The Nomad (10 page)

He made a grab for it, and then a struggle ensued as he fought the power of Ryana’s mind, trying to keep the knife from plunging into him. Ryana was weakened from her ordeal, however. She could not both maintain the pressure with her legs and fight his efforts against her control of the knife. Her legs’ grip loosened, and the marauder managed to cry out.

The others came awake. The ones who had drunk the most were slower to respond, but a couple of them roused themselves at once, and the first thing they saw was Sorak and Valsavis quickly moving toward them. They instantly added their voices to the alarm as they lunged for their weapons.

Valsavis drew two daggers, one with each hand, and threw them with lightning speed. Each found its target, and two marauders fell dead with the blades in their hearts. Another lunged at Sorak with an obsidian sword, but as he brought it down in a vicious stroke, Sorak parried with Galdra, and the marauder’s obsidian blade shattered into fragments. Before the astonished man could react, Sorak ran him through. By now, all of the marauders were awake and grabbing for their weapons.

Ryana suddenly released her hold on the marauder she was wrestling with, and he fell to the ground. In that moment, she used her will to force the obsidian knife into his chest. He cried out as it penetrated and twisted. Ryana immediately began struggling free of her bonds, which she had already loosened with her mind while the marauders had been gaming for her.

Two of the marauders went for Valsavis, while the remaining two approached Sorak. Valsavis disposed of his two antagonists with unbelievable speed, executing a circular parry and disarming one man, then, in one motion, pirouetting aside from the second man’s lunge and making a sweeping stroke with his sword, cleanly decapitating the marauder. The man he had disarmed turned to run for his weapon, but Valsavis seized him by the hair, jerked him back, and plunged his sword through his back and out his chest. As he shoved the corpse off his blade, he turned to see how Sorak was faring.

One marauder had already fallen, his blade shattered on Sorak’s sword. Galdra had made short work of him. The second, having seen what happened to the first two, backed away fearfully, reaching for his dagger. He drew it and hurled it at Sorak. Instinctively, Sorak ducked under and allowed the Guardian to the fore. The knife suddenly stopped in midair, frozen about a foot away from his chest.

The marauder gaped in astonishment, and then his amazement turned to horror as the knife slowly turned end over end and then shot toward him like an angry hornet. With a cry, he leapt aside, barely in time. As the knife passed him, he scrambled to his feet, only to see the blade describe an arc in the air and come back at him once again. Panic took him, and he broke, screaming as he turned to run. The blade plunged into his back before he took three steps, and he fell, sprawling, to the dirt. Valsavis had watched it all with great interest. As Valsavis went to retrieve his daggers and wipe them on the bodies of the slain marauders, Sorak ran to Ryana and helped her to her feet. She was weak from having had her circulation cut off by her bonds, but she stood, unsteadily, staring at him with joy and relief.

“Sorak!” she said. “I thought you were dead!”

“Only wounded,” he replied. “Forgive me. I never should have left you all alone.”

“It was my fault,” she said. “You warned me not to fall asleep…” She glanced at Valsavis, who stood by, gazing at them as he sheathed his daggers. “Who is that man?”

Sorak turned toward him. “A friend,” he said.

“Perhaps,” the Guardian cautioned him internally. “And then again, perhaps not.”

“His name is Valsavis,” Sorak said aloud. “He found me and tended to my wound. And now I am doubly indebted to him.”

“Then I am indebted to him also,” said Ryana. “Thank you, Valsavis. How may we repay you?”

Valsavis shrugged. “It was nothing,” he said. “Merely an amusing diversion on an otherwise dull and uneventful journey.”

Ryana frowned. “Amusing?” she said in a puzzled tone.

“One finds one’s amusement where one can,” Valsavis replied. “And replenishment of one’s supplies, as well. It seems that these marauders have not only provided us with fresh game and a warm fire, but also a string of kanks well laden with supplies. They will not only make the remainder of our journey easier, but will no doubt find ready purchasers in Salt View. All told, I would say that this has been a rather profitable venture.”

“I suppose one could look at it that way,” said Ryana, gazing at him strangely.

Valsavis shrugged. “How else should a mercenary look at it?”

“I do not know,” Ryana said. “But you fight very well, even for a mercenary.”

