The Dreamtrails (17 page)

“What is this?”

Hearing Malik’s cold unmistakable voice made my scalp crawl.

“This is th’ wagon that th’ mutants used, Chieftain,” answered the highlander who had elected to ride along with the carriage after commanding the others to continue searching for me. As he explained where they had found the wagon, it became clear that Malik had neither sent the men nor instructed Vos to do so. It was also clear that Malik knew I had vanished but did not know who I was.

“I should have been informed before anyone made a move against Noviny and these mutants,” Malik said, his voice sharp with displeasure.

“Chieftain Vos commanded that the servants were to be sent home, an’ Noviny an’ his granddaughter be taken prisoner, along with the mutants an’ the horses. One of the mutants turned out to be a gypsy, but the armsmen took him as well, just in case. All other beasts were killed, as well as two maidservants an’ a man who refused to leave.”

I bit back a cry, thinking of the servants I had seen and the dogs that had greeted me upon our arrival. And Maruman!

“You said the mutants were questioned?” Malik prompted.

“They were nowt questioned until they were brought back to Vos’s homestead. That is when we realized th’ female mutant, who had presented herself to Chieftain Vos, was not among them. At first the mutants tried to tell us that one of the women killed was the missing woman, but after we tickled the mutant lad’s da, he told us she had sent a horse to tell him that she was waiting out the storm in the wagon.”

“Probably the other mutants used their freakish powers to warn her as they were being taken away.”

“They couldn’t have, Chieftain,” the highlander said. “The armsmen put demon bands on the lot of them at Noviny’s place. But mebbe the female mutant saw them pass.…”

Malik grunted. “What did the mutant boy say they were doing here?”

“Only what th’ female told Chieftain Vos yesterday: that they were headed for Sutrium an’ had merely stopped here on th’ way fer the lad to see his da. But it’s clear they came because of something the old man scribed in a letter. Chieftain Vos had th’ captives thrown into the cells an’ gave orders for us to find the woman. That is when I sent a rider to ye, Chieftain.”

There was a silence; then Malik said, “Very well. Take the wagon to Vos and make sure the prisoners are not questioned again. I will deal with them myself when I come. Tell him to concentrate his men and his efforts on finding that female mutant. With luck, she has stumbled into one of the perimeter traps and is dead. If so, I want to see her body.”

I heard the sound of horses galloping away, then the slushy clop of hooves and the jingle of harness as the wagon lumbered on. I laid my face on a fold of the plast suit, insisting to myself that Maruman had not been slain and wondering if I really had the courage to put my plan into action.

I
MUST HAVE
fallen asleep for I woke to the sound of horses’ hooves clattering over cobbles and realized that we had reached Vos’s holding. I tried to picture the layout of the yard I had seen the day before. When the wagon turned left and came to a halt, I reckoned we had stopped in front of the barn that stood nearest the grass surrounding the main house in a sea of green. As the horses were freed from their makeshift bindings, I sent out a probe for Gahltha and then tried to reach Lo and Zade, to no avail. A large area of buzzing rejection came from what I guessed to be the direction of the corral. Perhaps Gahltha and the others were in the midst of the banded horses, and the collective disruption of their demon bands prevented me from reaching them. I farsought Zarak and Khuria with no more success, before remembering the highlander had spoken of their being demon banded.

After the two horses that had drawn the carriage were led away, I rolled on my back and was reaching for the pin that held the overhead hatch when I heard the voice of the armsmen who had brought the wagon in with the highlander.

“I do not see why we should be worried about making sure Chieftain Vos does what Malik commands,” he said in a low, truculent voice. “He is not our chieftain.”

Another voice told him authoritatively not to be a fool. “Do you think Chieftain Malik camps in Saithwold province
these long winter months because he is concerned about protecting our coastline? He could just as well leave that to his men. I believe he intends to offer his name to the Council of Chieftains as candidate for Saithwold.”

“But Chieftain Vos—”

“Will do nothing because he will be under charges for setting up the blockade and trying to force the people here to vote for him. Why else would Malik encourage him to do such things? But the main point is that Chieftain Malik is like to take on those of us who have proven useful to him.”

“All right, but how are we supposed to make sure Vos obeys Malik’s command not to question the prisoners again?”

The other man answered in a sneering voice, “Vos can be steered as easily as a sheep. Didn’t you hear the highlander say in Vos’s hearing that it is Malik’s practice to keep prisoners in isolation and solitude to weaken their wills? If he follows his usual pattern, Chieftain Vos will simply appropriate the idea as his own.”

The banging sound of a door came from the direction of the main house, ending the conversation. I heard the sound of many boots approaching and then Vos’s voice, sneering at the wagon’s smallness and its “grotesque and freakish ornamentation.” To my horror, one of the armsmen again suggested burning the wagon, adding that the prisoners be made to watch. But Vos said loftily that he had decided the prisoners would stay where they were for the time being. A bit of isolation would stew their terror and make them more amenable when they were again questioned.

Vos derided the wagon for a little longer, then ordered it to be dragged out of his sight. There was a good deal of pushing and shoving before I heard the muffled sound of receding boots, and I prayed that the wagon had been pushed into the
shed. It would be much easier to sneak out under cover.

After listening for a long time to be sure there was no one close by, I turned onto my belly, pushed aside the plast suit as carefully as I could, and pulled the pin at the bottom of the concealed section to release the lower hatch. I hung my head out, startled to find myself looking down at thick green grass. The wagon was not in the barn after all but on the grass beside it. With a sinking heart, I visualized all the windows in the long side of the homestead that would face me as I crept out.

