The City of Pillars (15 page)

Rondel looked up. “Why don’t we light this oasis on fire so they know how to find us instead?”

“They already know we’re here. Better to do one more divining tonight before they figure out the attack failed. Let’s get all the information we need, regardless of what they learn from us in return. We leave as soon as we can without making contact again until we get to their camp. Guessing from here on out isn’t going to work.”

“I don’t—”

“No,” said Shadya. “She’s right. Give me a chance to gather myself.”

* * *

Rondel covered Shadya with a blanket and watched her drift off to sleep. He stayed longer than necessary, admiring her beauty, saddened by the stress in the contours of her jaw. All he wanted to do was take the pain and worry away.

Soon. Soon this will be over.
He thought of their impossible task. Dark thoughts clouded his mind.
One way or another.

He joined Andrasta away from the low fire.

“Well?” she asked.

Rondel kneeled beside her. “She found them. They’re less than two days ride from here. Southeast. Near the coast. She felt the touch of one of their sorcerers at the end, but she hid herself from being discovered. The process exhausted her.”

Andrasta shrugged. “At least we got what we needed.”

“You could be a little sympathetic, you know.”

She gave him a look.

How can you and I feel so different about the same person?

“All right. Whatever. Let me see to your wound then.”

“You sure your woman won’t get jealous?”

He motioned Andrasta to lie on her side and pulled up the boiled leather she wore as well as the shirt underneath, exposing brown skin. Rondel squinted, repositioning himself to allow more light from the fire. The wound was long, but mostly shallow except for a small section near her stomach that would need a few stitches. He began to clean the area.

“We’re not married,” he finally said, unable to let her question go.

“Fooled me.”

“You’re a brave woman to chide the person looking over your wounds,” said Rondel trying to keep his tone light.

Andrasta left well enough alone, and Rondel focused on his task. He finished cleaning the wound, then threaded a needle and began stitching.

“I think we need to split up when we leave.”

Rondel paused, raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“They’re closer than we realized. And they’ll be expecting our attackers to report soon. The more time that passes before they hear back from them, the more they’ll realize we’re still alive. Obviously, we don’t want that. The sooner we infiltrate their camp, the better.”

“Makes sense. But why split up?” Rondel tied off the last stitch and cut the thread.

Andrasta examined her wound, gave a nod of approval, and lowered her shirt. “Because I can ride faster alone.” She began drawing in the dirt with her dagger. A crude outline of Erba’s coastline appeared, low mountains, a short beach and the ocean. Andrasta continued filling in some of the more prominent landmarks that littered that part of the country.

“Hey, when did you get a chance to study a map of Erba?” asked Rondel.

“In the library in Zafar. I had to do something to pass the time other than pace. Show me exactly where Shadya said the camp is at.” She added a small divot in the ground with a twist of the blade. “We’re currently here.”

Rondel took the knife offered to him and based on Shadya’s divination, drew several smaller landmarks. He explained where the Host’s camp was and where Shadya suspected they would move based on what she knew of their habits.

Andrasta grunted. “I hope she’s right.”

“She seemed certain.”

“I’ll ride ahead and scout out the camp. You and Shadya leave at first light and meet me here,” she said, pointing to a small rock cluster near a narrow tributary that originated from the Undis River and flowed into the Madacan Ocean.

“I still don’t see why we can’t travel together.”

“Considering the skill of our attackers, I’d rather scout alone. I’ll get the information we need then meet you here,” she said, pointing. “We can finalize plans then.”

“Seems like you’ll be waiting for sometime though since you’ll be on horseback while we’re in the wagon.”

“You’re going to leave the wagon and that blasted camel here.”

“Shadya might not like that.”

“I don’t care. We’ll need to leave as fast as possible after we steal the mask. A camel pulling a wagon will be our death. If we have time, we can pick them up later.”

“I’ll talk to her. How soon until you leave?”

“A few hours. Just long enough to catch a bit of sleep. You follow at first light.”

“I know it goes without saying, but be careful.”

Andrasta tilted her head. “Look, while you’re acting like your old self, do you have any reservations about this?”

“About what?”

“Everything. Shadya. This job. Hubul’s Host. The mysterious mask. You know, we can just ride away right now.”

“And leave Shadya alone?”

Andrasta shrugged. “She has her beloved camel to keep her company.”

Rondel narrowed his eyes. “I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.” He paused, thinking of the rift between his partner and the woman he cared for. “I don’t have any reservations. Especially after what she said about the mask. Stopping someone from using it is the right thing to do. Just like dealing with the Cult of Sutek was.”

