The Thief's Gamble (Einarinn 1) (42 page)

I went over the wall at the closest point and took a long route around the back of the compound to get back to our observation point. Safety was more important than time now I had such valuable information. Ryshad was looking out for me as I crept towards the hollow in the hillside and I took the cloak he offered me gratefully, shivering in the cold breeze.

'We've got to—' I began, rummaging in my gear for something to eat.

He hushed me with a finger to my lips. 'Later. Let's move out while it's still dark.'

He turned to Shiv and Aiten and had them awake in a few moments. Aiten was none too keen to move on but Shiv agreed and we were soon creeping through the scrubby grass and bushes. We found another little hollow and Ryshad and I got our heads down while Shiv and Aiten kept watch. I woke cold and stiff in the grey light of dawn and while we ate I explained what I had found.

'I reckon we should try and find that ship, the ocean-going one, and sink it,' I concluded.

'We're going to have to cut back to get more supplies before we do anything else,' Aiten said sourly as he chewed on a strip of dried meat.

'I want to contact Planir and tell him what you've found out,' Shiv decided. 'This information's too important to wait.'

Too important to lose if we get captured, I thought grimly.

Shiv held a blue crystal between his palms, eyes closed and concentration knitting his brows.

'Can you make some kind of map for us?' Ryshad asked me thoughtfully. 'Show us where these other nobles are for a start.'

'I'll try.' I was busy scraping lines on the turf, using small stones for hills and villages, when I heard Ryshad and Aiten swear at virtually the same time although they were keeping watch in different directions.

I looked up, mouth open. 'What is it?'

'Men. A big sweep's coming this way.' Ryshad slid down the slope, face grim as he crossed to Aiten.

'Could it be a hunting party?' Aiten said hesitantly.

'What's to hunt out here, apart from us?' Ryshad gripped Shiv's shoulder and shook him. The mage swore as he opened his eyes.

'What is it?' he said crossly. 'I'd barely got the link made.'

'Trouble,' Ryshad said shortly, shouldering his pack. 'And it's on our trail.'

We crept as fast as we could along a shallow valley leading away from the pursuers. I risked one look back and could just make out two packs of dark shapes. They moved with silent purpose, fanning out as they came down the slope. Despite the dim light and the fact I would swear to any god of your choice that we'd left no trail, they were headed straight for the dell.

'Wait,' Ryshad breathed and we crouched among a scatter of boulders in the sparse stream. As we watched, the hunters attacked the hollow from all directions in a sudden rush of violence. There was little or no sound: their discipline was as hard as the rocks around us and they drew up in watchful ranks as two men began to quarter the area like hounds casting for a scent. Faint on the still, cold air, a rhythmic chant crept across the silent landscape.

'Move.' Shiv led the way and we picked our way carefully along the stream bed. Faint wisps of mist rose from the water, but I could see them swirling round Shiv's hands in a way that disclosed his control. The vapour seemed to glitter at the edges of my vision and while I guessed it was another concealment magic, I found it horribly distracting, like a tune on the edge of hearing that you can't quite make out.

'Shit, flower, watch what you're doing,' Aiten hissed as I trod on his heel. I mouthed an apology and we hurried after Ryshad and Shiv as the valley fell away to leave us horribly exposed on a grassy plain. Ryshad looked around in a moment's uncharacteristic indecision then led us up a rise covered in a scrawny shrub that offered at least the possibility of concealment. My back was starting to ache from running in a half-crouch but we dared not get sky-lined, even helped by Shiv's enchantment. The light was strengthening now and the first gold of the sunrise was colouring the edges of the hills. I wasn't scared, not as such, not quite yet, but the knowledge that I might have reason to be seriously frightened very soon prickled round the back of my head like an itch you can't scratch. I certainly disliked being caught somewhere so isolated; no quick escape over a border possible here.

'Down.' Ryshad dropped flat into the scrub and we followed him as the tinkling of goat bells came up from the far side of the rise. Ryshad edged forward and I had to resist the temptation to move up too; the more movement, the more chance someone would get spotted. I was surprised to realise how much I trusted Ryshad but I hate leaving any part of my fate to someone else at the best of times, and this was promising to be one of the worst.

