The Pleasure of Memory (61 page)

Jhom only half heard him. His mind was tumbling through the abyss opened by Chance’s message. His friend was in danger. Why else would he be in those miserable tunnels? But who was he running from? And why?

“This is a sorry time for a nap, Jhom. Who the hell does it mean by
we
?”

Jhom’s thoughts parted at the words. He looked over at Bender, whose face was lightly bathed in blue by the sentry’s still dimly glowing eyes. “I imagine it means him and the boy,” he said at last.

“Boy?” Bender asked, “What goddamned boy?”

“His apprentice,” Jhom said, “Luren.”

“He has an apprentice?” Bender said, laughing.

Jhom’s irritation surged. “You find that humorous?”

“Is Hob’te a rancorous god?” Bender said sarcastically, “Yea, I’d say I find it humorous. All this fanfare for a message that’s obvious bullshit.”

“Bullshit?”

“Hell, yea! Absolute bullshit! Prae wouldn’t dare. Besides, the Vaemyn would no more start an invasion than eat a steak. It’d mean suicide for them.”

Jhom just looked at him. He couldn’t tell if the old bastard was simply baiting him or if he was serious. It would be perfectly in character for him to do either.

“Did you hear the same message I did, Bender?” he said at last.

Bender reached out to the sentry’s head and rolled his thumbnail against the space between its lightly glowing eyes. When he pulled it back, there was a deep groove in the stone.

“You see?” he said, tapping the scar, “The stone’s gone soft.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“Oh, kiss me a whore!” Bender yelled, “It means everything!”

Outside the tent, the crowd fell quiet. It only lasted a few heartbeats before rising in more excitement than before.

Bender drew a hand across his mouth. “We all know the caeyl energy is dying faster than summer snow off the mountain,” he said, more carefully now, “The sentry’s charge is weak. The message is questionable at best. I’ve got a war brewing with Parhron. I can’t—”

“The sentries aren’t prone to dispersing false information, Bender.”

“Jhom, we’ve been watching the borders for two centuries, and in all that time, the savages have never crossed them. They’ve never even danced provocatively at the edge!”

“The Allies abandoned the patrols a year ago,” Jhom growled back, “And if I recall correctly, you argued in favor of it. Mayhaps Prae saw an opportunity and took advantage of it. That being the—”

“Prae’s a madman!” Bender said too loudly. He winced and glanced back at the closed tent flap. Then he turned back to Jhom and said more cautiously, “He’s a madman, barely capable of wiping his own ass.”

“The sentry says the message was sent from the tunnels beneath the swamp,” Jhom said, “That means Chance was on his way here, to Barcuun. He’d only resort to the tunnels if it weren’t safe to travel on land.”

Bender studied the dirt for a moment. Then he turned to the sentry and said, “Sentry, where the devil did Chance go after he gave you these orders?”

The gargoyle remained solid stone.

“Goddamn you!” Bender shouted at it, “Answer me!”

The crowd outside again fell quiet.

Bender again glanced at the tent’s closed flap, then up at Jhom. “Foul creature’s been a pox on my patience all night.”

“All night,” Jhom said. It confirmed his suspicions.

Bender didn’t look at him.

“That’s why you sent a runner. You were stalling for time. Goddamn, you are one predictable son of a bitch, Bender.”

“Oh, stop crying! This is a time of war. It was a need to know situation. You know how this works.”

Jhom didn’t dare look at him. He could feel his pulse ticking behind his eyes. That was never a good sign. He’d suffered a delicate temper his entire life, and that sensation, that ticking behind his eyes, was like a countdown to cannon fire. Instead of engaging, he steadied himself and returned to the sentry. “Sentry, what other creatures were at the hatch?”

The sentry’s eyes flamed as it blurred into animation. “There were Vaemyn warriors, sir,” it grated.

“The devil, too!” Bender snapped, “I don’t believe it.”

“Then you’re a bigger fool than everyone already thinks!” Jhom said without looking at him, “Now show some sense. I’m going to send the damn thing south to scout the border at Na te’Yed and Farswept Green. If the savages are down there as proof to words, you sure as hell well better know about it sooner than later.”

Bender snorted at that. “Damned piece of rock barely has the energy to speak. How the hell can I depend on it for surveillance?”

“You can’t. Not completely. You’ll have to send runners out as well.”

“Runners?” Bender said, “Have you gone daft? If you think I’m going to spare my scouts—”

“You’re willing to risk it, then?”

