Path of Revenge (67 page)

‘TIME TO DO OUR SUMS.’ Noetos spoke with a degree of satisfaction. ‘Myself and the Seal—’

‘Stop calling me that,’ Bregor said, to general laughter. Though the man’s words were terse, the fisherman could see he enjoyed his newly achieved status as hero.

‘Sorry, Bregor. Myself, the Hegeoman of Fossa…’ He made swimming motions with his hands, prompting another burst of chuckling. ‘My sworn army…’ Here he pointed at his miners, Dagla, Pril, Tumar and Gawl. ‘And these men and women from Makyra Bay.’

The last named were a group of twelve, the most that Consina, the Hegeoma of Makyra Bay, could spare as payment for the debt she owed Noetos and his men. It had been more than he’d hoped for. More than he’d asked for, in fact, given the degree to which the fishing village would need to be rebuilt, and the threat of the Neherians returning with revenge on their minds.

‘As for the first, the people I’ll send north with you are no better with swords than they are with hammers,’ Consina had told him the day they’d left Makyra Bay. ‘And as for the second, we’ll take our chances. Nothing an extra dozen hands could do to help us should the
Neherians come back. At least this time we’ll be ready,’ she finished, referring to the watch she’d ordered set on the cliff-top above the village.

She had been right with her first comment, Noetos reflected; not that he’d seen them with hammers in their hands. Cyclamere would have said they used their swords like blunt instruments. Noetos had spent an hour drilling his army before the day’s march, and another hour after they stopped for the night, and had learned that there was a limit to how much a person could achieve without natural talent. At the end of a week the best he could say about most of them was that they were less likely to hurt themselves wielding their weapons.

‘I expect to meet up with the other miners from Eisarn Pit later today or tomorrow,’ he continued. ‘I don’t know how many of them I can persuade to stay with us, but I will try.’ The alchemist, at least, would remain as close to the huanu stone as he could, Noetos would bet anything on that. ‘Even if only one or two choose to join us, we will have the numbers to bring down the Recruiters and free their captives.’ He wouldn’t say their names, wouldn’t even think them, until they were safe.
Don’t tempt fate.

Actually, his plan, such as it was, did not require more help than he already had. But extra bodies wouldn’t hurt. It all depended on whether the Recruiters had gone inland or had taken the coast road through Kotzikas.

‘Tell me,’ said Gawl, ever the provocateur. ‘Say we rescue your wife and son, but two’ve us’re snuffed out. Is that fair trade? Or what if we lose four? What makes your missus ’n’ sprog worth more’n us?’

It’s a fair question,
Noetos told himself, trying to quell his rising anger. Gawl knew how to light his fuse.
An apt metaphor for a miner. Here’s another: he’ll chip away at me until he brings me down.

It’s a fair question, but there’s no point in giving him a fair answer.

‘Because you are a dead man,’ Noetos answered. ‘Or you would be by now—a week dead and rotting at the bottom of Eisarn Pit—if I had not intervened. So now what you and your companions are worth is up to me to decide.’

‘If we all ganged up on you—’

‘But you won’t.’ Noetos nodded his head to Dagla, Tumar and Pril, who were listening with interest. ‘Because your friends are finding they are enjoying being useful, and because, although none of them would say it to your face, they don’t trust you, Gawl. You’re on your own. Gang up on me by yourself and see what happens.’

He turned to the others in his army. ‘Once I have my wife and son safely back with me, you will be free to go. I am asking no more of you than this.’

‘But, my lord,’ Dagla said, his reedy young voice rattling in his throat, ‘where are these Recruiters? How long is it gonna take t’ find ‘em?’

‘It’s only been a week since we left Makyra Bay. The Recruiters spent a night at Ydra, that we know, and continued north along the coast road. But unless they’ve covered their tracks well, or the citizens of Zagira, Progo and Cuku have been bribed or cowed into lying to us, it seems they no longer travel the coast road.’

‘So why don’t we turn inland now? Pursue them hard instead of allowing them to get further away?’ Bregor seemed to have developed a genuine interest in the rescue mission, though Noetos was not certain whether the Hegeoman yet believed in the Recruiters’ ill intent.

‘Because I want to be sure. Kotzikas is the largest of the coastal villages south of Raceme. If they stop anywhere on the road north, it will be there.’