I managed to unclench my jaw as Ryshad beckoned us forward and used elbows and knees to move through the berry bushes, ignoring damage to skin and clothes. Drawing level, I looked down to see a lad yawning and knuckling his eyes as he drove a flock of remarkably shaggy goats out from crude pens off to our left. A couple of women were milking the nannies there and the lad was heading up the far slope, so we continued our agonising crawl down to the right. The good news proved to be that the valley's shelter had allowed some larger trees to grow, which gave enough cover for us to stand up; the bad news was that the only reason the goats had left them alone was the finger-long thorns which ripped into us at every opportunity. We ignored them and moved faster.

'Hold it.' Aiten was covering our backs and we froze at his warning. I looked back and saw our pursuers hit the goat-pens with the same precision they'd used earlier. The women raised their hands to show they were unarmed but, once they had identified themselves, they stood straight and unafraid and there were no raised swords or voices as the leaders of the hunt came forward to question them. As the first sun lit the valley, I saw glints from gorgets of steel round the necks of these two. Not quite time for real fear, I decided, we could settle for serious apprehension for the present.

'See the insignia?' I breathed to Aiten. 'Those had better be the first ones down if this ends up in a fight.'

Shiv was considering a question from Ryshad and I turned to catch his answer.

'You're right. They must be somehow picking up on live bodies, identifying people at that, since no one's headed for the goats.'

'So we need to be among people,' Ryshad said grimly.

'That's bloody risky,' Aiten murmured dubiously but I had to agree with Ryshad; the thief who hid the pearl in a jar of sugar drops is an old story but it worked then and it works now.

I scanned my mental map of the islands and cursed myself for not taking better note of where we had been heading.

'There's a village down that way.' I led us off and we were able to make good speed but full daylight was nearly upon us and it wasn't long before we began to see where the trees were being coppiced, opening up the woods too much for comfort. We headed for the denser growth on a slope, and our pace slowed on the slippery leaf mould underfoot.

The everyday sounds of a village making an early start on the day came filtering through the leaves and we crept closer, bent like gaffers with joint evil. I saw rough stone roofs with stubby chimneys and Ryshad motioned us all to stillness as he moved ahead, step by agonisingly cautious step. I held myself motionless, forcing myself to keep my eyes fixed on Ryshad's back.

'You can't hear them behind you, you won't be able to see them, so don't risk someone spotting you moving, you daft bitch,' I scolded myself silently. 'Ait's guarding the rear, trust him.'

Shiv's face was taut and I realised the faint sound I could hear was the grinding of his teeth. The tiny noise grated on my nerves like the scrape of a knife-blade on earthenware and

I cringed where I stood. Just as I thought I could not stand it any more, Ryshad beckoned to us and I breathed a silent oath of relief.

We picked our way through tangled saplings below the lip of a rise sheltering the village, and I realised Ryshad was heading for a small cluster of standing stones. We had to do the last bit on bellies and elbows but once we were among the dolmens we had a degree of cover and, more importantly, we could see the whole village, the way we had come in and the other road out of the settlement. Aiten moved to cover the far approach and Ryshad crossed to lie next to me.

'Make out that map again, will you? They may lose us for a while but we need to have some idea of where we're going.'

'We should head for a coastal settlement when it gets dark.' Shiv said softly, looking back from his vantage post. 'If we can get hold of one of those whale-boats, I can get us home.'

'Couldn't you just magic us out of here?' I tried and failed to keep the pleading note out of my voice and scowled at the map I was scoring into the turf.

'Can you?' Aiten looked over hopefully but Shiv shook his head regretfully.

'If I'm not forced to perform any other enchantment between now and dusk, I might be able to send one of you back.'

Aiten looked uncertainly at Ryshad, who shrugged.

'It had better be Livak,' he said simply.

'No!' I exclaimed incautiously, blushing, furious with myself, as the others hushed me.

