Pity.
The rainfall grew heavier. It’s funny how little I notice weather in the City; but it just doesn’t matter that much. A little bit of sorcery will keep the rain off, and then I’m at the office, or wherever I’m going. Here it was different; most of us had the sorcerous ability to keep the rain off our heads, but that did nothing for the road, and you can only keep up a spell like that for a certain amount of time before you start to get brainfatigued, and then it can slip and you can lose control of the energy. It would be humiliating to fry your brain because a Verra-be-damned umbrella spell got out of control.
Worse for a Dragonlord, though, because he’d be likely to show up in the Paths of the Dead and have to explain just how he Got It.
The Paths of the Dead.
I remembered them, then, as I was walking; I remembered thinking I’d never find my way out, and then saving myself, and Aliera, and Morrolan, with a homemade bit of witchcraft I hadn’t known I could perform. And where were Morrolan and Aliera now? Probably snug and dry in Castle Black, waiting to teleport to wherever we ended up, while my boots went flllp flllp in the mud.
But it was my choice, and I knew I’d feel better when we made contact with Fornia’s army and I did something nasty and disruptive to it. Maybe only one or two things, then I could bug out.
Yeah … .
“Boss, you’ve got to let the spell go.”
I wanted to argue with him, but there’s no point in having a familiar if you don’t let him do his job. “Okay, thanks,” I told him, and got wet. Looking at the line of march, I was pleased to see I’d held mine longer than many of them. I also knew that there would be some brain-fry casualties from this march; I wondered if that was one of the things calculated out by Sethra when she planned her campaigns: “Well, we’re going to lose one percent every day to brain-fry if the weather’s bad … .”
“You’re right, Loiosh. My mind is getting numb.”
“Soggy, too, Boss.”
“You’re not as funny as you think you are.”
We stopped then—this one an official rest, as opposed to waiting for a mud-stuck wagon. I gratefully took off my gear, unfolded the stool Aelburr had made me, and sat down.
“We’re bound for interesting country,” said Virt.
I looked around; it was plain, and flat, with never a hill and hardly a tree to break up the terrain. “It is?”
“Well, this is good ground to fight on, but that isn’t what I mean. I mean we’re moving toward a hilly area, and it makes me wonder if Sethra plans to bring us directly into a fight or if we’re reserves, because if we’re reserves, I’d expect us to start heading north soon.”
“Well, I know we’re in the van.”
“You do? How?”
“Morrolan told me. That’s why I’m assigned to this company.”
She looked at me as if waiting for me to go on.
“Boss!”
“Bloody death, Loiosh. I am brain-tired, aren’t I?” “Never mind,” I told Virt. “I’ve already said too much.”
“All right.”
“I’m not a spy, though.”
“I didn’t think you were,” she said. “And I pretty much assumed that you weren’t along just as a soldier.”
“Yeah.”
“But we’re in the van, are we? Then, at a guess, we won’t have more than a two-day march. Three, maybe, if the weather stays like this.”
“And then battle?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. Will you be around for the fighting?”
I looked at her and knew what she was thinking—was I going to be sharing the danger, or was I just along for the ride and would bug out as soon as they went into battle. The answer, of course, was that I intended to bug out.
“I’ll be there,” I told her.
She nodded.
The bloody damn juice-drum again, and I stood up, refolded the stool, and eventually we moved out. The rain gave a last burst, then tapered off to a drizzle.
“Can’t Morrolan’s sorcerers do something about the rain?” I said.
“Chances are they just did.”
I grunted. “Took them long enough.”
“You’re starting to sound like Napper.”
Napper gave her a quick glare. I said, “I’m starting to understand him.”
He gave no indication that he wanted to be understood.
I said, “I’ve been given to understand that bitching is the universal right of soldiers.”
She laughed briefly, though I didn’t think it was funny. “Not in an elite corps,” she said.
“We’re an elite corps?”
“Didn’t you know?”
“How am I supposed to tell?” ,
“See any Teckla? See any conscripts?”
“Ah. Okay, I hadn’t known to look for them.”
“Well, there you have it. How do you feel, being part of an elite corps?”
“Bursting with pride,” I said.
“That’s the spirit.”
Napper snorted. The breeze picked up and I shivered, but the rain stopped completely soon after that, and I was able to perform a quick drying spell, and then I felt better.
We put a few miles behind us, then stopped where we were on the road and ate salted kethna, cheese, and biscuits. I ate three biscuits. They tasted much better after not eating a decent meal for a day.
“If this goes on long enough, Loiosh, I’ll have no more taste than you.”
“I weep bitter tears.”
“Reptiles don’t weep.”
“And we have other natural advantages, too.”
I filled a pocket with some extra biscuits to eat on the way. They weren’t all that bad, really, as long as you didn’t compare them to anything good.
The grey clouds that had gathered beneath the orange-red overcast were gone, and in the distance there were now a few hills to be seen. That meant we were probably climbing, very gradually, which realization made my legs tired. Periodically, the Captain would ride by on a horse, presumably to make us feel even more tired. I hadn’t seen much of horses before, and watching the Captain ride by while we kept trudging didn’t give me any great affection for them.
