It was nearing dusk when the first of the trackers came into sight. Waylander hunkered down behind a boulder and waited until he heard the men slithering down the slope. At the bottom, by the bodies, they began to argue among themselves. He could not follow the debate, but at least one of the men used the Sathuli word for circle. They were angry and tired, and one sat down on the tree wall, flinging down his bow.
Waylander watched them dispassionately. Once more they had two choices: either continue to follow the circle towards the south, or retrace their steps back up the slope. If they moved south he would chance the open valleys to Gothir lands.
If north he would have to kill them.
They talked on for almost an hour. The light was beginning to fail. The warrior who had flung down his bow cleared away a section of snow and built a fire. The others hunkered down around it. Once the flames were high they added wet pine needles to the blaze, a thick, oily smoke rising to the darkening sky.
Waylander cursed and eased back from the crest. They’re calling for more help,’ he told the uncomprehending hound. ‘But from where – north or south? Or both?’ Scar cocked his head and licked at Waylander’s hand. ‘We’ll have to run for it, boy, and take our chances.’
Rising, he moved silently towards the south, the hound beside him.
*
‘It makes no sense,’ said Asten, his voice trembling despite his attempts to remain calm. Karnak chuckled and thumped the angry General on the shoulder. ‘You worry too much, old lad. Look, the Gothir are ready to invade as soon as the Ventrians land. They are not going to risk attacking Delnoch – they’ve made a deal with the Sathuli Lord. Well, I can make deals too. And if we stop the Gothir then we can use all our forces against the Ventrians and crush them in a single battle.’
‘That’s all well and good, Karnak, but why does it have to be you that rides into Sathuli lands? It’s madness!’
‘Galen assures me we have safe conduct.’
‘Pah!’ sneered Asten. ‘I wouldn’t believe that walking snake if he told me the sun shines in the summer-time. Why can’t you see it?’
‘See what?’ countered Karnak. ‘See that you and he are not exactly bosom friends? It matters nothing. You are a fine leader of men, while his talent for duplicity and deceit is invaluable. I don’t need my officers to like one another, Asten, but you carry your dislike to extremes that affect your judgement.’
Asten reddened, but took a deep breath before he replied. ‘As you say, I am a good leader – no false modesty – but I am not, and never will be, a charismatic leader. I cannot raise morale to the heights you can. You are vital to us, and now you are planning to ride into Sathuli lands with a mere twenty men! They hate us, Karnak – you most of all. Before the Vagrian War you led two legions into their territory and crushed their army. Kashti’s teeth, man, you killed the present lord’s father!’
‘Ancient history!’ snapped Karnak. They are a warrior race. They understand the nature of battle.’
‘The risk is too great,’ said Asten wearily, knowing he had lost.
Karnak grinned. ‘Risk? Gods, man, that’s what I live for! To look into the eye of the beast, to feel its breath upon my face. What are we if we face no dangers? Frail flesh and bone to live and age and die. I’ll ride into those mountains with my twenty men, I’ll beard the Sathuli lord in his own den, and I’ll win him over. The Gothir will not reach the Sentran Plain, and the Drenai will be secure. Isn’t that a risk worth taking?’
‘Aye,’ stormed Asten. ‘It’s a risk I would willingly take. But then the Drenai can afford to lose old Asten, the farmer’s son. There are many capable officers who could take his place. But who will take yours when the Sathuli betray you and nail your head to a palace post?’
Karnak was silent for a moment. ‘If I do… die,’ he said softly, ‘you’ll win for us, Asten. You’re a survivor, old lad. The men know that.’