“I have had some experience.”

“No doubt,” she said. “You are bound for Salt View, then?”

“Where else is there to go in this forsaken wilderness?” Valsavis replied.

“Since we are bound for the same destination, then it makes sense for us to travel together,” Sorak said. “And when we reach Salt View, you will have the liberty of selling the goods of these marauders and keeping all the profits for yourself. It is, after all, the very least that we can do to repay you for your service.”

“I appreciate the offer,” said Valsavis, “however, keeping at least two of the kanks for yourselves would make your journey easier when you choose to leave Salt View. And Salt View is not the sort of place where one can get by without money. Allow me to propose a somewhat more equitable distribution. With your permission, I will undertake to dispose of the marauders’ goods when we reach Salt View. I have some experience in such things, and can negotiate the best price. Then we may distribute the profits equally, in thirds.”

“There is no need for that,” said Sorak. “Why not half to you and half to us? It will be more than sufficient for our needs.”

“Very well, agreed,” Valsavis said. Ryana shook her head. “Killing these men was necessary,” she said, “and they deserved it richly, but it still seems wrong for us to profit by their deaths.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but would it seem right simply to leave all this behind?” Valsavis asked. “That would be rather wasteful, and not very practical.”

“I must agree,” said Sorak. “And it would not be the first time that I have profited by the deaths of such as these. The world profits from their absence.”

“A most unpreserverlike sentiment,” Valsavis said with a smile, “but I heartily concur. And now that we have settled that, I suggest we remove these bodies to a suitable distance, so that we are not plagued by flies and carrion beasts. Then I, for one, intend to enjoy some of that wine these departed souls have been so kind as to provide us with. I have worked up a mighty thirst.”

Later that night, after they had disposed of the marauders’ bodies by tossing them into a nearby ravine, Ryana sat with Sorak by the fire, and Valsavis slept nearby in his bedroll, having emptied an entire skinful of wine. The marauders had brought some food with them among their supplies, some bread as well as a mixture of dried fruits and nuts and seeds that Ryana was able to eat without breaking her druidic vows. She had regained some of her strength, though the ordeal of the journey and her captivity had clearly taken a lot out of her.

“What do you make of him?” she asked Sorak very softly, so that only he could hear. Valsavis appeared to be asleep, but she did not want him to overhear in case he was still awake.

“I am not yet entirely sure,” said Sorak. “He seems a most peculiar man, but he did come to my aid, and yours.”

“Does the Guardian tell you nothing of him?” asked Ryana with surprise.

“She does not trust him,” Sorak replied. “She is unable to probe his thoughts, and so cautions me to be wary of him.”

Ryana frowned. “The Guardian cannot detect anything about him?”

Sorak shook his head. “No, nothing.”

“Is he warded?”

“The Guardian does not know,” he replied. “She says that if he is protected by a magical ward, then it is both strong and subtle enough to escape detection.

But she also says that there are some people who are immune to psionic probes.”

“Yes, that is true,” Ryana said. “But such people are often very dangerous.” She glanced at Valsavis, stretched out on the ground nearby. “And he has already proven that.”

“He fought with us, not. against us,” Sorak reminded her. “Yes, he did,” she said, “but he appeared from out of nowhere, and at a most convenient time. Where did he come from?”

“Gulg, I think he said.”

“He said,” Ryana repeated. “But how can we know for certain? He may have followed us from Nibenay.”

“I suppose it is possible,” Sorak admitted. “He is one of the finest trackers I have ever seen. It is conceivable that he could have followed our trail. But if the Shadow King wanted us pursued, why would he not send a well-armed force instead of just one man?”

“Perhaps because he does not intend to capture us,” Ryana said. “He could want to have us lead him to the Sage. And what better way for his agent to keep track of us than to take advantage of this opportunity and join us on our journey?”

Sorak pursed his lips, thoughtfully. “All this is merely supposition,” he said.

“Perhaps,” Ryana replied. “But he is a highly skilled and experienced fighter. The best and the quickest I have ever seen, despite his age. And a fine tracker, as you said. He also carries iron weapons. That makes him no ordinary mercenary. And did you note the ring he wears on his left hand? It looks like gold.”

