Etal walked up to the edge of the river where Seven and Eight were seated. He didn't waste any words.
"The Red Men have sent the Daughters out. They are approaching. If they know where we are, I think three or four days. If they do not, maybe a week until we meet them."
"Just the women?" asked Seven.
Etal nodded. "We have over one hundred Tara arrive already. They bring many weapons. And the Lipans number almost four hundred. Thirty Daughters will be a simple task."
Eight frowned. Seven looked at him. "What do you think?"
"It's a ruse," Eight said. "Has to be. Legion wouldn't do something that stupid." He shrugged. "Then again, never thought Legion would use women in the first place."
"A ruse?" Etal asked. "Try to trick us, you mean?"
Seven nodded. "That is what they do."
"They probably want to get us to show our location," said Eight. "Then come in with the big numbers."
Etal considered this. "My people are ready for a fight."
Eight shrugged again. "Five hundred against about a thousand Legion. Two to one odds. Fight if you want to."
"No," said Seven. "More Tara are coming. We need to wait for them. We cannot have the Legion find us yet. When will the rest arrive?" He asked Etal.
The tribal thought for a moment. "Four hundred more Tara? Little more than a week. Some run faster than others."
"Then we have time. We should capture the women, try to keep out of the Legion's line of sight, and wait for the rest," Seven said forcefully.
"Dunno 'bout that," Eight said. "They're probably watching them closely."
"It is our only option. We won't beat them with half their numbers."
Eight shrugged a third time. Seven rolled his eyes.
"I will speak with the Elders of the Lipans. I think they will want to fight, but I see the wisdom in waiting." Etal put his hands together in front of his chest, a sign of respect in his culture, then walked toward the main cave.
Eight raised his eyebrow at Seven. "Is this about beating the Legion or capturing your Courier?"
Seven made an irritated noise. "It is a better plan for them than fighting twice their number. And what does it matter to you? In a week or so, there will be plenty of Legion to kill."
Seven smiled wide. Eight grunted, but didn't speak. A plan was in motion. Seven didn't doubt that Six would survive the capture. If she could kill Joshua, she could survive anything.
Six didn't think about Vulpes as she led her Spartans to their deaths.
She really didn't.
The plan he gave her was basic, but it had to be. Without any of his Fumentarii returning, he had no knowledge of the area beyond the hills. Luckily, her Spartans did. She worked up a plan to go due east, then send her own scouts south. She didn't know what else to do. They needed information.
They also needed water, as Yvana never tired of telling her.
She tried not to show weakness in front of her Spartans, but her leg wound was not healing well with all this walking. What she wouldn't give for a real stimpack instead of this broc flower bullshit, but she had bastardized her only one to make the damn radscorpion sting in the first place. They moved slowly, and she pretended it was due to caution.
She didn't think of Vulpes. She had too many other things to focus on.
The nights were long, and for the first time, cold. Though maybe that was just in her mind.
The Daughters' knowledge of the area proved invaluable. Both of her scouts returned.
"There are more people at the river than would be expected," Yvana told her.
"El Tarahumara ellos se han unido. No me esperaba esto. Sus números crecen. Quinientos."
Yvana gave the scout - Isabelle, Six thought - a hard look. She looked sheepish. "Tarahumara join Lipans. Quin- five. Five... many to fight us."
Five hundred tribals ready to fight her. She, with only thirty warriors, armed with machetes and spears, and the few guns they managed to keep from their time as Daughters of Hecate. Her Spartans had not been given the better munitions usually allocated to the higher Legion ranks. A suicide mission indeed. She reviewed Vulpes' notes. A plan for scouting; for picking off few enemies at the price of a Spartan per mission. A losing battle, even if the Lipans never found them. She didn't fault him. There weren't many options.
Of course, they could run. Caesar would probably have Vulpes send Frumentarii after them. With a sizeable force in a nearby, but unknown, location he probably wouldn't spare too many legionaries to find them if they disappeared. And Vulpes... She was relatively sure that he wouldn't send his best people. After the other night... but who could say? He had to look out for himself.
There was no point to running, anyway. There was nowhere to go. She stopped a cynical laugh from bubbling up. She didn't want to alarm her subordinates, but she couldn't help feeling like she was back in the Northern Passage. Time marched on, but the battles were the same; only on a larger scale.
Perhaps it was time for a new approach. She couldn't win this battle from the outside. It was impossible. If every one of her fighters was a crack shot with a sniper rifle, maybe she would try something else. But they weren't, and they only had Six's anti-materiel rifle for long distance, and not close to five hundred rounds anyway. If there was no victory from the outside, what was left?
Six spent hours discussing logistics with Yvana and Ruth. No one was happy with the plan, but no one could think of a better one.
They would feed themselves in, two or three at a time, so they were unthreatening. Claim to be escaped prisoners, more or less. Anti-Legion, in any case. Then, when there were twenty or so women inside, enough to carry out the mission, they would poison them.
Yvana wanted to go first. Six didn't want her to, but she trusted her to get the story right. So she sent her, with only one other Spartan, bearing the news that after they had been sent out, they staged a coup, killed their Legion leader, and were now in disarray, appealing to the mercy of the Lipans in the face of a common enemy. Great plan.
If it were anyone else but Yvana, she would worry that that story would become more truth than fiction. As it was, she still worried. But there was nothing else to do but release small groups of Spartans at random intervals. Hoping, somewhat guiltily, that they followed her instructions like gospel.
Ruth was in the last group to go, and Six made a quick decision. It wasn't because she didn't trust her Spartans. More that she couldn't leave them to do this task alone. She deserved to be there if it went wrong, not hiding five miles away. She put Merrin in charge of the last eight or so women, telling her that if the plan didn't work, she should lead them anywhere she saw fit. What other instructions could she give in the face of this uncertainty?
Six felt like she was walking to her death as she travelled toward the Lipan camp, and so she considered many things. Most of them came with mixtures of regret. First, her failure at keeping her Spartans safe. The fact that they most likely would have been slaughtered by the Legion right off if she hadn't been there was not very comforting, as they were probably all about to die anyway. The countless people she had killed on her travels: the musician, a religious ghoul, a hapless couple who thought they were Bonnie and Clyde. Even Benny and Graham made an appearance on her mental list. Chalk. Selling Arcade into slavery to save Caesar's life, only to end up here, about to be killed, on purpose, in the line of Caesar's duty anyway. But she had tried to free him. That was a pleasant thought.
She then thought of the Divide, and Ulysses. All her roads. She still couldn't remember, still couldn't feel any real guilt over the destruction of Hopeville, but thinking of him led her to Andromeda, which led her back to Vulpes. Their last night together had not gone well. But, she allowed, it was better than with Chalk. Being close to people was to hurt them. It was better to push them away. She knew that now, as surely as she knew anything.
Thankfully, they soon reached the Lipan area. Two tribals came into view as they turned a corner, and they didn't attack. They welcomed. Maybe this would work, after all.
Ruth was still lending her shoulder as they entered the camp. Six's leg would need at least a week before she could walk comfortably, maybe more. The woman explained in Spanish to their Lipan escort that there had been an encounter with a radscorpion. A familiar voice, one that sent shivers through her, said, "Not good, Iss. You are allergic to the cure, no?"