“So all the stealing, strong arming, and everything else in between we’ve done, you consider to be right?”

“Well, it worked out well for us.”

Andrasta gave a rare grin. “Fair enough.” She sighed. “Do me a favor while you’re riding tomorrow.”

“What’s that?”

“Find out more about this mask. There is a lot she
still
isn’t telling us and at this point I don’t understand why she’d withhold anything.”

“Like what?”

“Like how some random nomadic family had the mask to begin with. How did the Host know they had it? Why hasn’t it been used yet by this new captain? Come on, you’re the thinker when it comes to stuff like this.
Think.
”

She’s right. Why do I keep missing such obvious questions?

* * *

Rondel woke to the gentle touch of a hand on his stomach, the soft breath of his name being whispered. His eyes shot open in a panic thinking he had overslept, but the sky was still dark.

“Shh,” said Shadya next to him. “It’s all right.”

Rondel turned toward her, rubbing away sleep. “What’s wrong?”

She smiled. “Nothing is wrong. Andrasta left a few moments ago.”

“Oh.” He frowned, not understanding.

She draped her leg over his. “We’re finally alone.”

He swallowed, realizing the leg was bare. He glanced away nervously and caught the piercing stare of Athar’s dark eyes reflecting off starlight. “Well, not completely.”

Shadya sat up slightly and jerked her head toward the camel. Athar regarded her, made an odd sound with his tongue and left.

He frowned.
That camel is too smart for its own good.

“Better?” she asked.

“I guess.”

A twinkle of mischief shone in her eye. “You only guess?”

CHAPTER 13

The sun rose above the horizon to Andrasta’s left as she rode south. The tip of the reddish disc glowed brightly, reflecting off the orange rock and dirt as if someone had recently painted the landscape in fire.

She had never been one to appreciate such things, at least not in the way Rondel often did. She attributed his outlook to his former life as a minstrel.

The man can make anything sound like a song,
she thought, half with disgust, half in appreciation.

She wasn’t sure if she admired the rolling contours of the land around her more now because she missed her partner’s company or because, alone, with no distractions, she had a chance to notice them herself.

Perhaps both.

A weight had been lifted from her shoulders the moment she left camp. So freeing was the sensation of leaving Shadya behind, that she had the urge to just keep riding and never turn back. But that would mean leaving Rondel too and despite the increasing thoughts that crossed her mind to do so, she couldn’t bring herself to take that step.

I keep hoping he’ll see things from my perspective. Idiot. Do you really expect him to do that after you left them alone?

She urged her horse harder, allowing the ride to clear her head again.

Given the time of day, she pushed her mount to take advantage of every second available before the temperature rose to levels that would hinder her progress.

She squinted away from the sun’s rays, enjoying the cool morning air as it whipped against her face. Too long she had ridden in the back of a wagon, listening to the mindless chatter of Rondel and Shadya while smelling the poor digestive system of Athar.

The camel might be a better choice for desert travel, but the land had hardened and she galloped across good, packed earth. Up ahead, patches of vegetation became more regular, interspersed in areas not just near a watering hole or an underground supply.

The faster she rode, the quicker the tension melted from her shoulders.

Gods, I missed the freedom of riding.
She thought of Jewel, her mount left behind in Zafar. Andrasta hoped she was being treated well.
If not, someone will pay.

She questioned whether she should pull up on the black stallion beneath her. The smaller Erban beast had been bred centuries ago for the hotter climate. However, if she wore her mount out so soon in her journey, she’d have trouble fleeing from trouble if it presented itself later.

She weighed the decision for a breath when the mount sped up on his own.

She grinned.
Let’s push it then.

* * *

Rondel struggled to focus. It seemed that Andrasta wanted him to ask Shadya something but he couldn’t quite remember what. Every time the words reached the tip of his tongue, his chest would start itching and his mind would revisit the passion from hours before.

Lying entwined in each other’s limbs, staring into Shadya’s eyes until dawn arrived had been perhaps the happiest moment of his life. Never had he cared for someone so much.

Rondel shook away those thoughts again, trying to focus.
I wonder how far ahead Andrasta is.

“Is something wrong, my love?” asked Shadya.

Rondel gazed at Shadya. She rode unveiled, her dark eyes mesmerizing, her lips inviting to be kissed. As they slowed their pace, she busied herself warding a bag full of stones with symbols she said they could use to confuse the members of the Host.