Sorak nodded. “Yes, I saw,” he said. “But then it is also possible that he had served some rich aristocrat who gifted him with the weapons and the ring.”

“The Guardian has cautioned you about him,” said Ryana, “and everything about him raises questions. Yet you seem to want to trust him. Why?”

“I do not wish to think ill of a man merely because he is extraordinary,” Sorak replied.

“As you are,” said Ryana with sudden insight. “Sorak, we cannot afford to be trusting. We have powerful enemies. Enemies who would stop at nothing to find the Sage and destroy him.”

“Valsavis will accompany us to Salt View,” said Sorak. “That is not very far from here. If what he told me was the truth, our paths will diverge once we depart Salt View for Bodach.”

“Suppose he discovers that is where we are bound and decides to follow us. What then?”

“Then we would have ample reason to suspect his motives.”

“Suspect?”
Ryana said.

Sorak shrugged. “It would not necessarily be proof that he is an agent of the Shadow King. He is an adventurer who seems to regard danger as a mild amusement. If he learns that we are bound for Bodach, he might be tempted to join us and search for the legendary treasure. And I am not so sure we should refuse him if he makes the offer. A fighter of his skill would be a welcome asset in the city of the undead.”

“We will have more than enough to worry about in Bodach without having him around,” she said.

“If he hopes to have us lead him to the Sage, then I think we can at least trust him to help us live long enough to find him,” Sorak said.

Ryana nodded. “Good point,” she said. “But what happens after we leave Bodach?”

Sorak smiled. “Finding the Breastplate of Argentum and leaving Bodach alive will prove challenge enough for now,” he said. “There will be time to decide what to do about Valsavis afterward. And now you’d better get some sleep. You’ll need your strength. I will keep watch.”

She glanced at Valsavis again and shook her head. “If he is an agent of the Shadow King, then he sleeps very comfortably in our presence.”

“What would he have to fear?” asked Sorak wryly. “He knows we are preservers and would not kill him while he slept, merely on suspicion.”

Ryana grimaced. “Somehow, I doubt that he would hesitate to do that very thing should our roles have been reversed. Or do you disagree?”

“No,” Sorak said, nodding in agreement, “I do not think he would have any problem with that at all.”

“That knowledge isn’t exactly going to help me sleep any easier,” she said.

“I will keep a wary eye on him,” said Sorak. “And we shall see what he does once we reach Salt View.”

“I would not be disappointed if he chose to remain there, despite the dangers we will face in Bodach,” Ryana said.

“If he is truly an agent of the Shadow King,” said Sorak, “then I would much rather have him with us, where we can watch him, rather than have him on our trail, where we cannot. At least one thing is for certain. If he is in the service of the Shadow King, then he has tracked us all the way from Nibenay, across the Great Ivory Plain. We shall not be able to shake him off our trail.”

“Which means that we may have to kill him,” said Ryana.

Sorak stared at Valsavis for a long moment as he lay stretched out on his bedroll, with his back to them. “I fear that we shall have no choice, in that event,” he said at last. “And from what I’ve seen, that will be no easy task.”

“He would be no match for the Shade,” Ryana said.

“I am not so sure,” said Sorak. “But even if our suspicions prove correct, we cannot kill a man if he has done nothing to warrant it. That would be coldblooded murder.”

Ryana nodded. “Yes, I know. So what are we going to do?”

Sorak shook his head. “I do not know,” he said. “At least, not yet. But I will dwell upon it carefully.”

“You think he knows we suspect him?”

“Perhaps,” said Sorak. “He may, after all, simply be a wandering mercenary in search of adventure, just as he claims. On the other hand, he knows about the Silent One. He told me as much. He is either innocent of any guile, or else he is enjoying playing a game with us, the way a mountain cat toys with its prey before the kill. The question is, how long will he toy with us before he makes his move?”

Ryana stretched out on her bedroll. “An unpleasant question to ponder as I try to sleep,” she said wearily.

“Good night, little sister,” Sorak said. “Sleep well.”

“Good night, my love,” she said softly.

Soon, she was asleep. But Sorak remained awake for a long time, staring at the flames and wondering about their new companion. Eventually, he ducked under and slept while the Watcher came to the fore and looked out through his eyes.