriors," she said, "the wounded will be behind us."

  Maara nodded.

  "And if, as you say, they are not wounded but able-bodied, they will attack us from behind."

  Maara nodded again.

  "Clever," Vintel admitted. "Have you seen this trick before?"

  "The northerners are full of tricks," said Maara.

  "I think the northerners will find we're just as clever," Vintel said. Her eyes sparkled. She was enjoying this duel of wits as much as she was reputed to enjoy a duel of arms. "When their warriors fall back, those on the ground will be at a disadvantage, whether or not they're able-bodied."

  "Would you put them to the sword?" said Pol, who for all his hotheadedness sounded a bit horrified at the idea.

  "Not at all," Vintel said. "We'll take them alive before they know what's happening. Then we'll be the ones to fall back, and their warriors will have to pursue us. If there are more of them in hiding somewhere, we may draw them out. If they're foolish enough to chase us, we'll lead them into a trap of our own."

  "It might work," said Pol.

  "Will you lead the warriors who will lie in wait?" Vintel asked him.

  Pol nodded. He looked pleased at being honored with command.

  Laris bristled. "May I not lead my own band?"

  Vintel turned to her. "I want your band to come with me, to attack the camp. I need cool heads for this. Will you and your warriors follow me?"

  Laris nodded. She seemed well satisfied with that arrangement.

  Vintel turned back to the assembled warriors. "Yesterday you had the pleasure of watching your enemies flee from you. If you believe that they are cowards, I assure you they are not. They fled because they were at a disadvantage. Today they will meet us on their own terms, and you will find them as courageous as any warriors you've ever faced. If they run today, it will be because they have a plan. If you pursue them, you will have handed them the victory."

  This time no one would be left behind. Maara drew me aside.

  "Stay with the apprentices," she told me. "Stay away from the fighting, and stay well hidden. If the day goes against us, get yourself to the cliffs."

  Our scouts led us to the northerners' camp. We crept silently down a gully between lightly wooded hills. I was so busy trying to be quiet and keep my footing on the rocky hillside that I had no time to think about an encounter with the northerners. Then I smelled a whiff of smoke, and the first prickles of fear touched the back of my neck.

  As we drew near their camp, I caught glimpses of it through the trees. We stopped in a clearing from which we had a partial view of it. We were still well hidden, out of sight and earshot. Everything was as our scouts had said. The camp had open ground around it, enough to give the northerners warning of attack. We had seen no sentries, and no one had sounded an alarm, but if this was a trap our enemies had set for us, there would be no sentries posted.

  Vintel took Sparrow aside and spoke to her quietly, then gestured to the apprentices to stay where we were. We all understood that Vintel had left Sparrow in charge of us. Sparrow led us up the steep hillside to a place where a rocky ledge would conceal us from anyone coming up the hill.

  Sparrow scrambled up onto the ledge. I followed her. The rest of the apprentices found hiding places for themselves, where they could see without being seen. Side by side Sparrow and I lay on our stomachs and peered over the edge. Directly below us our warriors were gathered. Farther down the hillside the trees grew close together, with undergrowth beneath them that would provide good cover.

  From our vantage point we could see much of the northerners' camp, as well as the hillside rising steeply behind it, thickly wooded enough to conceal the warriors that Vintel believed were hiding there. Sparrow pointed it out to me, and I nodded that I understood.

  "It would be hard fighting," she whispered.

  "Yes." By now I knew enough about fighting to know that it was more difficult to fight going uphill than down.

  I studied the northerners with curiosity, surprised to see that they looked just like us. I might easily have mistaken them for a band of our own warriors, guarding the frontier. They looked relaxed and confident, as if they belonged there.

  Below us our warriors waited while Vintel and Pol put their heads together. Then Pol took his warriors farther down the hill. My warrior went with them, and I watched her out of sight. Her dark green cloak blended into the colors of the wood. I knew from my own experience that one might pass within a few feet of her and never know she was there.

  Vintel's band waited for Pol's warriors to get into position and conceal the
mselves. Then they made their way down the hillside. Soon they too disappeared from sight among the trees.

  The soft sounds of their passing faded. No bird sang. There was no wind. The northerners, unaware of danger, sat beside the smoking ashes of their fires. Sparrow lay still beside me. I wondered how she could remain so still. My own body was humming with excitement.

  A cry rang out, and every hair on my head stood up. More voices joined in the battle cry. The northerners, too stunned to move, sat frozen beside their fires. A few heartbeats later they began to stir. They got to their feet and gazed about them in surprise, as if this attack were not something they expected.

  Vintel burst into the clearing. Her sword raised high over her head, Laris and her band close on her heels, she ran at the man nearest her. Now the northerners found their voices. Shouting their own war cries, they drew their swords and took up their shields, but they had no time to brace themselves against the sudden force of the attack. For a few moments each one stood and fought. We heard no war cries then, only the clash of sword on shield. Suddenly the northern warriors broke and ran. Whether or not a retreat was part of their plan, there was nothing planned about their headlong flight from our warriors' swords.

  Sparrow nudged me and pointed to the edge of the clearing, where a woman lay wrapped in her cloak. I looked in time to see her throw her cloak aside and spring to her feet, sword in hand. When she saw her comrades in full flight, she hesitated only a moment before she turned and followed them.

  Now I understood the temptation to pursue a fleeing enemy. When I saw their backs, my legs began to twitch, and I could have dashed off after them myself. Vintel's warriors resisted the temptation. They fell upon the ones who still lay on the ground and quickly disarmed them. Some, like the woman we had seen, had already scrambled to their feet and run away, but our warriors captured at least four and withdrew with them into the shelter of the woods.

  I watched the hillside opposite, waiting for the northerners to burst out of their cover and charge down the hill to rescue their comrades. Nothing happened.