8th Day of Harvester, 565 CY
King Belvor's Arms, Ironstead, Furyondy
Cygnus took another sip of tea and tried to focus again on his figures, but the image of Talat kept intruding on his mind.
He still couldn't believe what he had agreed to. And he hadn't been alone. He could still recall the reactions of his friends. Nesco had looked taken aback, Tojo had raised both eyebrows; that was practically hysterics for the samurai, and Zantac had calmly asked Cygnus just what kind of pipe weed he'd started smoking and why hadn't he offered his fellow wizard any.
The tall mage hadn't bothered to explain. He'd been too tired then; too ready to turn in and go to bed in his inn room. And in truth Cygnus didn't think for a moment that Elrohir was going to go along with it, so it wasn't going to matter anyway.
Now Cygnus, Saxmund, Laertes and Zantac sat at the breakfast table in the common room of King Belvor's Arms, eating quail eggs, garlic-hashed potatoes and drinking tea. Sir Corvis had left early to take care of an errand Cygnus had assigned to him. Aelfbi Gemblossom was breakfasting with Hilda, and Nesco Cynewine had bunked at the garrison headquarters and had not yet arrived to meet them.
Cygnus was trying to keep his concentration on the parchment map on the table in front of him. He was drawing lines, figures and scribbles on it, adding figures and making measurements. The map was a poor one; of little use for navigation, but it was enough for Cygnus' purposes.
A few fitful hours of sleep had done nothing to ease the arcanist's frame of mind. Even more so than the previous evening, Cygnus wished the others were here. They had always led before, and Cygnus had no desire to take that position now. He was already in unfamiliar, and uncomfortable, territory enough as it was.
But the results he kept getting back from the calculations he was doing were telling the mage that he might be stranded in that selfsame territory for some time.
Nesco Cynewine was hurrying more than she wanted to admit as she came into King Belvor's Arms.
Her former Order members had naturally assumed she would be staying over at the garrison, just as she had done every other time she had stayed over at Ironstead.
Of course, that was before she resigned her commission and turned her back on her king, her country and her fellow warriors.
It had been awkward and embarrassing, made all the worse by Nesco's reluctance not to go into details. The invitation for Lady Cynewine to bunk at the garrison had been made before her startling revelation, so to withdraw it would have been improper.
To refuse it, however, would have been more improper still, so Nesco had accepted. At least she did have guest chamber to herself, whereas the others at Belvor's Arms were bunking at least three to a room.
But she had not lingered after rising, enduring only several strained good-byes before almost dashing out of the barracks.
It was amazing, Nesco thought as she hurried across the compound of Ironstead, which was already becoming alive with the sights, sounds and smells of a new day.
A year ago, the Azure Order was the only place where I felt comfortable; the only place I was accepted. Now it's the place where I feel the worst.
Nesco was trying to consider exactly where it was that she felt the best, but now she had arrived at the inn door and was out of time. The ranger approached her companions and allowed Cygnus to beckon her to an empty seat at the table.
"We're just waiting for the others to arrive, Nesco. It shouldn't take long."
The ranger nodded. "I was thinking, Cygnus, about how we could best utilize the time we have until Aslan and the others re-"
But Cygnus silenced her with a shake of his head. Frowning and feeling a little uneasy, Nesco fell silent.
Now Aelfbi Gemblossom had entered. "Hilda is doing well," he announced with a smile.
Everyone stared stone-faced in silence at the half-elf.
"If anyone cares, that is," the priest of Lady Goldenheart mumbled as he sat down, shaking his head in disappointment. Lady Cynewine was wondering whether to try and cheer up Gemblossom when the inn door opened again and Sir Corvis crossed the threshold and crossed to the table. The knight leaned forward, palms down on the table and looked around at all assembled. His expression was grim.
"It's as Cygnus here thought. They hired a guide to take them to the crash site. His name is Golatunt."
Cygnus sighed in disappointment.
"Golatunt?" Laertes piped up. "I know him!"
"So do we," added Saxmund, looking somber as Sir Corvis sat down next to her. "He's one of the local woodsmen. Went out with me, Aelfbi and Garoidil on patrol several times. Good man, but a bit on the greedy side. Was always trying to negotiate a better price for his services."
"I've heard people call him Gold Up Front," Laertes added.
"Is he a ranger?" asked Zantac.
"No," said Nesco, shaking her head. "Golatunt has no reverence for the land. Mark me, he's a competent scout; I'm sure he'll be able to get Agarth and his men to the sphere, but he's no ranger. To him, the forest is just where he happens to work."