Gawl was about to carry the argument further, Noetos could read it on his face, when one of the Makyrans gave a shout. Over the nearest ridge came a slow procession: half a dozen mules, each heavily laden with what looked like supplies, led by the miners who had volunteered to warn the coastal villages about the Neherian fleet. They were followed by a score or more children, no doubt from Kotzikas, whooping and huzzahing like it was a summer holiday.
Which it most certainly is not,
Noetos thought.
They have just been warned of a Neherian invasion. Though it has in all likelihood been averted, they don’t know that yet.

‘Glad to see you survived the Neherians,’ Seren said to him when the procession arrived. The Eisarn Pit night-shift overseer smiled. ‘We survived too, but we’re not as famous as you and your army.’

‘Are they calling us an army?’ Dagla asked, eyes wide.

‘Yep,’ Papunas growled. ‘You lot, just learned to wipe yer bums and you’re the heroes of the Fisher Coast. They want you to come down t’ Kotzikas, y’ know. They were happy to see us,’—just how happy could be gauged from his crooked smile—‘but they’ll be happier still to see you. Go down there and you c’n have anythin’ you want. Although they think there’s a hunnerd or more of you up here, so the stories go.’

‘How do they know?’ Noetos asked bluntly.

‘Someone from Makyra Bay took into her head t’ put out to sea. Well, she went north to Ydra, and took a boat from there, so’s not to be seen by the salties. Good thinkin’, that. Beat us to Kotzikas by a few hours, as it happens.’

Ah, no wonder they’re behaving like someone’s given them a holiday,
the fisherman thought.
I’d like to meet the woman who had the courage to brave the Neherian fleet.
He mentally saluted her.
Still, there are more important matters at hand.

‘Have the Recruiters been through Kotzikas?’ he asked impatiently.

‘Don’t think so,’ said Seren. ‘At least, we heard nothing of them, and we did ask. There’s no way travellers like them coulda been hidden.’

‘Oh, there is,’ Noetos said. ‘But, if my guess is right, I don’t think they want to be hidden. I have been considering what they said to me when we fought in Fossa. I think they know about the huanu stone, and they want to lure me to a place away from villages, away from people, where they can take it from me.’

Noetos noted Bregor’s surprised grunt.
So the thought was slow coming to him also.

‘Makes sense, friend, doesn’t it?’

The Hegeoman acted like a fish unsure of the hook. ‘I just don’t see why officials of Andratan would behave like that. I’ve based my whole life on trust in authority. How could they operate with such disregard for their masters?’

‘Ah, but are they? What if they are fulfilling Andratan’s will? Do they want the huanu stone for themselves, or are they seeking a reward for safely delivering it into the hands of the Undying Man? Remember their official role: to find the precious things of the Fisher Coast and gather them up for Andratan to use.’
To destroy.

‘I’m sorry, Fisher, your story fits every fact but one. What about the body of your daughter? You say she was killed by the Recruiters. Why did you leave her body in the Fisher House to rot?’ Bregor flinched at the last word, sensing perhaps he’d gone too far.

‘Hegeoman, I heard her die,’ Noetos rasped. ‘She pushed us out of the house with the power of her Voice.’

‘Even though you say she had no tongue.’

‘Even so! When I tried to return, the rear of the house collapsed in a rush of blue fire. I heard her
scream. When I forced my way back inside I saw her on the floor, a knife in her back. I would have remained, would have cared for her body, but the Recruiters came at me with their swords, forcing me to flee. You know how many hours I was on the run that night, friend.’

The last word twisted in the morning air.

Noetos continued, his face tight with anger. ‘I went back to Fisher House late that night, to find she had disappeared. Her body disposed of by the Recruiters. All I recovered was my sword. Be assured, Bregor, her whereabouts is a question I will ask of them. After I hear the answer from their dying tongues, my first task on returning to Fossa will be to find and bury her remains. My second,
friend,
will be to receive your apology.’

Bregor bowed his head and closed his eyes, clearly unwilling to continue the argument further.

‘Why do you find this so difficult?’ Noetos pressed. ‘You were there at Nadoce Square when the Recruiters admitted what they’d done. Did you not believe them?’

