Dragon Ultimate (29 page)

They were finally on their way after half an hour of struggle. The wagon teams were six-oxen strong, so they moved at a good pace through the scrub forest on the margin of the dunes. Cuzo intended to be up at the Angle well before dark, it being only a few miles away.

Meanwhile Tregor met with the commanders of the Argonath Legion, but without General Urmin, who had been shaken up in the morning fighting.

"I have just returned from meeting with General Va'Gol. He assures me the Red Rose Legion can hold the southern flank. His preparations are well under way. We must make sure that we can do as good a job as the Cunfshon men."

The Argonath commanders rumbled lightly at that.

Commander Fesken of the Bea Third wondered if there were any new supplies of posts and stakes or building timber in general.

"Down to brass tacks, hmm? Over to our Quartermaster," and Tregor turned to Commander Hare, Divisional Quartermaster, and discussions of posts and stakes soon turned to requests for rope. Eventually Quartermaster Hare was obliged by Tregor to give up more of his precious stock of rope.

Later, when the others rose to leave, Tregor asked Kesepton to stay behind. Kesepton was necessarily privy to that world of secrets, witches, and bizarre magic, since his wife was Lessis's assistant, and Tregor needed reassurance every so often about that world.

Hollein knew the signs by now. Tregor was rubbing his hands together in an anxious manner.

"Captain, sorry to hold you back like this, but I've had another message from the Gray Witch. Came in the form of a scroll on the leg of a raven. Apparently there are more Baguti pouring down from the north; not just the Irrim tribes, but western Baguti, Skulltaker tribes."

"Well, that means more pressure at Brownwater Lagoon. We've made the line there very strong already. Six catapults on the second rampart."

"Yes, I'm not worried so much about that. She warns us that the new enemy, that fell spirit we fought at Avery Woods, is involved here."

"Yes, sir." Hollein had expected that.

"She says that he has been lurking up there to our north, and the Witch Hadea, she told me that the business at Gideon's Landing was likely his work."

"I have feared so, sir, since that green fire shone in the north. I knew then that he would be back."

"In Avery Woods he attacked with imps and those special trolls of his with the funny name."

"Bewks, sir."

"And we just about lost everything. It was touch-and-go there for a while. What we have to think about now is what he might do that we haven't planned for. What trick he might try."

Tregor's haggard eyes betrayed the raggedness that was creeping into his thoughts. The responsibility was heavy; the fighting on the southern flank had worried him all day. Disaster might come at any point. The anxiety tore at one's mind.

Now, added to everything else was this baleful elf lord, some mighty wizard of old, who possessed tremendous powers. This was no figure of fun, this enemy.

Unsure for once, Hollein said nothing.

"What might he do? You see, that's the question."

Hollein shrugged. "We can only prepare for what we know, and those lines at Brownwater and the Angle are as well built as Legion soldiers can build them. I would not care to assault them myself."

"We have to prepare for anything he might throw at us. Commander Kesepton, I want you to ride up there to Brownwater and take a good look at the position. Then go over to the Angle."

"Yes, sir. Do I have time to issue some orders to my own command, sir?"

"Yes, Commander, of course. Take care of any immediate business, but then take a look at those positions to see if anything might be improved, then have it done."

"Yes, sir."

"Before you go, give me an opinion, Kesepton. I'm being asked to mount a surprise counterassault on the south flank to push the enemy back to the Little Fish."

"Yes, sir, it might be a better line to hold."

"Let's say we could push them back to the Little Fish. Are we sure we could hold that line when they counterattack?"

"It was well fortified before."

"They may have done some damage to those fortifications."

"Do you think they've had enough time to do much damage? I think the trolls have been too busy over here, sir."

Tregor smiled, but was unconvinced. "With reinforcements we have twenty-five hundred effectives on the flank line now. There are at least four times that many Baguti. I could shift men and dragons down from the main line, but they're getting valuable rest right now. And if we should attack and fail? Then we will have taken unnecessary casualties that we cannot afford.

No I can't risk the army on those odds. We will stand on the defensive and make him pay for attacking us."

Kesepton saw that Tregor had had his mind made up from the beginning. He had just been used as a sounding board. One mistake here could cost them the only sizable army that the Argonath could put in the field. Defeat here might mean the loss of Kenor. The enemy might even break through the mountain passes and ravage Arneis and Aubinas, burn Kadein and Minuend. In short, the entire Argonath endeavor was at stake.

"I understand, sir. Neither would I."

Any attack would be too risky at this point. They would need every man, every dragon.

Darkness was not yet complete when the batrukh, bearing two passengers, landed between the north bank of the Argo and the east bank of the Oon. Lessis had been hiding there, waiting, ever since she'd seen the huge beast fly away several hours earlier.

On the foreland, about a mile from the shore of the Oon stood a cluster of tents and pavilions, made of hide in the Baguti manner. Lessis had watched the place all day sending several birds to inspect it more closely and report. It was full of men; not even crows could count the numbers. There was also something that was not a man, nor an animal ever seen before by these birds.

The tall figure left the batrukh with its Padmasan controller and strode into the camp. Lessis moved closer.

Mirk and the others were hidden half a mile back, in a deep gully cut by a stream. Mirk was back there on her express orders and much against his will. She didn't want him with her on this mission. Only a greatwitch had the requisite strengths for this. If she did not return, they were to move out before dawn and ride north as quickly as possible. With the strong string of horses they could probably distance the Baguti pursuit. The batrukh might pursue, of course, but then it would come in range of Mirk and the other bowmen. Once out of immediate danger they should circle around and make for the Argo towns to spread the dread news. That Lessis had failed, and Waakzaam still lived.

