‘It’s a fairly standard strategy for light cavalry, Tynian,’
the young Cyrinic said modestly. “I came across it in my study of military history. Lamork barons used that ploy a number of times before they started building castles.’
“I know, but you actually suggested using women for bait. I think you’re just a little more worldly than you appear, my friend.’
Bevier blushed.
They followed after Kring at a somewhat slower pace, hindered by the wounded and the sorrowful line of horses carrying the dead. Kalten had a distant look on his face, and he seemed to be counting something up on his fingers.
‘What’s the trouble?’ Sparhawk asked him.
‘I’m trying to figure out just how much time we gained on Martel.’
“Not quite a day and a half,’ Talen said promptly. “A day and a third, actually. We’re about six or seven hours behind him now. We average about a league an hour. ‘
‘Twenty miles then,’ Kalten said. ‘You know, Sparhawk, if we rode all night tonight, we could be right inside his camp when the sun rises tomorrow. ‘
‘We’re not going to ride at night, Kalten. There’s something very unfriendly out there, and I’d rather not have it surprise us in the dark.’
They made camp at sunset, and after they had eaten Sparhawk and the others gathered in a large pavilion to consider their options.
‘We more or less know what we’re going to do, Sparhawk began. ‘Getting to the border shouldn’t be any problem. Kring’s going to lead his men away from his womenfolk anyway, so we’ll have most of the Peloi warriors with us for at least part of the way. That’s going to keep the Zemoch conventional forces at a distance, so we’ll be safe from them until we reach the border. It’s after we cross that line that we’ll run into trouble, and the key to that is Martel. We’re still going to have to push him to the point that he won’t have time to gather up Zemochs to stand in our way. ‘
‘Make up your mind, Sparhawk,’ Kalten said. ‘First you say we’re not going to ride at night, and then you say you’re going to push Martel.’
“We don’t have to be actually on top of him to push him, Kalten. As long as he thinks we’re close, he’ll start running. I think I’ll have a little talk with him while I’ve still got some daylight.’ He looked around. ‘I’ll need about a dozen candles,’ he said. Berit, would you mind?’
‘Of course not, Sir Sparhawk. ‘
“Set them up on this table – close together and all in a row. ‘ Sparhawk reached inside his surcoat and took out the Bhelliom again. He put it down on the table and laid a cloth over it to hide its seduction. When the lighted candles were in place, he uncovered the jewel and laid his ringed hands on it. ‘Blue-Rose,’ he commanded, ‘bring Khwaj to me!’
The stone grew hot under his hands again, and the glowing red spot appeared deep within its petals. cKhwaj!’
Sparhawk said sharply. ‘You know me. I will see the place where my enemy will sleep tonight. Make it appear in the fire, Khwaj. ~Now!’
The howl of anger was no longer a howl, but had diminished to a sullen whine. The candle flames lengthened, and their edges joined to form’ a solid sheet of bright yellow fire. The image appeared in the fire.
It was a small encampment, three tents only, and it lay in a grassy basin with a small lake at its centre. A grove of dark cedar trees stood across the lake from the camp, and a single camp-fire flickered in the lowering dusk at the centre of that half-circle of tents on the lake shore.
Sparhawk carefully fixed the details in his mind. ‘Take us closer to the fire, Khwaj.’ he barked. “Make it so that we can hear what is being said.’
The image changed as the apparent viewpoint drew nearer. Martel and the others sat around the fire, their faces gaunt with exhaustion. Sparhawk motioned to his friends, and they all leaned forward to listen.
“Where are they, Martel?’ Arissa was asking acidly.
‘Where are these brave Zemochs you counted on to protect us? Gathering wild flowers?’
“They’re diverting the Peloi, Princess,’ Martel replied.
‘Do you really want those savages to catch up with us? Don’t worry, Arissa. If your appetites are growing uncontrollable, I’ll lend you Adus. He doesn’t smell very nice, but that’s no great drawback where you’re concerned, is it?’