As the light failed the drums rattled, and we stopped and I watched the other three put up the tent, making certain to show me how the pieces fit together. Then we lit fires, ate an evening meal that was suspiciously like the one yesterday, and sat around in front of the fire. Rascha approached and said, “Aelburr and Vlad, first shift on picket duty tonight.”
“Okay,” said Aelburr.
“Vlad?”
“Yes?”
“Did you hear?”
“Yes.”
“Then acknowledge.”
“Sorry.”
Rascha moved on. I said, “How long does a shift last?”
“Two hours,” said Virt, “unless they decide we’re in imminent, in which case time doubles and personnel triples.”
“‘In imminent’?”
“In imminent danger.”
“Ah.”
“Which I don’t think we are.”
I looked an inquiry at Virt, who shrugged and said, “I doubt it.”
Aelburr stood up and buckled on his sword. I did the same. He led the way past the rows of tents to where we could just make out the banner in the fading light. Crown was there, and pairs would approach him to be sent off; to us he said, “North edge, forty yards out,” and pointed. Aelburr saluted and turned away. I also saluted, which earned me a glance I couldn’t read, then I went after Aelburr. But I was pleased; I’d finally gotten to salute.
“What do we do?” I said. “Stand in place like idiots or walk back and forth like morons?”
He gave a token chuckle. “Stand in place,” he said. “More or less, anyway. As long as we keep watching, and we don’t stray out of call, it shouldn’t matter much.”
We were out there for two hours, and nothing happened, but it was spooky. At first there was a hum of low con
versation from the camp, but that died fairly soon, and then it was quiet, and I was one of those guards whom I’d spent so much time figuring out ways of circumventing, or sometimes knocking out, or occasionally killing. All of those occasions presented themselves to my memory with a snicker of revenge. I wasn’t really worried, because Loiosh was there, but it was a position I didn’t enjoy being in. I tried to start a conversation, but Aelburr let me know that we were supposed to use our ears, and that if we were caught conversing Bad Things would happen.
“What does the military consider a Bad Thing?”
“Latrine duty.”
“Sold,” I said, and shut up for the rest of our shift. We were relieved right on time by a couple of soldiers I didn’t know and who didn’t seem interested in either conversation or latrine duty. I followed Aelburr to the tent, which I couldn’t have found on my own, and I climbed into my cot just an instant after I fell asleep.
Thirty hours later I got a practical demonstration of what “in imminent” meant. My feet were a day more sore, my legs a day more tired, and my spirits a day nastier. Virt seemed slightly amused at either my discomfort or my annoyance; Aelburr seemed lost in thought, and Napper, still scowling as before, appeared the only sane one of the lot of us. In any case, our entire tent was informed we’d be doing four hours of picket duty in the middle of the night, which made Virt nod sagaciously, Napper scowl menacingly, and Aelburr shrug philosophically. Then, an hour later, Rascha called me aside and informed me that I was excused and was not expected to do picket duty after all, and then she turned away before I could ask her why. I cursed under my breath.
“What is it, Boss? You enjoyed it so much last night that you want to do a double-shift tonight?”
“No, I just resent the implication that I’m not as reliable as anyone else.”
“Getting a bit touchy, are we?”
“Bug off.”
About then a mixed group of strangers—say a hundred of them—came rolling into camp on wagons pulled by horses. By mixed I mean I identified at least a couple of Vallista, and a few Teckla, and some Dragons. I looked an inquiry at Virt, who said, “Engineers.”
“Ah. What will they be engineering?”
“Defenses. Earthworks. Bulwarks. We’re apparently going to be required to hold this position.”
“This position? Where in blazes are we?”
“You’ll see the Eastern Mountains in the daylight.”
“Oh. I guess we made good time today.”
“We did at that.” I recalled Sethra’s plans, and then wished I hadn’t known them, because I suddenly got the impression that our entire company was a marker on a gameboard that she was going to be maneuvering around with no concern for the individuals who comprised it. In an effort to distract myself, I strained my eyes eastward, but in the failing light couldn’t see any mountain.
“We’re pretty high up, Boss; I can tell you that much.”
“How?”
“It’s noticeably harder to fly.”
“Why should it be harder to fly just because you’re starting higher?”
“That’s for you higher order animals to figure out; we avians just do our business on instinct.”
“You’re not an avian, you’re a reptile.”
“I still don’t know why it works that way.”
“If you had opposable thumbs you probably would.”
“You want to drop that opposable thumbs bit, Boss?”
I suddenly had the impression that there was something I’d meant to do, something I should be thinking about, something … oh. Right.
“Who is it?”
“Morrolan.”
“What do you want?”
“Aren’t you even going to thank me, Vlad?”
“For what?”
“There’s never been a soldier born who wasn’t grateful to get out of midnight guard duty.”
“I see. No, I don’t think I’m going to thank you. I take it this is a good night to act?”
“The Captain is expecting you, and I’ll be there.”