“Just thinking about Andrasta.”

Shadya’s face soured. “Why?”

“I’m worried about her.”

“It seems she’s more than capable of taking care of herself.”

“She is. It’s just since we partnered a year ago, I’ve been there to watch her back. And if she gets into any trouble, she’ll be by herself.”

“For as long as you’ve been together, it seems like by now you would have figured out that she prefers to work alone. She doesn’t like people watching her back.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. You tell me all the time how hard she is on you when working a job. I’ve witnessed it myself when the two of you train. It takes everything I have not say something.”

Rondel smiled. “I appreciate you being protective.”

“I know you have some sort of twisted affection for her because of her helping you escape prison, but I really think you should terminate your partnership.”

He nearly fell out of his saddle in shock. “What?”

“Don’t sound surprised. You’ve thought about it yourself, haven’t you?”

Rondel said nothing, afraid to admit aloud thoughts that had run through his head.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” said Shadya. “Which makes my point.”

“We promised each other . . .”

“You’re in a much different spot than when you made that promise to her.”

“I guess. . . .”

“I mean, wouldn’t you rather spend your days making love to me than doing things that can get you killed on a continual basis?”

Rondel reddened, but then his thoughts shifted. He knew the question was supposed to be rhetorical, but despite all the injuries and stress he had endured as of late, he had also really enjoyed his new life. It gave him purpose.

A fire formed in his chest, warming his body. He turned his gaze away from the road and looked at Shadya.

But what better purpose is there than to be a great husband to a wonderful wife? How could I not choose her? She’s everything I’ve ever wanted.

“Of course I’d rather spend my days and my nights with you.”

Shadya grinned. The gesture eased the ache in his chest. “Then there’s really only one thing for you to do, right?”

Rondel nodded absently, not really sure what had just happened.

“Good. Then you’ll tell Andrasta that it’s necessary to end your partnership. She can go her way and we can go ours. After we take the mask from Hubul’s Host first, of course.”

Rondel’s mouth turned into a frown. It seemed he was supposed to ask Shadya something about the mask, but all he could think about was how his life had just changed once again and how he’d have to figure out who he was once more.

I was just getting the hang of being Rondel the Adventurer.

* * *

Inside his tent, Captain Melek removed the traditional gutrah from his head, setting it on his bedroll nearby. He rubbed his hands through his dark hair matted against his skull and began pacing.

At the tent’s center, Khalil knelt over a bowl of water taken from the lapping Madacan Ocean mere steps from his quarters.

Around the bowl rested five small stones, etched with powerful wards. The stones sat in the pattern of a star. Khalil dipped the index finger of his right hand into the water. The sorcerer began a small chant while his finger skimmed the surface. The wards on the five stones glowed a pale blue, much weaker than usual.

Khalil muttered a curse.

Melek paused in his pacing. It was unlike Khalil to show his frustration. The sorcerer’s chanting increased in volume, and for a moment the stones grew brighter. Sulphur lingered in the air. Sweat beaded on Khalil’s forehead. His lips quivered. The man clenched his jaw, arms shaking. A grunt came from deep in his throat and the stones went out, void of any color except the natural orange and tan the great Hubul saw fit to bless them with.

Khalil hunched over, shaking his hand slightly.

Melek knew not to say anything. Khalil would speak when ready.

Khalil took a deep breath and rose. The sorcerer wiped sweat from his brow, then smoothed out his long salt and pepper beard. “Troubling news.”

“I assumed as much.”

“I still can’t commune with Bassam. I can sense that they made it to the watering hole where they planned to ambush Shadya. But that’s it.”

“Are they dead?”

“I . . . I don’t know. Something is blocking my ability to divine in that location.”

“Perhaps it’s not something, but someone. Can you sense Shadya and her companions there?”

“No.”

“But you’re sure they were there before?”

“Yes.”

“Then we assume that Bassam and the others are dead. Shadya, Rondel, and Andrasta are probably heading our way now.”

“Then we attack?”

“No. We have a stronger point of defense here than we’ll find anywhere else.”

Khalil’s mouth twisted. “I don’t like this. We are Hubul’s Host. We’ve defeated entire armies. Two vagabonds and a she-devil should not be feared.”

“You know the annals better than I do. How many times would a little fear have helped my predecessors? A lack of fear usually results in higher casualties. Besides, are we truly the same Hubul’s Host that the Erban legends sing about? Those that defeated entire armies?”

Khalil’s face went slack.

