Foretellers (The Ydron Saga Book 3) (14 page)

Harad spent the next few days questioning Rodic about the recent happenings inside barakMis: how Peniff and a band of Haroun had entered the fortress to free the thought gazer’s family; how Sabed Orr, the late ruler, had met his end; about the curious deaths of nearly a hundred of Orr’s guards and soldiers; about the current state of affairs inside the fortress.

Few, these days, were allowed inside its walls admitted Rodic. The reason he knew as much as he did about these doings, he explained, was that a friend, an officer named Colonel Antel, was looking to leverage himself into a position of power and felt that Rodic’s connections to those inside the palace might prove useful. Eventually, Harad persuaded Rodic to bring Antel into the conversation. At Rodic’s invitation, the colonel arrived at his house late one afternoon.

Initially, the colonel was suspicious. But after a heated conversation, during which he drew Rodic aside for an explanation as to why this stranger with bruises on his face needed to be present, a brief demonstration of Harad’s abilities convinced Antel he might indeed need him to accomplish his intentions. As he grew more amenable, willing to provide select information, Harad began to question him.

“So what you’re telling me is that no one is in charge,” Harad said.

“As far as anyone can tell, power keeps changing hands,” said Antel.

“Has anyone died? What I mean is, has anyone murdered anyone else in order to seize power?”

Rodic nodded.

“There have been stories to that effect,” he said. “However, some of what I’ve been told is contradictory. One day I hear that a certain general has been killed. The next day I learn he is in command.”

“Then the time is perfect,” Harad said, in part to the others and partly to himself.

When Rodic shot him a puzzled glance, Harad explained.

“For the moment, everyone is disorganized. But as soon as someone can command enough loyalty from the opposing factions to provide sufficient power to ward off any additional challenges, the situation will stabilize. If we ever hope to gain control, we need to act before this occurs.”

“But whom do we move against?” asked Rodic.

“The minute you can answer that, the time to strike will have passed,” Harad replied. “Can you get us inside?” he asked, addressing them both.

Rodic was slow to reply.

“That may be possible,” Antel finally admitted. “But it will be risky.”

“Of course it will be risky, riskier still once someone gains control, and I would prefer it if that someone were us,” said Harad. “How would you suggest we go about it?”

“I still command almost two hundred troops. They are the reason I can still come and go as I please.”

“Could I join you the next time you return?”

“If you were a soldier,” said Antel. “If either of you were soldiers, you could. No civilians are allowed in or out, and that’s where the problem lies.”

“So we’re talking about uniforms,” said Harad.

“Well, if you want to put it that way,” Antel said, “I suppose so.”

Harad banged his fist on the table.

“Are you proposing we go through basic training?” he demanded.

He turned to Rodic and said, “This is where your problem is.”

He gestured at the colonel.

Antel flushed and shouted, “Everyone knows everyone else inside those walls. You can’t just put on a uniform and—poof!—you’re magically admitted.”

Harad frowned.

After a minute he asked, “Are all of Orr’s troops still inside the palace?” When both men nodded, he asked, “Are any others allowed inside?”

“The fortress is under lockdown by mutual agreement,” Antel said. “Until the current situation resolves itself, almost no one is permitted to enter.”

Harad thought for a moment, then said, “You said almost no one. What would that exception be?”

Antel furrowed his brow.

“I suppose if there were some sort of emergency—some sort of threat that needed to be dealt with—a messenger might get through.”

“What about a pair of messengers?” asked Harad. “Would a messenger necessarily travel by himself?”

“No. Not necessarily,” Antel replied.

“Next question,” said Harad. “Do you have any connections outside barakMis? Someone commanding a garrison or unit who might like to be given a greater command by the next ruler of Monhedeth?” When Antel’s expression shifted from a frown to a smile, Harad asked, “You are thinking about Major Ullow and Captain Dial, are you not?”

Antel eyed Harad carefully.

“I am,” he admitted.

Antel appeared startled and Harad could see the man had forgotten he was dealing with a telepath. Harad also perceived that when that fact dawned on Antel, he was beginning to wonder why Harad was asking so many questions. The reality was that Harad also wished this dialogue had not been necessary, but the simple truth was that while, over time, he could have gleaned this information on his own, he had learned that the mind is filled with so much clutter that, unless a specific thought is at the forefront, it lies buried and is not easily unearthed. Hence, this discussion.