“What?”

“You’re willing to risk the lives of Baeldonian civilians on your conviction the sentry’s words aren’t true? That Chance’s words aren’t true?”

Bender’s mouth opened, but no words came out.

“What if it
is
true?” Jhom continued, “What if the Vaemyn
have
allied with Prae? Remember your history, Bender. Think!”

“Tell me you’re not implying demons?” Bender snarled back, “For the gods’ sakes, Jhom, do you know what year this is? Besides, it’s a moot argument. It’ll tax our resources too far. We need to wait until more reserves arrive.”

“So, you’re saying you’d investigate a possible invasion if the timing was a wee more convenient?”

Bender just looked at him, though Jhom knew he’d hit his target.

“Well?” he pressed the Gran’ghanter, “It’s your call, Bender.”

“All right, all right!” Bender pushed a hand back across his rebellious yellow hair. “You’re right. Goddamned inconvenient a time as it is, I’ll send the bloody runners.”

This time, Jhom laughed. “Hm, could be you
are
trainable.”

“Go to the Wyr.

“Nay, I’ve resigned my post. I’m clean out of hell now.”

Bender ignored the remark. “I reckon that all things being equal, we have to assume the worst.”

“Could be you’re smarter than you look,” Jhom said, “Then again, you’d almost have to be.”

Bender threw a thick finger into his face. “But Goddamn you, Jhom! You owe me for this, you son of a bitch!”

“I owe you? That’s rich.”

“Yea, it’s rich, all right,” Bender said, “It’s the rich truth. I’m short on scouts, so you’re going to lead the exploratory party south for me.”

“I’m not one of your grunts.”

“Your friend brought this pox on us, which marries you to his responsibility.”

“We both know the truth,” Jhom said, “Resources that should’ve been watching the Vaemyn were instead sent to spy in the Nolands. Truth is you didn’t give a shimlin’s damn about the Vaemyn, you just wanted to keep your eyes on Lucifeus Fark and his brother because there’s more gold in it.”

“You can kiss my ass for that, Jhom.”

Jhom stared down at the shadowed face of the Gran’ghanter. There was no need to reply. He had him now. He’d pushed the boulder of doubt over the edge and now all he had to do was watch it roll.

“Khe’naeg’s balls!” Bender said right on cue, “You are one loud-mouthed, pushy son of a bitch! Fine! We’ve called up twenty-seven thousand reserve troops from the nearest parts of the empire. I’ll give you a squad of runners. I can spare two hundred cavalry to send south to Graewind Castle, but not a body more. If the bastards are coming, they’ll have to take that castle first.” Sunlight fractured the room as he pulled open the tent flap and yelled, “Sawta!”

A soldier slid to a stop in the gravel before the door like he’d been waiting with bated breath for the command. “Yea, sir!”

“What’s the status on the reserves?” Bender said.

Sawta shrugged. “We won’t have the bulk of the troops here before next week, sir. Most are coming from outlying provinces that don’t even know about the war yet.”

“I want two hundred reserve cavalry troops readied here in the northwest market field by nightfall. Clear all vendors from the pavilion and cordon them off to the north section of the square to make room for more tents. And I want my staff assembled in the war room in fifteen minutes.”

“But, sir,” the aide said too quickly, “I don’t know that we can clear all the vendors by nightfall. I don’t see how…I mean, there’s a thousand—”

“It’ll be your public whipping they’ll be clearing for if you don’t! And prepare forty runners. I need to send messages to the southern outliers as well as do a little reconnoiter south of here. There appear to be a few rumors I need to quell.” He sent a scowl up at Jhom.

“Yea, sir! Right away!” The soldier saluted and then dove into the crowd.

Bender dropped the flap. The room plunged into darkness. He turned back to Jhom and jabbed another finger in his face, growling, “Now you listen here. I need you, damn it. I want you to rejoin.”

“Sentry,” Jhom said without taking his eyes from Bender.

The room shone blue. “Yes, Lord Jhom’ne Fenta.”

“Sentry, I place your services at Gran’ghanter Bender’s disposal. He’s the homely bastard with the beady eyes and sloping forehead standing here before you. Despite his sorry appearance, he’s not as stupid as you’d guess at first pass.”

Bender’s face flashed purple in the sentry’s light. “A regular jester, you are, Jhom.”

Despite his best efforts to the contrary, Jhom grinned. “I want you to answer to his needs as he dictates them. You’re to follow his instructions exclusively. Do you understand?”