"So where does this leave us?" asked Sir Corvis, directing his attention back to Cygnus.
Cygnus swallowed the last of his tea, took a deep breath, and motioned for everyone to lean forward and look at the map and jumbles of scrawled figures that were spread out in front of him.
"The gist of it, ladies and gentlemen," the wizard began, "is that I don't know if we can wait for Elrohir and the others to catch up with us. We may have to go catch Agarth on our own."
This pronouncement caused several people to start talking all at once. Cygnus threw up his hands.
"Wait! Wait! I'll explain it all to you, just quiet down for a moment!"
"I don't understand, Cygnus." Saxmund apparently couldn't help but voice the question the entire assemblage had in common. "We'll have horses when we set out, thanks to Sir Corvis. We should easily be able to overtake Agarth, even if we wait for Garoidil and your friends. They're only, what; two days away now?"
"Closer to two-and-a-half," responded Cygnus, "but the logistics are far more complicated than you think. Consider: Agarth and the others should make a little over a league per day through the Vesve-"
"What if they push themselves?" asked Zantac. "You know, force march it. Now that they don't have to worry about getting lost-"
"They're not going to-" Cygnus cut sharply back across his fellow mage. "It's potentially hostile territory for one, and for two there's no reason to assume Agarth should suspect anyone is dogging his heels. Am I right in assuming he didn't mention that to anyone here before he and his men set out, Corvis?"
The knight shook his head. "Not that anyone told me. That's what I've been doing," he explained to the company at large. "Finding out all I could about what anyone saw or heard from Agarth from when he got here until he left yesterday morning."
"As I was saying," Cygnus continued, glaring around now as if daring anyone to interrupt him, "They'll make a league and a third or so per day-"
"We use miles on Rolex, Cygnus," Aelfbi broke in as softly as he dared. "I'm sorry, but I just want to make sure I understand this."
Cygnus stifled an impulse to cut off a scream by thrusting his fist into his mouth- or worse, the half-elf's mouth.
"Fine. Doesn't matter. Miles it is, then. I'll call it about four miles per day that they'll be making,, being that they'll be covering their tracks. Now that-"
"Wait a moment," Lady Cynewine had spoken aloud before she could catch herself. The ranger saw the tall mage's face turning redder by the minute. It was almost as if Cygnus had gotten burned again.
"I'm sorry, Cygnus," Nesco added meekly, "but it just occurred to me. At that rate of travel, Agarth and his men are looking at," she glanced at the magic-user's figures, "eleven days of travel at the least. They'll have to forage, and that will slow them down even more. Trail rations and such doesn't amount to all that, but eleven days worth of water is a tremendous weight to carry. A good ninety pounds per person, at least. That'd slow them down as much as foraging for food and water would anyway, at least at first." She glanced over at the knight. "Sir Corvis, did Agarth, Golatunt and the sellswords provision themselves before they left? In particular, with lots of waterskins?"
Cygnus rolled his eyes and motioned a serving girl for another drink.
"Now there's the puzzle, Lady Cynewine," Corvis replied. "They did indeed purchase extra rations and waterskins, but every person I've talked to who actually saw the five of them head out into the forest swore they weren't carrying a single waterskin."
"Do you think there could be magic involved here?" Saxmund looked over to Zantac.
The Willip wizard shrugged. "Possibly, if this mercane is indeed a wizard. He might have used a spell similar to the one Wimpell Frump had; something to temporarily shrink the waterskins down in size. Or perhaps he hired someone here to cast it. That good-for-nothing-gnome Fenlun would do it. I'd bet he'd sell his own mother's bones for a share of some new knowledge, and I'm not assuming she'd be dead at the time, either."
"Then who would recast the spell after they had ended it that first night, so they could drink from the skins?"
Zantac glanced over at Cygnus, and then a sheepish expression came over the older mage's face.
"Oh, yeah. That's right. Well, if you've got some ideas Cygnus, spit 'em out! Don't just sit there like a bump on a log!"
The tall wizard closed his eyes. Zantac couldn't read lips, but it looked like Cygnus was counting to ten in his head.
"I'm going to go on the assumption that Agarth's group is not going to have to forage." Cygnus said when he started speaking again. "It's better to assume the worst. It'll only work out better for us if they're moving slower than I've figured, but let's say they're not."
"Okay, they're not," acquiesced Saxmund. "How does that affect us?"