“Can you speak with them tonight?” Harad asked.

“I suppose so.”

“Then why are you still here?”

“Can’t this wait… ?”

“Until morning? No, it cannot,” Harad said, “unless you can guarantee that the situation inside will not solidify overnight, and you cannot. We need to act now.”

Antel retrieved his hat from the table, then scowled at Harad on his way to the door.

“I’ll contact them at once,” he growled.

“And when you do,” said Harad, “have them come directly to me.”

Antel’s mouth tightened. He turned abruptly and slammed the door behind him.

“You haven’t made a friend,” said Rodic.

“I wouldn’t have in any case,” replied Harad. “He’s only in this for himself and he resents that I am in charge.”

“Are you?” asked Rodic, raising his brows.

“Can you accomplish what I can?”

Rodic hesitated, then shook his head.

“How do you propose to keep him to his word?” he asked.

“I don’t,” said Harad as he, too, arose. To Rodic’s inquiring stare, Harad added, “He has no intention of keeping his promise. Even now he is sending a messenger to Major Ullow telling him where they should meet. I intend to make sure I will be the one who greets the major.”

“What about Captain Dial?”

“He doesn’t command enough troops.”

“But you said… ”

“Dial had crossed Antel’s mind, but he ruled him out.”

“But… ”

“Are you actually suggesting I should have disclosed the extent to which I know his thoughts?”

“No. Of course not.” As Rodic stood, he said, “But I will ask how you intend to handle him.”

“If you will be good enough to fetch me a sword, and perhaps a dagger for good measure, I’m going to make sure Antel and Ullow never cross paths.”

Jadon had set an hour earlier and great orange Mahaz would follow shortly. Magnified by the atmosphere, it spanned a quarter of the horizon and that pleased Harad. It did not matter that they were pursuing the colonel across an open plain with nothing between to conceal them. Antel was riding due east and the sun’s brilliance would blind him if he thought to look back. Furthermore, the West Wind had risen and the noise it created as it excited the grassland masked the sound of their horses galloping in pursuit. It might as well have been the darkest night amid the silence of a snow storm because these conditions robbed Antel of information his senses might otherwise have obtained.

After twenty minutes more, Mahaz disappeared and darkness enveloped them. Although he and Rodic found each other almost invisible, Harad’s senses informed him they had drawn to within a few yards of their quarry. They slowed and Rodic reined his horse close enough that the two could speak quietly.

“We’ve lost him,” Rodic said.

“I know exactly where he is,” Harad replied. “You’ll have to trust me in this, but if you follow my instructions, and I mean follow them to the letter, by morning Antel will be little more than a memory.”

“I can do that.”

“Good. Maintain that attitude and I promise you will control a large portion of Monhedeth after all this is finished.”

Rodic was beginning to believe him, Harad could tell, and he needed that trust. The ability to read minds yields only limited advantage in certain instances, and politics was one of them. Certainly, if one wanted to know what an opponent or potential ally was thinking at a particular moment, this ability would reveal the other’s thoughts. But if one needed the assistance of someone in power who either disliked you or was indifferent to your needs, telepathy offered the barest assistance. One could search the other for hours or even days, yet even if one were to stumble upon something that might alter that opinion, it would still require as much exertion to win him over as it would had he voiced his objections outright. It was far more useful to have someone on your side whom the powerful trusted. Since Rodic moved freely within Monhedeth’s inner circles, acquainted with many influential officers and the nobility, he was the most potent tool, let alone ally, Harad could have wished for.

All at once, Antel was before them. Harad leaned from the saddle and gave Rodic a tap. As they had arranged earlier, he reined his own horse to Antel’s right while Rodic mirrored his maneuver to arrive on the colonel’s left. By the time Antel realized what was happening, he was boxed in. Whether the colonel heard Harad unsheathe his sword, or reacted automatically, was unimportant. As Antel drew his blade, Harad beheaded him. Swiftly. Neatly. Antel’s horse reared as the body tumbled backwards, while Harad and Rodic reined in their own to prevent them from bolting in reaction.

Rodic gasped.

“That’s it?” he said.

“You were expecting a fight?” asked Harad.

“It’s just that… ”

Rodic hesitated, perhaps looking for the right word.

“Death often comes suddenly,” said Harad. “People sometimes get hurt unnecessarily when it doesn’t.”