'You're the one with the information Planir needs.' Ryshad fixed me with a stern eye and I swallowed my confused objections. To be truthful, the long-held instincts of looking after myself first and last had leaped for joy at the prospect of getting out of this mess, until the more recent habits of working in this kind of team had kicked me in the shins. I couldn't decide if that made me a callous bitch or a sensible agent for Planir, but I did know I hated the idea of leaving these three behind to Poldrion only knew what fate.

Still, time enough to worry about that when Shiv was sufficiently rested to regain his strength for the magic, which was not something I was going to offer good odds on. I couldn't think what to say so I moved over to survey the village from a post between two of the great sarsens. The tension eased away but I knew relaxing would be a seriously stupid idea. I forced myself to study our surroundings in detail to keep myself alert. Script was carved into the stone and I wondered what significance this enclosure had, that such good land was set aside in such a poor country. After a while, deciphering the letters in between keeping watch on the village, I decided they were lists of names. A horrid suspicion grew in the back of my mind until it could no longer be ignored. I felt around the turf I was sitting on, running my fingers under the tangle of dead summer's growth, crawling round on hands and knees. Sure enough, I found the regular lines of cutting and lifting which gave a rounded outline about man length and half as wide. I threw up a quick prayer to Misaen, hoping no one in the village had a sudden urge to come and commune with an ancestor today.

I realised Ryshad was looking at me with open puzzlement and I crept over to sit next to him.

'We're in a grave circle,' I said quietly.

He looked momentarily perplexed and I remembered Das-tennnin's followers bury at sea rather than burning their dead like the rest of us.

'Peculiar people.' His face mirrored my own distaste; Saedrin grant I die somewhere civilised and get a good hot pyre and a pretty urn in a shrine for whatever's left while I find out what the Otherworld has to offer.

CHAPTER NINE

Taken from:

The Lost Arts of Tormalin Argulemmin of Tannath Lake

Chapter 7: Priestly Magic

Before the fall of the House of Nemith brought the Dark Generations to our unhappy world, many and wondrous were the arcane arts of Tormalin priests. While we may lament the loss of much that brought grace and beauty to the life of the lost Empire, such arts as these are best left hidden in the darkness of the Chaos.

It is said they could look into a man's mind and read his very thoughts. Most could do this face to face and, more terrifying yet, some adepts could do this from rooms apart from their target, or even, hard though it is to believe, from some leagues away. What the priests could read was dependent on their level of proficiency. A novice might gain merely the sense of his victim's mood, his fear or pleasure. One more skilled could see where such emotions tended and identify the object of terror or lust. The most accomplished priests could pick the very words out of their hapless subject's heads, repeating their innermost thoughts and secrets back to them. Some could even invade a man's dreams, searching his memories and desires, leaving their victims sickened with pain.

By such methods, the power and influence of the priesthoods, particularly those of Poldrion and Raeponin, grew and spread. When brought to answer charges of some crime, few men would have the hardihood to deny evidence given by a priest and if one should, how was he to be believed, when all present knew the powers

of their magics? Can we believe that this power was never abused, that false witness was never given when no man could be believed if he gainsaid a priest? Alas, the fallibility of human nature is one thing that has not changed through the generations.

Once a youth had joined the priesthoods, his life was lived at the commands of the higher priests. Dreadful oaths were sworn in rites now lost to us, doubtless so terrible that no record was kept lest it should be revealed to profane eyes. Fasting and privation was used to purify the body and to break the spirit, bending the will of the acolyte to his master's behests. Should a youth repent of his decision and seek escape, the priests had many magics with which to weave a net around him.

It is said they could speak with each other over many leagues, from shrine to shrine. That which one priest was seeing could be revealed to another, and the face of a man sought by the priesthoods could be carried across the Empire in days. His very steps could be traced by sorcery immune to the vagaries of weather or attempts at deception. The emanations left by his very spirit would be revealed by mysterious means, an unbreakable trail. Small wonder that so few left the priesthood in those days.