friends thinking of taking up, Ezek?’ he asked.
‘We thought we might try our hand at highway robbery or
something along those lines,’ Caalador said. ‘You know, fresh
air, exercise, wholesome food, no policemen in the neighborhood that
sort of thing. We’ve got some fairly substantial prices
on our heads, and now that the Emperor’s disbanded Interior,
all the policing is being done by the Atans. Did you know that
you can’t bribe an Atan?’
Order nodded glumly. ‘Oh, yes,’ he said. ‘It’s shocking.’ He
squinted speculatively at ‘Ezek’, who appeared to be a middle-aged
Deiran. ‘Why don’t you describe Caalador to me, Ezek?
I’m not doubting your word, mind. It’s just that things are a
little topsy-turvy right now, what with all the policemen we
used to bribe either in jail or dead, so we all have to be careful.’
‘No offense taken at all, Order,’ Caalador assured him. ‘I
wouldn’t trust a man who wasn’t careful these days. Caalador’s
a Cammorian, and he’s got curly hair and a red face. He’s sort
of blocky – you know, big shoulders, thick neck, and a little
stout around the middle.’
Order’s eyes narrowed shrewdly. ‘What did he tell you?
Repeat his exact words.’
‘Wal, sir,’ Caalador replied, exaggerating the dialect just a bit,
‘Ol’ Caalador, he tole us t’ come down yore t’ Delo an’ look up
a feller name o’ Order – on accounta this yore Order, he’s
th’ one oz knows whut’s whut in the shadowy world o’ crime
herebouts.’
Order relaxed and laughed. ‘That’s Caalador, all right,’ he
said. ‘I knew you were telling me the truth before you’d said
three words.’
‘He certainly mangles the language,’ Caalador agreed. ‘He’s
not as stupid as he sounds, though.’
Kalten covered a smile with his hand.
‘Not by a darg sight, he ain’t,’ Order agreed, imitating the
dialect. ‘I think you’ll find that highway robbery isn’t very
profitable around here, Ezek, mainly because there aren’t that
many highways. It’s safe enough out in the jungle – not even
the Atans can find anybody in all that underbrush – but pickings
are slim. Three men alone in the bush won’t be able to make
ends meet. I think you’ll have to join one of the bands out there.
They make a fair living robbing isolated estates and raiding various
towns and villages. That takes quite a number of men, so
there are always job openings.’ He sat back and tapped one
finger thoughtfully against his chin. ‘Do you want to go a long
way from town?’ he asked.
‘The further out the better,’ Caalador replied.
‘Narstil’s operating down by the ruins of Natayos. I can
guarantee that the police won’t bother you there. A fellow
named Scarpa’s got an army stationed in the ruins. He’s a crazy
revolutionary who wants to overthrow the Tamul government.
Narstil has quite a few dealings with him. There’s some risk
involved, but there’s a lot of profit to be made in that
neighborhood. ‘
‘I think you’ve found just what we’re looking for, Order,’
Caalador said eagerly.
Kalten carefully let out a long sigh of relief. Order had come
up with the exact answer they’d been looking for without even
being prompted. If they joined this particular band of robbers,
they’d be close enough to Natayos to smell the smoke from the
chimneys, and that was a better stroke of luck than they’d even
dared to hope for.
‘I’ll tell you what, Ezek,’ Order said, ‘why don’t I write a
letter to Narstil introducing you and your friends?’
‘We’d definitely appreciate it, Order.’
‘But before I waste all that ink and paper, why don’t we have
a talk about how much you’re going to pay me to write that
letter?’
The Styric was wet and muddy and very nearly blue with the
cold. He was shivering so violently that his voice quavered as
he hailed their camp. ‘I have a message for you,’ he called.
‘Don’t get excited and do something foolish.’ He spoke in Elenic,
and that made Berit quite thankful, since his own Styric was not
all that good. It was the one major flaw in his disguise.
‘Come on in, neighbor,’ he called out to the miserable-looking
fellow at the upper end of the beach. ‘Just keep your hands out
in plain sight.’
‘Don’t order me around, Elene,’ the Styric snapped. ‘i’m the
one who’s giving the orders here.’