The sentry acknowledged the order.

“That doesn’t change a thing,” Bender said, “I’m still ordering you to join up, goddamn you!”

“You can order yourself taller for all the good it’ll do,” Jhom said, “I’m going to find Chance. He’s more valuable than a hundred of me. When he’s safe, I’ll place myself at your disposal. I give you my word. I’ll re-enlist.”

Bender drew a deep breath and shook his head. “Fine!” he said, “Not that your word is worth a fart in the wind! Just bring the goddamned mage back when you find him. Much as I loathe saying it aloud, I reckon we’re probably going to need the witchy son of a bitch. Especially if that whore’s son, Prae, is involved as the sentry says.”

“If this is as bad as it sounds, we’re going to need the Circle of Twenty.”

“The Twenty,” Bender snorted, “That band of lunatics hasn’t even met in thirty years. Still, I hope they’ve kept their caeyls polished.”

“Good enough,” Jhom said, “I’ll leave as soon as I can procure provisions.”

Bender snapped his fingers at his aides and said, “Get crybaby here anything he needs.”

“Look, Bender,” Jhom said, tentatively, “There’s something else. It’s a …well, not to put too fine a point on it, I need a small favor.”

“Name it,” Bender said.

Though he nearly choked on his pride, Jhom forced himself on. “Ah…well, there’s a woman.”

Bender planted his fists on his hips and pushed his gaze into Jhom. “A woman,” he repeated.

“Yea, she’s a …a friend. She lives outside Barynel Fields. She, uh …she owns the Grinning Goose Inn. I wonder …I wonder if …”

Bender waved him silent. “I’ve heard enough,” he said, “If she’s fond of you, she must be simple of head. I expect she’ll need the help. I’ll park a couple of squads outside her place. If there’s any sign of trouble that way, I’ll have her escorted to the city on the double. If the mage’s bullshit reports are actually true, we’ll be evacuating the whole countryside to the confines of Barcuun.”

“Thanks, Bender.”

Bender nodded. Then he took Jhom’s arm and sidled in closer. “Look,” he said up into his ear, “If you go into the tunnels, do an assessment for me. We may need them before this ends. I imagine those old wormholes will need more than a little dusting off before we can use them. The corps of stone- and iron-smiths will be working around the clock starting today.”

XXXI

THE MURDER

AWBY GAGGED AND PUSHED HIMSELF UP FROM THE GRASS.

He sat back on his knees and spit the excess saliva into the grass. Despite his need to listen for the taer-cael, he just couldn’t stomach the smell. The mold and decay here had corrupted the normally dry, musky scent of the soil. He wondered if it was due to the proximity to the swamps, or maybe it was just the incessant winds.

These grasslands sprawled between Sken te’Fau and the eastern mountains were called the Criohn Plains. He’d heard stories about the winds here, heard they were relentless, heard they poured down off the steep, rocky foothills of the Iron Mountains from sixty miles away, and didn’t slow down until they reached the Nolands, another fifty miles in the other direction. It was said these winds were alive. It was said they were composed of the souls of the Blood Drinkers of Morv’grel Vox in the eastern Plaguebrines, and that they sustained themselves by sucking up the vapors of decay from the graves they passed over as they stampeded their way westward. He was beginning to believe it.

He closed his eyes and let the wind drive the foul odors from his face. He pushed his mind away from his anger. He whispered some calming words. It was critical he find Maeryc’s taer-cael. He had to subdue the hack before the Baeldonian patrols found him or, worse, he stumbled into a Vaemysh scouting party. It was a sorry thing that he didn’t know which would be worse.

As he found his center, he lowered his face back to the grass. This time he held his breath. He closed his eyes and pushed away the collateral noise the way a prospector sifts through the sand to find the grains of gold. Slowly, very slowly, the images began to form: A small herd of deer grazed in the grass to the south while a pack of scrawny wolves stalked them a hundred yards further out. Squirrels scratched through the poplars in a shallow swale just to the north. A fox skirted the hill above him.

He gradually sifted his way through the sand and found...nothing.

He pushed himself back to his knees and drew air. Though he’d been following Maeryc and Goudt’s trails all day, he couldn’t seem to gain any headway on them. They’d only gotten maybe a two-hour start on him. Gods almighty! He should’ve been on top of them by now, especially if Maeryc’s wounds were as bad as Ven described.