Faces of Deception (10 page)

The splashing slowly faded as the last of Naraka’s men rejoined the patrol, and the swamp fell ominously silent. After a few moments, the sound of murmuring voices began to filter through the willows, occasionally punctuated by the soft crackle of snapping sticks.

“The fiend,” Rishi hissed. “Does he care nothing for his men and his ponies?”

“What’s he doing?” Yago asked.

“Preparing a camp.” Rishi shook his head sadly, then cast an accusatory glance in Atreus’s direction. “How unfortunate the good sir did not kill him when he had the chance. His mercy will cost us many hours of cold misery and perhaps a few toes as well.”

Rishi urged the yaks onto a small hummock in the heart of the thicket. The hungry beasts immediately pawed through the snow and began to tear at the mossy grass beneath. The Mar slid off his mount, freeing the rucksack with a single tug on the rope.

“Hurry. We must make camp before dark.” Rishi turned to Yago. “The marsh is full of good things to eat. If you go down by the water, I am sure you will catch something.”

“Eels?” Yago licked his lips. Whole raw eels were an ogre delicacy, second only to bear brains. “I could swallow a dozen of them at once!”

“Fish,” Rishi said. “I fear the water is too cold for eels.”

The ogre’s face fell, but he went to kneel at the water’s edge. Atreus dropped his treasure coffer into the snow, then swung an aching leg over the yak’s shoulders and slid to the ground. The impact sent waves of agony shooting up his cold legs, but he felt no sensation at all in his feet.

“There is no need for concern,” Rishi said, eyeing Atreus’s clumsy limp. “The feeling will come back when you start to move.”

Rishi passed him an extra cloak from the rucksack and set to work stomping down a place to sleep. Atreus took the sword and began to cut willows for insulation. As promised, the feeling soon returned to Atreus’s feet, and he wished it had not. The flesh felt as if it were on fire, and the bones underneath ached with the cold. He hacked all the harder.

The light was just starting to fade when a sporadic series of screeches and agonized whinnies echoed across the swamp. Hardly able to believe the awful sound was being made by ponies, Atreus stopped work and looked up. In the twilight sky, he could barely make out three distant columns of smoke.

“In the name of Sune,” Atreus gasped. “What’s Naraka doing? Burning his ponies alive?”

“That is no doubt what the poor beasts fear, but we are not to be so lucky,” said Rishi. “The ponies must be warmed and dried before the night turns cold, or ice will form on their legs and perhaps cripple them before morning.”

Atreus glanced at the grazing yaks, who seemed quite content with the snowy ice balls hanging from their shaggy legs.

“Oh no, do not worry about the yaks,” laughed Rishi. “For them, cold is better. If not for us, they could keep going all night.”

This turned Atreus’s thoughts to his own soggy feet. He cleared a place for a fire and gathered several handfuls of brown grass from under the hummock’s heavy thatch. Rishi looked increasingly distressed as Atreus began to stack dead willow stalks next to the fire pit. When he withdrew his flint and steel from the rucksack, the Mar could contain his alarm no longer.

“Excuse me, but surely the good sir is not thinking of making a fire.”

“He is doing more than thinking of it,” Atreus replied. “His feet are wet and cold, and he wants to be able walk when he gets out of this swamp.”

Rishi paled. “Perhaps the good sir is unaccustomed to the trials of being a fugitive. Even if the patrol cannot see the fire’s light, we are upwind. They will smell the smoke and follow it to us.”

Atreus turned toward the frigid channel, where Yago was kneeling on the shore with his arm thrust into the swamp up to the elbow. “Through that water? Impossible!”

Rishi calmly removed his boots and trousers, stepped past Yago, and waded out into the icy swamp. He turned to face Atreus. “How l-long would you like me to stay?”

Yago raised his brow at the Mar’s strange behavior, then gasped and looked back into the water. There was a brief splash, and he flipped an odd two-foot fish up onto the hummock. With a bulldog jaw and a long round body striped with brown and yellow scales, the thing looked like a hybrid of catfish and grayling. As soon as it hit the snow, it began to flop about, working its way back toward the water.

Yago lunged up the hill to pin down his catch, and Atreus turned back to Rishi.

“All right, no fire.” He waved the Mar out of the water. “But I thought you said Edenvale Mar had no determination?”

“I do not think Naraka is from Edenvale.” Rishi climbed ashore and began drying his legs with grass. “But he will certainly turn back in the morning. He is only hoping we will be foolish enough to make a fire tonight and lead him to us.”

Yago looked at his catch. “No fire?”

Atreus put the flint and steel away. “Afraid not.”

“Great,” the ogre grumbled. “As if eatin’ fish wasn’t bad enough.”

He killed the swamp fish with a bite to the back of the neck, then began to devour it, scales and all. Atreus and Rishi made do with a dinner of raw barley in warm yak milk, and the sun vanished, plunging the camp into chilling darkness. Rishi brought the yaks over to the bed he had prepared, forcing them to lie down about three feet apart, with their backs toward each other and their heads at opposite ends. He tethered them in place by tying each beast’s lead to the tail of the other one.

Atreus removed his boots and put on a dry pair of socks. He and Rishi wrapped themselves in their extra cloaks and settled down between the yaks, each clutching the other one’s feet to his chest. Yago laid down on the outside of the makeshift shelter, curling up beside one of the shaggy beasts.