The spell she would use was Great Magic, something created by Ribela and Irene. They believed they had found his secret weakness. Lessis prayed that they were right.

Lessis used no overt magic in her approach, since that might alert Waakzaam, but there was a bustle to the place which would aid her. After all, she reasoned, the Master had just come back. Men would want to seem busy.

All in all, there were two dozen tents pitched up above the high-tide mark of the Oon, which was now a mile away since it had shrunk in the dry season. A long dune rose just behind the camp. There was a corral full of horses on the far side of the dune. Beyond the tents was a fire with a number of men gathered around. She counted twelve, perhaps thirteen, most of them in the distinctive garb of the nomads.

There were a few sentries posted around the perimeter, but they were not skilled in the detection of a greatwitch working subtle magic. She was able to slip silently past one of them, who was distracted by a fierce itch that began between his shoulder blades. While he slipped a hand down his back to rub the irritation, she made her way into the central space between the tents.

In this space there were Baguti. mercenaries, and slaves clad simply in gray and brown. Lessis could pass easily as a slave. The problem was that she dared not use magic to locate the Deceiver's exact whereabouts. He would sense such use and be on his guard at once. That meant finding him by more direct means.

There was one obvious choice, however. A large square tent, slightly off to the side.

As she passed one of the other tents, the door flapped open and a man in the Padmasan uniform emerged. He walked right past her, barely noticing a slave woman in gray. Inside the tent, she glimpsed men throwing dice by a lantern's light.

The guard outside the big square tent was the giveaway. Lessis shivered as she saw once again a bewkman, one of the Dominator's obscene creatures, made from the stuff of life with vile magic. Bewkman were seven-foot-tall, four-hundred-pound brutes, with almost the agility of men.

The bewkman was far too alert for her to just walk past; nor could she wield magic. Lessis knew that Waakzaam had many tricks for detecting assassins. If she touched the wall of that tent, she was sure she would set off some inner alarm for the Deceiver.

She waited, lurking behind a guard tent, remaining unobtrusive amongst two empty wagons that were drawn up there. More wagons were parked a little farther down. Men came and went from the other tents, but this centerpiece of the pavilion they ignored. The seven-foot-tall bewkman in front of the big tent was wide-awake and staring around itself with an active eye.

Lessis moved quietly around to the other side of the pavilion. Here the tents were lined up in a row, with the dune directly behind them. The dune's crest kept the camp from being seen by anyone to the west or the southwest.

The dune's sand had been stabilized by stringy grass, now yellowed by the long dry season. Lessis crept up the side of the dune, but the slope was steeper than she had imagined, and she struggled after the first few steps. Finally she stumbled and slid down feet first, windmilling her arms to keep herself upright. Some sand was dislodged and tumbled down the slope and rolled across toward the tent.

Had any grains of sand made contact with the tent wall?

Lessis lay there absolutely still for a few moments. There was no reaction. She picked herself up very quietly and moved a little farther down the dune before trying to climb over again.

She heard rather than saw the approach of the sentry and instantly crouched behind a clump of tall grass and held her breath. The guard came steadily along the top of the dune. He did not see her and went on past the big tent and farther down the dune.

She arose in his wake and scaled the dune, moving very carefully. There was a wind rising in the east that tore at her cloak and hair, and she pulled the cloak tighter. At the top of the dune she was aware of the dark prairie out beyond. A horse whinnied in the corral and was answered by another.

Lessis crouched there, studying the square tent guarded by the bewkman. Something was missing, she could sense it.

From the fire came the sound of harsh male laughter. Another horse whinnied in the near distance. She began to wonder if the Deceiver had gone into that trance state she'd witnessed once before. If he had, then he might be vulnerable to a less subtle form of attack.

They had almost had him that time! To come so close and fail was heartbreaking.

A bittern's loud ringing cry echoed up from the west.

Then Lessis noticed a tall figure, standing alone on the far side of the hillock, seemingly lost in thought. It had appeared silently out of the deeper shadow. Unnaturally tall, with wide shoulders, it could be no other. It was him, the Dominator. This vast physique was an immediate, simple giveaway, and a pure expression of his enjoyment of a life with power, enormous power.

She nodded, hearing Irene's wisdom. Such brutal strength invites the gentle counterstroke, the needle from the dark.

She examined the shadows at the rear of the tent. There were no guards that she could detect. She wondered at this lack of concern for assassins, then recognized that he felt almost invulnerable to mere man. What could a man, even Mirk, do to such a monstrous strength as his?

She pursed her lips. Mirk was deadly, he would find a way to kill anything. But this dread figure was imbued with fantastic power. And with that power had come arrogance. Arrogance always lead to blindness, and that blindness could be exploited.

She slid closer. It was important that the spell she carried be delivered as a surprise. Its effect depended on the sudden blankness of the mind that surprise delivers.

The tall figure still did not move, wrapped as it was in its own thoughts.

Another few shallow steps, her boots barely touching the ground, not a sound escaping. Now Lessis stood right behind him, almost close enough to have driven in her blade if that had been their plan.

She tossed a pebble by his feet.

The huge figure whirled, and she raised her arms, palms forward and invoked the final volume of the spell she carried. It came out with a strange backward shriek, and she felt it go home, sinking into his face.

Waakzaam was truly taken by surprise. There, right behind him stood a figure that he recognized at once with a snarl of hate. And then it was as if a mirror had been thrust up before his eyes, and he looked himself in the face and saw himself as he really was. The spell Irene and Ribela had concocted had sparked self-insight in a blinding flash that could not be denied.