some rank, is all. Any time you come into a new situation,
you have to push a few people around to make everybody
else understand that you’re not going to put up with any foolishness.
Let’s get settled in.’
They had erected their tent and were gathering leaves and
moss for beds when Narstil stopped by. ‘I see you’re getting set
up, Ezek,’ he said to Caalador. His tone was conciliatory, though
not quite cordial.
‘A few finishing touches are about all that’s left,’ Caalador
replied.
‘You men make a good camp,’ Narstil noted.
‘A cluttered camp is the sign of a cluttered mind,’ Caalador
said.
shrugged. ‘i’m glad you stopped by, Narstil. We hear that
there’s an army camped out not far from here. Do they cause
you any problems?’
‘We’ve got an agreement with them,’ Narstil replied. ‘We
don’t steal from them, and they leave us alone. That’s not a real
army in Natayos, though. It’s more like a large band of rebels.
They want to overthrow the government.’
‘Doesn’t everybody?’
Narstil laughed. ‘Actually, having that mob in Natayos is very
good for my business. The fact that they’re all there keeps the
police out of this part of the jungle, and one of the reasons they
tolerate us is because we rob travelers, and that keeps people
from snooping around Natayos. We do a fairly brisk business
with them. They’re a ready market for just about everything we
steal.’
‘How far is this Natayos place from here?’
‘About ten miles. It’s an old ruin. Scarpa – he’s the one in
charge over there – moved in with his rebels a couple of years
back. He’s fortified it, and he’s bringing in more of his followers
every day. I don’t care much for him, but business is business.’
‘What’s he like?’
‘He’s crazy. Some days he’s so crazy that he bays at the moon.
He’s convinced that he’ll be emperor one day, and I expect it
won’t be long until he marches his rabble out of those ruins.
He’s fairly safe in this jungle, but just as soon as he gets out
into open country, the Atans will grind him into dog meat right
on the spot.’
‘Are we supposed to care about that?’ Bevier asked.
‘I personally couldn’t care less,’ Narstil assured the apparently
one-eyed ruffian. ‘it’s the loss of his business that concerns
me ‘
‘Can just anybody walk in and out of Natayos any time he
feels like it?’ Kalten asked as if only mildly curious.
‘if you’re leading a mule loaded down with food or drink,
they’ll welcome you with open arms. I send an ox-cart loaded
down with barrels of ale every few days. You know how soldiers
like their ale.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Kalten agreed. ‘i’ve known a few soldiers in my
time, and their whole world stops when somebody opens an
ale barrel.’
‘ It ‘doth derive from our ability to control the light which doth
emulate from us,’ Codon explained. ‘What we call sight is profoundly
influenced by light. The subterfuge is not perfect. Some
faint shimmers do appear, and we must be wary lest our
shadows reveal our presence, but with a certain care, we can be
unobserved. ‘
‘Now there are some interesting contrasts,’ Aphrael said. ‘The
Troll-Gods tamper with time, you tamper with light, and I tamper
with the attention of the people I want to hide from, but it’s
all an attempt to achieve some measure of invisibility.’
‘Knowest thou of any who can be truly invisible, Divine One?’
Xanetia asked.
‘I don’t. Do you, Cousin?’
Edaemus shook his head.
“We can come close, though,’ the Child Goddess said. ‘The
real thing would probably have drawbacks. It’s a very good idea,
Anari Codon, but I don’t want Xanetia to put herself in any kind
of danger. I love her too much for that.’
Xanetia flushed slightly, and then she gave Edaemus an
almost guilty look. Sephrenia laughed. ‘I must in honesty warn
thee, Edaemus,’ she said. ‘Guard well thy worshippers. My
Goddess is a notorious thief.’ She frowned thoughtfully. ‘if
Xanetia could go unobserved into Sepal, it could be very useful.
Her ability to reach into the thoughts of others would enable
her to discover in short order whether Ehlana’s there or not. If
she is, we can take steps. If not, we’ll know that Sepal’s just
another diversion.’