“On my way,” I said, relieved to know that I hadn’t been let out of picket duty because they didn’t trust me, and then annoyed with myself for caring.
I made my way through the camp toward where the Captain’s tent should be.
“This way, Boss.”
“thanks.”
It was very dark by this time, but I found it with Loiosh’s directions and by hearing the flap of the banner. Then I wandered around it like an idiot until I found the entrance. The worst part of this nonsense was that I kept finding myself doing things I wasn’t good at, and that meant looking stupid, in front of myself if no one else, and I’ve always hated that.
I clapped outside of the tent.
“Enter,” said the Captain, and at the same time I heard Morrolan’s voice: “Please come in.”
“Well,” I said, stepping in. “How pleasant that we should all run into each other here.”
“Sit down, Vlad,” said Morrolan.
I did so. I tried to read the expression on the Captain’s face, but I couldn’t quite make it out. But from the instant I’d stepped into the tent, things were different, and I think he sensed it: I was no longer one of his soldiers; now I was something else, though he wasn’t certain what. I suspect I enjoyed the sensation more than he did.
“Their nearest outpost is three miles northeast of us,” Morrolan began without preamble. “We can expect an attack tomorrow.”
“Which means I have things to do tonight.”
“Yes.”
“What, exactly, do you want?”
Morrolan said, “Captain?”
The Captain’s eyes widened, then he grunted, as if it all made sense to him now. “Let me think. We’re still planning … uh …”
“You may speak in front of Vlad.”
He grunted again. “We’re still planning a withdrawal to the southeast?”
“Yes.”
He considered some more, then said, “How much of his army are we facing?”
“About a third. We know another third is marching to reinforce, and he probably has a division that’s trying to move around our flank.”
“What if he decides not to attack? Maybe he’ll wait for the other divisions to arrive. Functionally, they’re an outpost; they’re losing a big part of their advantage right from the start if they launch an attack.”
“They may not; if they don’t, we’ll attack.”
The Captain shook his head. “We’re an advance guard. I don’t like the idea of attacking.”
“We won’t commit a great deal of force, just enough to encourage a counterattack.”
“Right. I know. But if they don’t counterattack?”
“We have sufficient force to overrun this outpost. If they won’t counterattack, we’ll take it and let them try to take it back from us. As far as Sethra is concerned, that’s just as good.”
“She’s the general.”
“Yes, she is. But, in any case, Fornia is very aggressive. Sethra thinks he’ll test us tomorrow.”
“All right. In that case, assuming he is planning a morning assault, anything that will delay it for even an hour or two would be useful. I’d like to give the engineers a little more time.”
Morrolan nodded and said, “Vlad?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know this work. How would I go about it?”
“There are a number of possibilities,” said Morrolan.
The Captain said, “Do you care if they identify it as sabotage right away?”
“All things being equal, it would be better if they didn’t, but that’s not a high priority.”
“Okay, then. What if you just went in and put holes in their water barrels? They’re going to need coffee, or at least water, before they go into action. That should set them back a bit.”
“Not very elegant,” I said. “But I should be able to do it.”
“I have a better idea,” said Morrolan, with a sudden
glint of humor in his eyes. “I believe you are going to like this, Vlad.”
“I’ll just bet,” I told him.
Thirty-four hours earlier I had been on picket duty, assigned to make sure no one could get in the camp unseen; now I was on the other side, trying to do exactly that. This side felt more natural to me, and my new sympathy with the opposition didn’t get in my way.
Loiosh flew overhead, keeping an eye out for exactly where they were stationed, as I moved slowly toward where I had been told the enemy was camped. My feet made no sounds, my grey cloak blended into the night, and in my left hand was a small rod that would alert me well before I crossed the line of any sort of detection spell.
“Anything, Loiosh?” I asked, just because the silence was hard on my nerves.
“Not yet, Boss.”
“Maybe they’ve packed up and left.”
“I’ll believe it if you will.”
Then, “Found ’em, Boss. Three of them, straight ahead of you.”
“I’ll bear to the left, then.”
“It’s clear that way.”
I kept moving, not too fast, avoiding any abrupt motions. Now I could see the embers of campfires, which not only gave me a target but made it harder for me to be spotted from within the camp. I remembered from last night that I’d only rarely looked back toward the camp; my attention had been focused outward. Still, I made certain not to stand between any of the fires and the picket spot Loiosh had identified.
There should have been an interior line of pickets as well, and there probably was, but I didn’t see them and they didn’t see me. Once I was in the camp it was easier; the fires had mostly burned down, and nearly everyone was asleep. I walked with confidence, as if I belonged there, and the few guards who were wandering around pretty much stared through me.
“Do you see their banner?”
“Forty yards, this way.”
I went that way. Light glowed from the overlarge tent to which Loiosh directed me, the flickering light of lamps. As I got closer I heard low voices—officers, no doubt, discussing plans for the morrow, when our “advance guard” would be “tested” by their “outpost.”
There was a guard posted right in front of the tent, a very inconvenient place. But that was all right.