Melek continued. “I hate to say it, but our name will only take us so far. We are still mighty in skill, but no longer in number.”

“Don’t sell us short. We did manage to take the Mask of Halves back. With you leading us, I might add.”

“Yes, we did. But how long did it take for me to plan the attack? The better part of a year. It was timed beautifully and still a huge gamble. An all or nothing effort to ensure we could regain the mask before Shadya’s power began to increase as it always does around the alignment of the heavens. And we still took heavy losses. Perhaps I’m wrong, but we can’t take the same risks over and over and still expect to have the men capable of completing Hubul’s mission by destroying the mask.”

“We should have faith in Hubul.”

“I do. He blessed us with victory before. But he also blessed us with minds to use. On this, I’m positive. We’ll let them come to us.”

Khalil bowed his head. “I’m sorry for questioning you.”

Melek frowned at the man before him. It still felt odd to command someone who had helped train and raise him. “You have nothing to apologize for. I will never turn away your council, so don’t think to hold back.”

The old sorcerer chuckled. “I won’t. Orders?”

“Extend the patrols and double the watch. Ensure the entire perimeter of camp is protected by your wards. They’re coming for us and we must assume that the woman’s power has grown.”

* * *

Tracking Hubul’s Host was not an easy task. For a group of dozens, perhaps more, they left little evidence of their presence. If Andrasta had not known their current location, she might have missed some of the tiny signs they had left behind.

Even as she slowed to follow those signs, ensuring she pinpointed the exact location of their camp, she arrived hours ahead of when she intended. Pushing the pace earlier had worked to her advantage.

The clouds above inspired confidence in their mission to steal the mask. She hoped the overcast sky would continue into the night, allowing little light from the moon or stars.

It might even rain.
But that would be asking too much.

Andrasta secured her mount a safe distance away from where she estimated even the most cautious leader would send scouts.

She continued on foot slowly toward the camp. Careful not to draw the attention of sentries or sorcerers probing the area, she covered her tracks. To the untrained eye, her disturbances in the dirt would appear to match those of a side-winding viper.

After clearing over two miles in her approach, the flat land near the tributary of the Undis River changed into a rocky, gray limestone near the coast. Because of all the doubling back on her trail she estimated she had walked more than twice the distance she actually covered.

She hid near the top of a hill, one of many covered in small shrubbery and thin grass. Through the spyglass she had purchased from Fikri in Hegra, she took advantage of the fading daylight. A narrow beach below held a camp of about fifty men. The number was lower than Shadya’s previous references to their strength, but she assumed that Shadya’s numbers had included those they killed at the oasis as well as sentries and scouts patrolling the area.

That would bring it up to seventy or so.

Similar to those that had attacked them, each man wore black robes with a silver marking on their sleeves. Andrasta noticed that the design was not consistent from person to person. Few wore no symbol at all. Many wore a crescent or half circle.

Some of the men worked around small cook fires. Others tended to the horses. Several more kneeled on the sandy beach, prostrating themselves while facing the ocean, raising their heads upward toward the advancing night. A man stood before them with arms held high.

Probably their priest leading them in prayer.
She recalled Shadya and Rondel saying these people were not a cult, but Andrasta thought they had many of the same trappings. Isolation. Elitism. Zealousness.

And a “holier than thou” mission.

She moved the spyglass away from the outskirts of camp, searching for where the Host might be hiding the mask.

Tents made from old pieces of mismatched cloth sat in a circle at the camp’s center. A narrow gap on two sides of the circle remained open so to allow individuals passage in and out of it. A large, white, square tent sat in the middle of the circle. Four men held a conversation in front of it.

Three of the four men wore three-quarter circles on their sleeves. They listened intently to the fourth man, the only one she had seen with a full circle. That man spoke with a calm but intense face. Staring at the man’s troubled brow, she couldn’t help but admire the chiseled lines of his face and the way the neatly trimmed, forked beard added to the power of his presence.

For a small moment, jealousy of Rondel’s companionship with Shadya washed over her.

The man with the full circle dismissed the other three. She realized the symbols must signify rank.

The cycles of the moon. Shadya said that many associate Hubul with it.

The man with the full moon ducked inside the small center tent.

It must be there
. She’d want something important like the mask as close to her as possible.

She took in the rest of the area.

The men prostrating themselves near the shore finished their ritual and left for other duties. Six more took their places before the one dressed as a priest. The first six drew scimitars and began sparring. She watched them for some time, admiring their skill and grace.