Codon looked at Edaemus. ‘I think, Beloved One, that we
must extend our involvement in the world around us further
than we had earlier planned. Anakha’s concern for the safety of
his wife doth take precedence in his mind o’er all else, and his
promise to us doth stand in peril until she be returned to him
safe and whole.’
Edaemus sighed. ‘it may be e’en as thou sayest, my Anari.
Though it doth make me unquiet, it would appear that we must
set aside our repugnance and join in the search for Anakha’s
wife, lending such aid as is within our power.’
‘Are you really sure you want to become involved in this
edaemus?’ APhrael asked him. ‘Really, really sure?’
I have said it, Aphrael.’
‘Aren’t you the least bit interested in why I’m so concerned
with the fate of a pair of Elenes? Elenes do have their own God,
you know. Why do you imagine that I’d be so interested in
them?’
‘Why is it ever thy wont to speak circuitously, Aphrael?’
‘Because I love to surprise people,’ she replied sweetly. ‘I
really do want to thank you for your concern about the well-being
of my mother and father, Cousin. You’ve touched me to the
very heart.’
He stared at her in stunned astonishment. ‘Thou didst not!’ he
gasped. ‘Somebody had to do it.’ She shrugged. ‘One of us had to keep
an eye on Bhelliom. Anakha is Bhelliom’s creature, but as long
as I have my hand around his heart, I can more or less control
the things he does.’
‘But they’re Elenes!’
‘Oh, grow up, Edaemus. Elene, Styric, Delphae – what difference
does it make? You can love all of them if your heart’s not
closed.’
‘But they eat pigs!’
‘I know,’ she shuddered. ‘Believe me, I know. It’s one of the
things I’ve been working on.’
Senga was a good-natured brigand whose racial origins were so
mixed that no one could really tell what he was. He grinned a
great deal, and he was loud and boisterous and had an infectious
laugh. Kalten liked him, and Senga appeared to have found a
kindred spirit in the Elene outlaw he knew as Col. He was laughing
as he came across Narstil’s cluttered compound where furniture
and other household goods were stacked in large, untidy
heaps on the bare ground. ‘Ho, Col!’ he shouted as he
approached the tree where Kalten, Caalador, and Bevier had
pitched their tent. ‘You should have come along. An ox-cart load
of ale opens every door in Natayos.’
‘Armies make me nervous, Senga,’ Kalten replied. ‘The
officers are always trying to enlist you – usually at sword-point
and generals as a group tend to be overly moralistic for my
taste. The term “martial law” makes my blood run cold for some
reason.’
‘Scarpa grew up in a tavern, my friend,’ Senga assured him,
‘and his mother was a whore, so he’s accustomed to the seamier
side of human nature.’
‘How did you make out?’ Kalten asked.
Senga grinned, rolled his eyes and jingled a heavy purse.
‘Well enough to make me consider giving up crime and opening
my own brewery. The only problem with that is the fact that
our friends at Natayos probably won’t be there all that much
longer. If I set up shop as a brewer and my customers all
marched off to get killed by the Atans, I’d probably have to
drink all that ale by myself, and nobody’s that thirsty.’
‘Oh? What makes you think those rebels are getting ready to
leave?’
‘Nothing very specific,’ Senga said, sprawling out on the
ground and offering Kalten his wineskin. ‘Scarpa’s been gone
for the past several weeks. He and two or three Elenes left
Natayos last month, and nobody I talked with knew where he
was going or why.’
Kalten carefully kept his expression disinterested. ‘I hear that
he’s crazy. Crazy men don’t need reasons for the things they
do or the places they go.’
‘Scarpa’s crazy enough, all right, but he can certainly whip
those rebels of his into a frenzy. When he decides to make a
speech, you’d better find a comfortable place to sit, because
you’re going to be there for six hours at least. Anyway, he went
off a while back, and his army was getting settled in for the
winter. That’s all changed now that he’s back.’
Kalten became very alert. ‘He’s come back?’
‘That he has, my friend. Here, give us a drink.’ Senga
took the wineskin and tipped it up, squirting a long stream of
wine into his mouth. Then he wiped his chin on the back of