Harad waited for Rodic’s next question.

“What do we do now?”

“Ullow’s garrison lies two miles east of here,” said Harad. “They were to meet at a nearby house. We’ll meet Ullow instead and tell the major unexpected matters detained his friend.”

“Do you expect he’ll believe you?”

“Rodic, my friend, you worry too much.”

He dug his spurs into his horse’s flanks and left Rodic to fret over what had just transpired. A few minutes later, Rodic rode up beside him. When he started to speak, Harad cut him off.

“It’s going to get a lot bloodier and I’m beginning to think maybe you’re not cut out for this.”

“I’ve never seen anyone die before.”

“Does it bother you?” asked Harad. “Because if it does,” Harad continued, “There will be a lot more killing ahead.”

He could not afford to lose Rodic, but the next move was critical. Harad had acted on impulse all his life, but ever since the night Peniff altered him, he found himself becoming increasingly shrewd. He sorted through Rodic’s confusion and saw he was not a coward at all, simply shaken. The man needed persuading.

When Rodic failed to respond, he added, “Look, my friend. You need to make up your mind here and now. If this is going to be too much for you, you need to turn your horse around and go home. I can handle this alone. In fact, now that I think about it, if you show any hesitation whatsoever, Major Ullow is going to think twice about throwing in with us. You’d better go.”

“No!” Rodic exclaimed, startled by the prospect of being excluded. In a more even tone he said, “It caught me by surprise is all. Antel was going to sell us out. The more I think about it, the angrier I get. If you had allowed him to do as he intended, we would have paid dearly, probably with our lives.” Rodic paused. Then, as realization set in, his voice increased in pitch. “That could have been us back there. If you hadn’t cut him down, he’d have tried to kill us.”

The more Rodic considered it, the angrier he became and it pleased Harad.

“That’s good,” he said. “I’m glad you understand. But now, I need you to calm down. If you remain angry, you’re going to make mistakes. I need someone with a cool head. Can you be that person? Can you rein in your emotions and be as calm as I need you to be?”

Harad heard the smile in Rodic’s voice as he replied.

“Harad, my old friend. I didn’t become the man I am today by being afraid or by acting on impulse. I’m bolder and more calculating than you think. Let’s find this major and convince him he needs to join us.”

It was Harad’s turn to grin.

Rodic had calmed considerably so Harad turned his attention to the garrison, attempting to pick out the major’s thoughts from among the hundreds of men stationed there. The thoughts he perceived ranged from puzzlement over Orr’s recent demise to frustration over being unable to hunt down his assailants or worse, at having to sit and wait for orders from a yet-to-be-decided ruler. Some had become angry, others boisterous, while a smaller, but not insignificant number, had grown morose. As he circulated among them, he repeatedly encountered a mind seemingly focused on one particular purpose. Time and again Harad swept the masses, and on most of these attempts, located, then immediately lost track of the man. He was still struggling to master his newly acquired skill, and patience never had been his strong suit, so when Rodic grew restless and began to interrupt him at the precise moment he had finally isolated his target, he grabbed Rodic by the wrist.

“Hush!”

Were it not for his fear of losing the object of his search yet again, Harad would have punched him. Instead he shoved Rodic aside and followed as his quarry wandered in and out among the troops. And though the man was sometimes distracted by the others within those walls, his thoughts returned without fail to Colonel Antel and the message about a meeting he had received only minutes ago.

Harad gloated. He had identified him. A moment earlier, he had been struggling to maintain contact. Now, he had mastered another aspect of his skill and knew he would not lose him again. Like a tenor with perfect pitch amid a choir of the tone deaf, this one mind stood out. Harad was beside himself. Like a child who had discovered a new toy, his excitement intensified, certain he had located Major Ullow, equally certain he could now locate him any time that he chose.

Heretofore, throughout most of his life, Harad had been a cauldron of anger, constantly frustrated by the shortcomings of others or even his own inabilities. He had frequently lashed out at those around him because of it. Now, however, he found himself growing uncharacteristically calm, unusually focused. For the first time ever, he could learn almost anything without needing to ask others. He giggled, then grabbed Rodic’s sleeve.

“He’s on his way to the meeting place.”

“The major?” asked Rodic. When Harad nodded, he asked, “What are you going to tell him?”

Still giddy, Harad grinned, then nudged him with his shoulder.