Cygnus stabbed down at his map again. "Like I've been trying to say for the past five minutes, if we wait for Elrohir and the others to rejoin us, we won't be setting out after Agarth and his buddies until early evening of the 10th at the earliest. This means," he added before anyone could interrupt," that in theory we would overtake our quarry around sunset of the 12th, when we'd both be about eight lea- I mean, twenty-four miles west of here."
He paused.
"Isn't anyone going to ask me, so what's the problem?" the tall mage growled.
"I think they're thcared," Laertes offered.
"They should be. Maybe now I can talk in peace," Cygnus snapped. "Our problem is our own food and water. Once Elrohir and the others link back up with us, they'll be a dozen of us. Twelve men and more importantly, twelve riding horses. Carrying that much feed and water with us would be a logistical nightmare. We'd need at least one extra pack horse and-"
"What are you talking about? Aelfbi can supply us with food and water!" Saxmund interrupted, jerking a thumb over at the cleric sitting next to her. "He always does!"
Cygnus bent his head down and cradled his head in his hand.
"Would you care to answer her, Gemblossom?" he mumbled through his fingers as the mage's other hand sought out the ale mug that had just been deposited on the table.
"Saxmund," the half-elf explained, placing his hand over hers. "It's always just been the," he hesitated, "the four of us before. With one prayer, I could indeed supply all our needs. Two prayers if we were mounted. But with twelve people and thirteen horses, every blessed prayer I could muster wouldn't be enough."
"Aren't all prayerth blethed?" asked Laertes.
"Wise-ass," said Nesco, but she was smiling at him as she said it.
"We would still be left with needing food for five people, two horses and water for six people," Aelfbi went on. "According to what Cygnus has written here, that's nearly four hundred extra pounds of weight, at least at the start." The priest shook his head. "That would leave me with no healing available for any of you for the entire trip without losing even more food and water, and I don't like that. We shouldn't be forced to rely on Aslan alone."
"Couldn't we just forage on the way, then?" asked Zantac impatiently. "That'd save us all this bother!"
"Except that then we're travelling no faster than the people we're trying to catch," Cygnus replied.
There was a moment of silence.
"So what's the alternative?" Saxmund eventually asked.
"We leave this morning," Cygnus said. "You, me, Zantac, Tojo, Aelfbi, Nesco and Sir Corvis. Seven people, seven horses. We leave Laertes here to look after Hilda and to tell Elrohir everything we've learned when he and the others arrive. As far as ourselves are concerned, Gemblossom's two most powerful prayers will leave us with only one person in need of food and water; easily carried. Even covering our tracks, we should make 12 miles per day through the forest. We'll overtake our giant friend before sunset tonight."
"And then what?" asked Sir Corvis. "I hate to play archdevil's advocate, but if Agarth decides not to brook any rivals, can we defeat him and his mercenary guards, or for that matter even be able to defend ourselves? We lack enough information about mercanes in general, and this one in particular, for me to be comfortable sallying forth so recklessly."
"It's a point," Cygnus conceded, "but the decision doesn't rest with me, anyway."
Sir Corvis frowned. "Who does it rest with, then?"
"I think we should-" Saxmund began, but Cygnus cut her off.
"Not you either, Saxmund."
The rogue looked surprised and then angry.
"What? Well, who then? Who do you think is most qualified to make this one decision that could affect all our lives?"
By way of reply, Cygnus merely looked over at Tojo. "Tell her," he said.
"Him?" gasped Saxmund. "Are you-"
But now the Yanigasawa samurai was speaking.
"Onry one person here aber to read signs and guide us to sphere. Onry one person here aber to cover our tracks. Onry one person here aber to speak with infruence with sordiers guarding sphere."
Nesco went pale as every face at the table turned her way.
Staring in shock at Tojo- at all of them- the words of her father Alexor suddenly flashed through the ranger's brain.
In the right situation, such as in a small group of irregulars, you would flourish in a leadership role.
At this moment though, Nesco Cynewine didn't feel like flourishing. She felt like vomiting.
Still, she had to admit this motley and dysfunctional group before her was nothing if not "irregular."
Nesco looked at the others again. Saxmund, who commanded her small band, was gazing patiently back at her. The rogue did not look pleased, but it was clear that she was going to defer to Lady Cynewine's decision, whatever that might be.
Sir Corvis looked polite and deferential.
What would be the logical decision?
Cygnus raised an eyebrow.
"Well, Lady Cynewine?"
Lady Nesco Cynewine took a deep breath while trying not to appear like she was trying to take a deep breath, attempted and miserably failed to put a look of confidence on her face and spoke up.