‘Deliver your message from right there then, neighbor,’ Berit
said coldly. ‘Take your time, if you want. I’m warm and dry in
here, so waiting while you make up your mind won’t be all that
unpleasant for me.’
‘It’s a written message,’ the man said in Styric. At least Berit
thought that was what he said.
‘Friend,’ Khalad said, stepping in quickly, ‘we’ve got a slightly
touchy situation here. There are all sorts of chances for misunderstandings,
so don’t make me nervous by talking in a language
I don’t understand. Sir Sparhawk here understands
Styric, but I don’t, and my knife in your belly will kill you just
as quick as his will. I’ll be very sorry afterward, of course, but
you’ll still be dead.’
‘Can I come in?’ the Styric asked, speaking in Elenic.
‘Come ahead, neighbor,’ Berit told him.
The lumpy-faced messenger approached the front of their
shelter, looking longingly at the fire.
“you really look uncomfortable, old boy,’ Berit noted.
‘Couldn’t you think of a spell to keep the rain off?’
The Styric ignored that. ‘i’m instructed to give you this,’ he
said, reaching inside his homespun smock and drawing out an
oilskin-covered packet.
Tell me what you’re going to do before you stick your hand
inside your clothes like that, neighbor,’ Berit cautioned him in
a low voice and squinting at him as he said it. ‘As my friend
just pointed out, we’ve got some wonderful opportunities for
misunderstandings here. Startling me when I’m this close to you
isn’t a good way to keep your guts on the inside.’
The Styric swallowed hard and stepped back as soon as Berit
took the packet.
‘Would you care for a slice of ham while my Lord Sparhawk
reads his mail, friend?’ Khalad offered. ‘It’s nice and greasy, so
it’ll lubricate your innards.’
The Styric shuddered, and his face took on a faintly nauseated
look.
‘There’s nothing quite like a few gobs of oozy pork-fat to slick
up a man’s gullet,’ Khalad told him cheerfully. ‘It must come
from all the garbage and half-rotten swill that pigs eat.’
The Styric made a retching sound.
‘You’ve delivered your message, neighbor Berit said coldly.
‘i’m sure you have someplace important to go, and we certainly
wouldn’t want to keep you.’
‘Are you sure you understand the message?’
‘I’ve read it. Elenes read very well. We’re not illiterates like
you Styrics. The message didn’t make me very happy, so it’s
not going to pay you to stay around.’
The Styric messenger backed away, his face apprehensive.
Then he turned and fled.
‘What does it say?’ Khalad asked.
Berit gently held the identifying lock of the Queen’s hair in
his hand. ‘It says that there’s been a change of plans. We’re
supposed to go on down past the Tamul Mountains and then
turn west. They want us to go to Sepal now.’
‘You’d better get word to Aphrael.’
There was a sudden, familiar little trill of pipes. The two young
men spun around quickly.
The Child Goddess sat cross-legged on Khalad’s blankets,
breathing a plaintive Styric melody into her many-chambered
pipes. ‘Why are you staring at me?’ she asked them. ‘I told you
I was going to look after you, didn’t I?’
‘is this really wise, Divine One?’ Berit asked her. ‘That Styric’s
no more than a few hundred yards away, you know, and he
can probably sense your presence.’
‘Not right now, he can’t,’ Aphrael smiled. ‘Right now he’s too
busy concentrating on keeping his stomach from turning inside
out. All that talk about pork-fat was really cruel, Khalad.’
‘Yes. I know.’
‘Did you have to be so graphic?’
‘I didn’t know you were around. What do you want us to do?’
‘Go to Sepal the way they told you to. I’ll get word to the
others.’ She paused. ‘What did you do to that ham, Khalad?’
she asked curiously. ‘You’ve actually managed to make it smell
almost edible.’
‘It’s probably the cloves,’ he shrugged. ‘Nobody’s really all
that fond of the taste of pork, when you get right down to it,
but my mother taught me that almost anything can be made
edible – if you use enough spices. You might want to keep that
in mind the next time you’re thinking about serving up a goat.’
She stuck her tongue out at him, and then she vanished.
`
CHAPTER 7
It was snowing in the mountains of Zemoch, a dry, brittle snow
that settled like a cloud of feathers in the dead calm air. It was
bitterly cold, and a huge cloud of steam hung like a low-lying