“I intend to appeal to his baser instincts, especially his greed. What interests me most is his confidence that several other officers with equivalent commands are prepared to throw in with him.”

“Really?” Rodic asked.

Harad nodded vigorously.

“I know their names, as well as the reasons behind his belief. I find that encouraging. This is no small endeavor, so the more allies we have, the greater our chance of success.” He laughed as he said, “Let’s go. I’d like to get there before he does.”

They remounted and started to ride off. But when Harad tried to sort through Ullow’s thoughts about his destination’s whereabouts, he panicked and reined in his horse.

“What’s wrong?” asked Rodic.

“I don’t know where it is.”

“What do you mean?”

Harad could not keep fear from reflecting in his voice.

“I can see how to get there from Ullow’s location, but that doesn’t help me from ours. Mas’tad take me!”

“Can you tell me anything about it?” asked Rodic.

“About the house?” Harad asked.

He ran a hand through his hair as he tried to order his thoughts. Although he could envision the estate clearly, it took a minute to quiet his mind enough to recall whatever else he had learned.

“It belongs to a baron who entertains hopes of securing better circumstances.” He paused as he rummaged through more recollections. “I’m not sure what else I can tell you, except that his name sounds like camel.”

“Baron Hamel?”

“Yes,” Harad gasped.

“Why didn’t you say so?” chuckled Rodic. “I know the man. He’s Sannah’s father. His house is nearby. If you intend to succeed, you’re going to have to start taking me into your confidence.”

… … … … …

The house was large by the standards of the time, standing two stories high and seventy or more feet to a side. While by no means a mansion, it was nonetheless respectable. It was constructed of well-fitted but rough-hewn stone and its door, the breadth of four large men and twice a man’s height, had a massive brass lock. Its windows did not appear to be glazed as were Rodic’s. Rather, each sported a pair of shutters fitted with arrow slots chiseled out in horizontal angles, enabling an archer within to defend against attack. The surrounding land had been cleared of trees and vegetation, save for fifty to sixty yards of grassy lawn, making undetected approach impossible. The absence of thoughts or light from within assured Harad the house was empty. Nonetheless, it was a fortress and he wondered how they could possibly gain entrance. Major Ullow had a key, but Harad wondered if it would be wise to wait and attempt to follow him inside. If he arrived accompanied by a bodyguard—something Harad had neglected to determine—a conflict could ensue and ruin his plans to enlist him.

They rode to the house’s rear, dismounted and began looking for a way to break in. Rodic, sneak thief that he was, withdrew a long flat metal bar from a saddlebag and proceeded to insert it into the cracks between the shutters, testing each pair for resistance. He showed what Harad considered an inordinate interest in the fifth set he tried, where he began testing how far he could push it. Unlike the first ones, the device penetrated deeply enough that his hand butted against them. Having accomplished this much, he tried to slide the device up and away from the sill. On the first two attempts, it met with resistance. Each time, he slid it back down, then brought it up hard.

“What are you doing?” asked Harad.

“Trying to move the crossbar,” Rodic replied. “Can you lend a hand?”

Harad placed his hands beside Rodic’s in an effort to combine their strength, and several similar attempts produced no result. On the sixth try, just when he was certain the effort was futile, the impediment yielded.

“Push!” commanded Rodic.

As they inched the bar higher, Harad felt the obstruction sliding. When they had raised the tool almost as high as they could reach, the crossbar slid away. Its weight disappeared, followed by the clunk of wood against stone and Harad imagined the piece striking the sill. Rodic lowered his device, wedged it into the crack. Giving it a twist, he pulled and the shutters swung apart.

“There you are,” Rodic said. “Couldn’t have been easier.”

Harad grinned at the one he had taken for a partner.

“No one’s home,” he observed.

“I’m not surprised,” said Rodic as he began climbing through the sill. “These days there are meetings everywhere and Hamel’s probably at one of them. If he were home, there’d likely be several conspirators assembled here. People are choosing sides, drawing up allegiances.”

Harad followed, but halted halfway through.

“Do you hear something?” he asked.

Rodic leaned his head near the window and listened.

“Horses,” he replied. “We broke in just in time. Do you want to meet him at the front door?”

“Let him come inside. I’d like him to get comfortable before we confront him.”