"Pack up, people. We're leaving."
The group had left the inn and was beginning to fan out as the individuals left for various destinations in the outpost for final supply-gathering.
Cygnus, near the rear, saw Sir Corvis turning and heading off towards the stables.
Zantac, Tojo and Aelfbi, as a group, followed him.
Cygnus frowned. What the-
Then he saw the three stop.
Sir Corvis disappeared into the stables. The impromptu trio appeared to be discussing something. In fact, they almost appeared to be arguing.
It must be something important to them, Cygnus realized as he strode up to them. Even Tojo seemed unaware of his approach.
Suddenly, Cygnus understood. Call it wizard's instinct.
"So, gentlemen," he asked, causing the three to start. "What did your covert scan reveal? Care to share?"
Tojo resumed his impassive demeanor. Aelfbi looked guilty but Zantac defiantly stared back at his fellow mage.
"We're taking precautions, that's all. You of all people should appreciate that."
"Precautions against… Sir Corvis?"
"Tojo's had some doubts," Zantac explained. "So I thought it prudent to ask Gemblossom here to see if our knightly friend was as benevolent as he seems."
"Detect evil?"
Still looking abashed, Aelfbi gave him a weak smile. "If you'll recall, Cygnus, I did the same to you and your companions when we first met."
"You didn't do it behind our backs, Aelfbi," the tall wizard responded.
The cleric merely sighed and continued to look chastened.
Cygnus considered. This was actually something he would have done, or at least authorized under most circumstances. Certainly Cygnus of Aarde, the master manipulator, would have no qualms about covertly scanning anyone he was suspicious of. And with Aslan not being here, Gemblossom was their only means to do so.
It was just that Cygnus did not feel suspicious of Sir Corvis.
"And?" he asked.
There was silence for a few moments. The half-elf bit his lip. "Nothing."
"Shood have checked for magic too, Aerfbi-san," Tojo said, his face darkening just a touch.
Zantac shook his head. "There, even I have to agree with Gemblossom, Tojo. If the man is not evil, scanning him for magic items is tasteless at best and offensive at worst. It's what a band of thieves would do if they could, to look for choice targets. It's none of our business what magic Corvis might be carrying on him. It's not like we've told him anything about all the items we possess."
"Evir take many forms, Zantac-sama," Tojo said. "Doppergangers not show up to Asran as evir."
"You're saying you think Sir Corvis is a doppelganger, Tojo?" asked Cygnus.
The samurai sighed. "No, Cygnus-sama. Not think that. It just-"
He gestured helplessly and then let his arms drop to his side.
"To fawsry accuse is dishonoraber. I think more on this matter before I speak again. There certain regends in Nippon. Onry wish I knew about regends of Kara-tur."
"What kind of legends, Tojo?" asked Cygnus quietly.
Perhaps too quietly. The samurai had already moved off, and it was possible that he simply hadn't heard the mage's question.
But given what Cygnus knew about Tojo's hearing, he doubted it.
It was an axiom of Nesco's tutor Sir Damoscene that no plan survived contact with the enemy.
In the case of Lady Cynewine and her friends, it didn't even last one hour.
Nesco uttered an expletive and deftly swung herself off her horse. Cygnus, riding behind her, halted his own steed and motioned for the others to do likewise.
The mage frowned. Nesco had dismounted a number of times already since they'd started on their journey in order to examine trail signs left by the rangers and woodsmen. She'd ordered every person in their riding line to notify her at once when they saw any of their horses defecate. The ranger would instantly jump down and dispose of the droppings by burying them. At other times, she would erase hoof prints or other signs of their passage when it was impossible to lead their horses over the firmer ground and leaf cover that she was picking their way through.
However, she'd never just cursed and leapt down like that with no explanation. In fact, as far as Cygnus could recollect, Nesco Cynewine hardly cursed at all.
But now the ranger was down on one knee about five yards to the right of where their party was passing. Nesco threw her head up and uttered a wordless yell of frustration.
"What?" Cygnus asked, concerned. "What is it?"
By way of reply, Nesco pointed down at the forest floor in front of her.
Clearly visible even to their untrained eyes was the footprint of a gigantic boot.
"But how could Golatunt have missed that?" wondered Aelfbi.
"He didn't," Nesco gritted through her teeth as she wiped out all trace of the print, looked around for others and then walked back to her horse and remounted. She then turned around to regard the rest of the group.
"Apparently Agarth doesn't intend to waste any time. They're not covering their tracks," she said. "They're not even trying."