Nils turned his mount off the road, his remount and packhorse trailing behind, and rode to the trees. The leafy grove had a seep at its upper end, and Nils scooped a,, shallow basin, using the mud and stones to form a small birm on the downslope side. He filled his waterbag
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there, then let his horses drink, and after removing saddles and packs, and the bits from their mouths, hobbled them to let them graze.
Finally he built a small fire and set a marmot to roast. After eating, he bedded down beneath the pines and slept till sunup. It seemed like a good day to lay up and let his horses rest and graze. Meanwhile he loafed, napped, and meditated. Later he hiked out into the grassland to find and shoot another marmot.
That afternoon he heard a distant raven croak, the first he’d heard for weeks. Remembering Svartvinge as both friend and spy, he reached out and melded with the bird, gently enough that it wouldn’t realize. It had seen his horses and was coming to investigate. Also, something had imprinted it to watch for him.
Smoothly he withdrew his mind, and grabbing his weapons, crept beneath a thick bank of prostrate juniper, where he lay still.
An occasional harsh gr-r-rawk told him the bird had arrived overhead and was circling, surveying. Not only were there the horses to be seen, but the shelter tent. After a bit he heard it call again, once, twice, seemingly from a nearby tree, because the call was from the same place. Two years earlier, Nils had freely left his body and moved about, to spy on places which he couldn’t get to physically. He’d have done it now, too, but the ability was gone. Had been for most of that time—since Ilse had left. And knowing that the bird’s attention was on finding him, he did not meld with it again to see through its eyes; that would risk detection.
Instead he melded with one of the horses, and nudged it to look toward the woods. Seemingly the raven was hidden by treetops; at least he couldn’t see it. So he waited, holding the horse’s attention on the lower end of the woods. After two or three minutes he saw the bird rise above the trees, climbing easily into the afternoon sky to fly away southeastward. Horses and tent had attracted its suspicion, but it seemed to Nils that having failed to spot him, the raven had concluded that no
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human was there. Svartvinge would have concluded differently, but this bird was no elemental.
Nils napped some more then, under the junipers, and that evening set out by dusk for the road. After that he rode only by night, to avoid the ravens, and hid by day. Woods became increasingly frequent, and cover was no problem.
He saw as well by night as by day, for light played no part in his vision. Thus one night about midnight, he saw a great defensive wall in the distance ahead. It seemed to him it wasn’t manned, but nonetheless, at the next point where the terrain was reasonable, he turned aside and rode northeastward, crosscountry. He didn’t think about it and decide, he simply did it, as he did most things.
Riding crosscountry slowed him. There were steep pitches and rough terrain. The country was more forest than open and unlike their rider, the horses couldn’t see well in the night. But he didn’t second guess himself.
THIRTY
Fong felt more secure in his relationship to Kaidu than ever before, because Teb-Tengri was out of favor: The arrogant shaman had offended once too often. Nonetheless there was still a hostile factor that had influence with Kaidu: Achikh. After Nils had left, Fong had no difficulty reading Achikh telepathically. Thus he knew what Nils had told the warrior: that he, Fong, had put a spell on Kaidu, and manipulated his mind.
Achikh would surely tell his brother that, and while Kaidu might not believe it—in fact, Fong had seeded just that disbelief—others might readily be convinced. For there were more than a few who distrusted the emperor’s envoy, or were jealous of his obvious influence. And these men had their own influence with Kaidu. While Fong, in turn, had to leave Kaidu largely independent, self-determined, or the man would lose his force, his charisma and credibility.