Rodic, having spent time in Baron Hamel’s residence, led the way to a chamber just off the main room. They waited in the darkness and after a moment heard a key turn in the lock. A few seconds later, they heard someone enter. Soon after, there was the sound of metal striking spark stone followed by the glow of a torch, soon after augmented by the brilliance of a second. They listened as the visitor opened a cabinet, then removed a stopper from a bottle. After hearing the clink of bottle against glass and the sound of liquid pouring, they stepped through the doorway to see the caped back of a man wearing fine leather boots and a feather-crested helmet. He whirled as they entered and drew his sword, still clasping the glass as he pointed the weapon toward them.

“Major Ullow,” said Harad.

The recognition halted the major and he lowered the blade ever so slightly.

“Do I know you?” he asked.

“Not yet. With your permission, I’d like to introduce myself.”

Ullow returned the sword to ready. He looked past the two men and asked, “Where is Colonel Antel?”

Harad gave the tiniest of smiles before sobering.

“He was unavoidably detained.”

Ullow frowned and spat, “This is unacceptable.”

“I believe you were planning to discuss whether to mobilize tonight, or wait until tomorrow,” said Harad.

The major scowled, cast a sidelong glance, and asked, “How would you know that?”

Instead of answering, Harad replied, “Generals Maior and Jath will be mobilizing their forces first thing in the morning. If you wait until then, as you and Antel were contemplating, it will be too late.”

When Ullow only stared, Harad continued.

“Tell me, Major. Have you been plotting these last several days on how to become a fugitive—because you will certainly be viewed as a threat once Maior and Jath are in command—or with the intention of seizing control? I’m asking, because your time to do the latter is dwindling rapidly.”

The major lowered his sword and downed the contents of the glass.

If Harad had had fangs, he would have bared them. He felt like a predator ready to pounce. Instead, he gave the most cordial of smiles and said, “Shall we discuss what to do next?”

“How much has Antel told you?”

“Everything.”

He paused for effect. When Ullow pulled out a chair and dropped into it, Harad continued.

“How else would I have known to meet you here?”

Ullow nodded after considering, so Harad pressed.

“Would you like to know what your enemies are planning?”

The major set his glass on the table beside him and looked at Harad askance.

“Of course I would. Wouldn’t you?” In a stronger voice, he added, “But this is not some game of riddles. Let’s deal with what we know.”

Rather than argue how, in fact, this was a game, or debate telepathy’s existence, Harad recounted several of the day’s events none would be privy to but the major. Dumbfounded, Major Ullow stared.

“Once again,” said Harad, “Would you like me to explain what your enemies are planning?”

This time, in a voice approaching a whisper, Ullow admitted, “You know I would.”

As Harad enumerated Maior and Jath’s plans for the morning’s conquest, he studied how Ullow reacted, noting his posture and facial expressions, but also his mental calculations. When the major’s thoughts turned to alerting his allies with messenger pigeons, Harad corrected him.

“Couriers, Major. You know as well as I that pigeons won’t fly before dawn. You’ll need to send couriers to rouse your allies now, so that, when the suns clear the horizon, we will be inside the fort and indisputably in charge.”

The major locked eyes with Harad and a note of suspicion tinged his voice.

“You said we.”

Harad saw that the major intended to claim the throne Orr had left vacant. If Harad were to seize it instead, he needed to insure that the major would make him part of the assault.

“If I hadn’t alerted you to the generals’ plans,” he said, “you would be going home and to bed.”

“That is true,” Ullow allowed. “And if events prove you right, I will reward you generously.”

“And if, during the course of events, matters turn against you?” Harad countered. “What will you do then?”

“I will manage.”

Harad placed his hands on the arms of Ullow’s chair and leaned forward until their noses were almost touching.

“The way you anticipated my being here? This opportunity is too important to leave the outcome to chance. With Rodic and me at your side, you will know what your enemies are up to, even as they are plotting against you.”

When Harad returned to vertical, Ullow glanced at Rodic, then back at Harad.

“Can he do this?” he asked, touching a finger to his temple.

Harad shook his head and said, “No. But he is my friend, and I intend to have at least one man at my side I can count on when we move against the fortress.”

Ullow frowned and appeared to consider. A moment later, he nodded and rose to his feet.

“I’m going to send for… ”

“Couriers,” Harad supplied, emphasizing his attunement to what the major was thinking, and said, “Good,” then bared his teeth.