I opened the hatch farther, hung my head right down, and looked around, but it was not until I gathered my courage and climbed out that I discovered that the wagon had been pushed under a weeping tree growing beside the shed. Better still, the barn door was flung open so wide that it blocked part of the wagon from view. I closed the hatch and crept along the side of the barn into the dense trees surrounding the homestead, giving thanks for the barn door’s protection. All I had to do was stay hidden until dark, then slip inside to find the others. I refused to let myself dwell on how I would rescue them when all of the armsmen wore demon bands. I told myself that I should first find the horses. They might be able to tell me where the prisoners had been taken, and Gahltha would know what had happened to Maruman.

I moved through the trees behind the barn and around to where I had seen the corral, only to discover a large empty yard I would need to cross before I could reach it. I could not see any armsmen about, nor could I check for smaller buzzing areas of disturbance because it had begun to rain again.

My heart leapt into my mouth when, among the horses, I spotted a coal-black head I would have known anywhere.
Gahtha
. I beastspoke him and was close enough that I ought to have reached him even in the light rain, but he did not respond.
The buzzing repulsion and the glint of metal about his neck gave it away. He had been banded! Gahltha could not reach me any more than I could him, yet his sense of smell was acute. He lifted his head and wheeled suddenly, causing an eddy in the slow swirl of horses. Then he was at the edge of the yard, his nose quivering.

I crouched and slipped through the fence posts into the empty yard. I ran across it, bent low, for I had spotted a group of armsmen sitting on the front porch of the homestead, talking and cleaning their weapons. Assuring myself that they could not possibly see me with all the moving horses between us, I had almost reached Gahltha when, to my astonishment, he laid back his ears and bared his teeth at me!

I stopped incredulously. What was the matter? I moved toward him, but this time he reared up slightly and gave a low, urgent whinny, stopping me again. I recognized the whinny he had given as a warning and looked around, but I could see no one. Baffled, I took another step. Gahltha snorted and shook his head.

“Gahltha?” I whispered, and reached out to him. But this time he snapped at my fingers and backed away, making the horses nearest him shift and prance. Was he in pain? The possibility that he had been harmed filled my mind with such a red blaze of anger that I struggled to compose myself. I was signaling laboriously for him to come when I heard a soft voice behind me.

“So, I was right.”

I spun, heart hammering, to find the armsman Kevrik standing by a door I had not noticed in the side of the nearest outbuilding. With the delicacy of a true dagger handler, he held a short throwing dagger, point first. This was what Gahltha had been trying so hard to convey.

“I ken well how to use this, lass, in case yer thinkin’ of makin’ a run for it,” Kevrik said in the same soft voice.

“How did you know I would come here?” I demanded, instinctively keeping my voice low.

“I was nowt sure, but having seen ye with yon black horse yesterday, I dinna think ye’d leave without him.” I must have glanced at his throat, for he touched the demon band. “I believe ye about these being dangerous, but I can’t have ye making me cut my own throat now, can I?” I must have reacted because his smile widened. “Unlike many of my comrades, I ken that Misfits can have more than one Talent. Nowt that anyone is like to listen to me, since I returned ye as I was bidden and am now suspected of letting myself be ensorcelled by ye. Capturing ye would be th’ only way to restore my reputation.”

“Why didn’t you stake out the cell where my human friends are held?” I asked. “Are they so inaccessible that I would have no chance of reaching them, or don’t you think we Misfits care about human friends?”

His teeth flashed white. “There are many armsmen in the house, and a guard is posted to stand outside the cell holding yer friends, which is in the basement. That, I suppose, is th’ information ye were trying to trick out of me.” My anger must have shown, for his grin faded and he tossed the knife purposefully up and caught it by the handle without ever taking his eyes from me. “I have to admire ye, lass, still plottin’ to turn this moment to yer advantage when ye ought to be in despair. I’d nivver expected Misfits to show such courage and determination, nor to be loyal or clever. The stories told to us would have ye as vicious and cowardly near-beasts.”

I opened my mouth and then closed it, suddenly struck by the fact that he had not made any attempt to call for help. Perhaps
he intended to take me straight to Malik, since he was in disfavor with Vos. “Maybe you should be as clever,” I said fiercely. “Of all people, Malik does not deserve anyone’s loyalty.”

Kevrik lifted his eyebrows, once again throwing the knife and catching it. I took a small step toward him anyway, growing reckless in my urgency. “You say you believe me about the demon bands? I will tell you something else that you ought to believe. Malik is a traitor—and not just to Misfits. Even now, he betrays you and Vos and all the rebels.”

The amusement in the armsman’s eyes was gone. “What are ye blatherin’ about?” he demanded.

“Haven’t you wondered why he supports Vos’s pointless plots, which any fool can tell will not gain more than the most temporary chieftainship of Saithwold? Perhaps you imagine, as some others here do, that Malik supports Vos’s folly the better to usurp his claim on Saithwold. If that is what you think, you are wrong. Malik desires vastly more than being chieftain of Saithwold. He is using Vos and Saithwold and all of you as a distraction to stop anyone from learning what he is really doing, until it is too late.”

“Too late for what?”

“To stop him,” I said, heartened by the fact that the armsman had not defended Malik. I took a deep breath. “Malik has made a pact with the Herders. Noviny saw him meeting with them down on the beach. He agreed to let a force of Herder warriors land, and he has used Vos’s activities as a way of isolating Saithwold so none of the other chieftains will get wind of it. The tainted traps laid all about the province’s perimeter and the demon bands that you and the horses wear are simply to make sure no Misfit scries in this region and learns what Malik is up to. If not for them, I could
have farsought someone to warn Dardelan and the Council of Chieftains about the invasion. As it is, I am trapped here, my friends are prisoners, and soon hundreds of Herder warriors will invade. I do not know what has been promised Malik for his treachery, but you can be sure that all who aided the rebellion will be slain or given to Salamander as slaves to be sold over the seas.”