Her eyes blazed with sudden hatred, but Martel ignored her. ‘The Zemochs will hold off the Peloi,’ he said to Annias, ‘and unless Sparhawk’s been riding horses to death – which he’d never do – he’s still three days behind us. We don’t really need any Zemochs until we cross the border. That’s when I’ll want to find some of them to start laying traps for my dear brother and his friends.’
“Khwaj!’ Sparhawk said shortly, ‘make it so that they can hear me. ~Now!’
The candle flames flickered, then steadied again.
‘Awfully nice camp you have there, Martel,’ Sparhawk said in an offhand manner. ‘Are there any fish in the lake?’
‘Sparhawk!’ Martel gasped. “How can you reach this far?’
“Far, old boy? It’s not really all that far at all. I’m almost on top of you. If it’d been me, though, I’d have made camp in that cedar grove across the lake. There are whole races of people who want to kill you, brother mine, and it’s hardly safe to make camp right out in the open the way you have.’
Martel sprang to his feet. “Get the horses!’ he shouted to Adus.
‘Leaving so soon, Martel?’ Sparhawk asked mildly.
‘What a shame. I was so looking forward to meeting you face to face again. Ah well, no matter. I’ll see you first thing in the morning. I think we can both stand to wait that long.’ Sparhawk’s grin was vicious as he watched the five of them saddling their horses. Their movements were panicky, and their eyes darted about wildly. They clambered onto their mounts and bolted off towards the east at a dead run, flogging their horses unmercifully.
‘Come back, Martel,’ Sparhawk called after them. “You forgot your tents.’
*Chapter 23
The land of the Peloi was a vast , unfenced grassland which had never known the touch of the plough. The winds of late autumn swept that eternal grassland under a lowering sky, sighing a mournful dirge for summer. They rode eastward towards a high, rocky pinnacle out in the centre of the plain with their cloaks drawn tightly about them to ward off the arid chill, and with their mood made somber by the unending gloom.
They reached the rock pi’nnacle late that afternoon and found the land around it bustling with activity. Kring, who had gone on ahead to gather the Peloi, rode up to meet them, a rough bandage encircling his head.
‘What happened to you, friend Kring?’ Tynian asked.
‘There was some small dissatisfaction with Sir Bevier’s plan, I’m afraid,’ Kring replied ruefully. ‘One of the dissidents slipped up behind me.’
“I would never have thought Peloi warriors would attack from the rear. ‘
‘Of course they wouldn’t, but my attacker wasn’t a man. A Peloi woman of high rank sneaked around behind me and banged me on the head with a cooking pot. ‘
“I hope you had her suitably punished.
“I couldn’t really do that, friend Tynian. She’s my own sister. Our mother would never have forgiven me if I’d had the little brat flogged. None of the women liked Bevier’s idea at all, but my sister was the only one who dared to reprimand me about it.
Are your womenfolk concerned about their own safety?’
Bevier asked him.
‘Of course not. They’re as brave as lionesses. What does concern them is the fact that one of them will be placed in charge of this women’s camp. Peloi women are very sensitive about status. All the menfolk thought your plan was a splendid idea, but the women -‘ He spread his hands helplessly. “What man can ever understand a woman?’ He squared his shoulders then and got down to business. ‘I’ve put my sub-chiefs to work on organizing the camp here. We’ll leave a minimal force, and all the rest of us will make some show of riding towards the Zemoch border as if we planned to invade. From time to time at night we’ll detach forces to sneak back here and take up positions in the surrounding hills to wait for the Zemochs.
You’ll all ride along and slip away when we get near the border. ‘
‘A very sound plan, friend Kring,’ Tynian approved.
“I sort of thought so myself,’ Kring grinned. “Come along, my friends. I’ll take you to the tents of my clan.
We’re roasting a span of oxen for supper. We’ll take salt together and talk of affairs.’ He seemed to think of something. ‘Friend Stragen,’ he said, “you know the Tamul woman Mirtai better than our other friends do. Is she at all gifted in the art of cooking?’