‘Fisher, you’ve said this before. I heard nothing that evening except you asking us for help. I suppose you are going to claim they used some sort of magic to keep their words from our ears?’

‘Well, actually—’

‘Oh my,’ said a familiar voice at precisely the wrong time. ‘Reasonable questions, fisherman, yes they are, if you expect people to risk their lives for you.’

Noetos took a step towards the alchemist. Everyone around him took a step back. The children, suddenly aware of the increased tension, fell silent, except for one who began to cry.

Omiy held his ground. ‘So frightening, oh yes, this fisherman, such a temper, liable to explode at any moment. But I am not frightened, oh my, no. And
why not? Because I deal with explosive alchemy every day of my life. The fuse is lit, but it is not too late for someone to pinch it. Like so. Tell me, yes tell me, how much further do you think the Recruiters have travelled in the time it has taken us to have this argument?’

Omiy actually smiled at him.

If this exasperating excuse for a man thought to escape his wrath by such a manoeuvre…But naturally he had, because he was right in what he said. What an extraordinary person. Of course, he would have to be. For such an eccentric man, survival in Eisarn Pit would depend on his earning the miners’ respect.

Noetos ignored the pounding in his temple and smiled back. It was a feeble effort, that smile, but no other way to deal with the situation presented itself. The others would know he had nearly lost control of himself, but hopefully would also be reassured he could rein in his temper.

At least Bregor’s voice was back to normal.

North of Kotzikas the land began to change. The last of the limestone ridges ended two days’ walk from the village; sheep country replaced by alluvial plains and gently rolling hills upon which grain, oranges and olives were grown. Here the land became more important to the people of the Fisher Coast, and they turned their backs on the sea. The few coastal villages between Kotzikas and Raceme, a two-week journey to the north, were, according to the alchemist, small affairs and focused on farming.

Noetos and his followers crossed the Saar River, thereby leaving Palestra and entering Saros, and bore inland. There were no customs houses, no tolls; both countries were relatively new, part of the rubble left after the fall of Roudhos, and the former countrymen were reluctant to implement taxes on each other.

After surmounting a couple of low ridges, they came onto a wide plain, hedged at the far end by a cliff at least equal in height to the coastal cliffs around Fossa. This Noetos remembered as Saros Rake, the place from which his father had first shown him the sea. That exact spot was a few days’ ride north, he guessed, but he was pleased to see his memory of the area bore some resemblance to reality. Saros Rake featured prominently in the plans he had laid.

The inland road between Tochar and Raceme had been built under the shadow of Saros Rake, on the far side of the Saar River from where Noetos and his army walked. Pril, one of his sworn men, had been born and raised on the Saar Plain and knew the less-travelled paths.

Staying on the eastern side of the river would mean they were unlikely to be discovered by the Recruiters, Pril told them, but it would lengthen their journey and they would have to ford the river. There was no bridge, he said, south of Enrahl, where the road from Altima joined the road from Tochar to cross on an arched stone structure.

The next two days saw drizzle move in from the sea, sending a frisson of worry through the fisherman. This time of year a thick sea drizzle could last a week or more, totally unsuitable for his plans. But the morning of their third day on the Saar Plain dawned fine and the remaining clouds slowly lifted, allowing a gentle sun to counter the cool sea breeze.

By midday Noetos had had enough of being patient. He called Pril over.

‘Where’s the best place to cross the river?’

‘Back a ways,’ the man said in a slow Sarosan drawl. ‘River’s wide ‘bout half a day’s walk south. Folk can cross there ’n’ barely get their feet wet.’ He seemed proud of his knowledge.

Noetos breathed deeply. ‘Pril, we need a crossing north of here. If we turn back now, we’ll lose any advantage we might have gained over the Recruiters.’

The man seemed unperturbed at the rebuke. ‘North a here? Well, we could try Cutter’s Gap. A mite deeper there but it’ud make for a shorter crossin’ if haste is drivin’ you.’

‘Would everyone here be able to manage the crossing?’ Noetos was not used to spelling out his intentions; his crew on the
Arathé
knew what he was going to ask before he asked it. Not so his sworn men, of whom Pril was definitely the worst.

‘Naah,’ came the laconic reply. ‘We’d have tuh leave some a them on this here side.’