They did not really sleep. The temperature plunged, and they spent most of the night shivering. Atreus’s feet ached terribly, and Rishi assured him this was a good sign. When his toes started to sting a few hours later, the Mar said this was even better. Yago fidgeted relentlessly, rocking his yak back and forth, and at one point cursed the beast for not being still. At first, Atreus watched the constellations, trying to mark the time by their progress. Later, he tried to avoid looking at them. The minutes were passing like hours, and what movement he did notice only made him think of the dropping temperature.

After what felt like a hundred frozen hours, Rishi suddenly sat up and pulled on his boots, declaring the time had come to rise. While the Mar untethered and milked the yaks, Yago went down to the channel and punched through the ice crust that had formed during the night, returning with two more big swamp fish. Confident they would be gone before Naraka’s men could find their campsite, they started a fire and gorged themselves on a warm meal.

The hot food rejuvenated Atreus. He soon found himself optimistic enough to remove his tattered map from inside his tunic and examine it in the firelight. Gyatse was the first valley on the chart, and from what he had heard the people there would welcome a few gold coins. Perhaps that would be a good place to replenish their supplies. Of course, Rishi would have to do the buying. One look at Atreus’s face and the Mar would flee for their lives.

Yago peered over Atreus’s shoulder, squinting at the meaningless squiggles. “That thing say how far is it to Rishi’s secret caravan road?”

“If it did, the road would not be much of a secret,” said Rishi.

Yago frowned, then reached down to tap the map with a big greasy finger. “But this is a map. It tells us how to find stuff.”

“Not Rishi’s road.” Atreus did not attempt to explain further. He had tried a dozen times to help Yago understand the mystery of map reading, but the ogre still found the lines and symbols impossible to decipher. Consequently, the ogre regarded maps as some sort of divining magic. “We’ll just have to be patient.”

Atreus folded the map and returned it to his tunic, then helped Rishi load the yaks while Yago cleaned and re-bandaged his wound. They transferred half the gold to the rucksack so Rishi could lash a balanced load onto shoulders of the lead yak, and by the time they finished, the gray glow of first light was showing in the eastern sky. Naturally, Rishi insisted on riding with the treasure, but Atreus did not worry about being abandoned. Half the gold remained safely locked in its inviolable coffer, and he knew the Mar would never settle for half when he could have all.

The yaks plunged into the swamp without hesitation, their hooves crashing through the thick ice and leaving an easy path to follow. Atreus hardly cared. Without the coffer, he could sit sidesaddle on his yak and hold his feet out of the water, and that alone was a good start to the day.

The sky had just brightened to the color of blue steel when Naraka’s patrol began to splash up from behind. They were moving fast and in a large group, eager to catch up before the sun melted the ice away.

“I guess Naraka didn’t turn back after all,” Atreus noted.

“Naraka is a terrible bully who is driving his men beyond all endurance,” Rishi said. “The good sir may rest assured that they will certainly rebel against—”

“I don’t think we’d better count on that,” Atreus interrupted. “And we can’t outrun their ponies, not when we’re so easy to track.”

Rishi glanced toward the eastern horizon, where the sun had not yet risen high enough to show itself over the tall willows. “The sun will melt this ice very soon, and then—”

“I need no hollow assurances, Rishi. We all know they’ll catch up long before this ice melts,” Atreus said as he urged his mount up beside the Mar’s. “Do you have any of your throwing daggers left?”

Rishi lifted his brow. “Has the master decided it is necessary to kill our pursuers?”

Atreus shook his head. “No, but the time has come to chase them off. How many daggers do you have?”

“Enough.” Rishi opened his cloak, revealing two long lines of small silver hilts.

Atreus turned to Yago. “How does your shoulder feel?”

The ogre reached over and used his injured arm to pluck a willow bush out by its roots. “A little stiff, but ready enough to swing a club.”

Atreus grinned and said, “Follow me.”

He urged his yak ahead of Rishi’s and led the way through the winding channels, all the time listening to the splashing of Naraka’s ponies grow louder. After a time, the channel curled around the head of a small, willow-screened hummock. Atreus and Rishi tethered their yaks on the far side, then the three companions sneaked back across the little island and crouched behind the willows on the other side. In front of them lay the passage through which they had just ridden, their path clearly marked by the channel of broken ice.

The patrol was so close that Atreus could hear murmuring voices and snorting ponies, but it seemed to take forever to arrive. He felt himself growing numb in the cold air and began to squeeze the hilt of his stolen sword, trying to keep his arm from growing stiff. Finally, Naraka came trotting into sight, his eyes fixed on the channel of broken ice. As soon as he saw the hairpin curve ahead, the captain slowed and began to scan the willows along the banks.

Atreus cursed silently and laid down in the snow, motioning for Yago and Rishi to do likewise. Naraka continued cautiously ahead, his eyes working the shore methodically, looking first high then low, low then high, then finally moving on to the next thicket.

Atreus held his hand palm up, signaling his companions to remain still. “Catch-and-club” had been a favorite game among his ogre siblings, and he had learned early that motion attracts attention. As long as they remained as still as the willows screening them, they would not be noticed.

Naraka’s gaze reached their thicket, and Rishi gasped almost audibly. Atreus frowned at the Mar, silently willing him to hold his breath. Naraka glanced the base of the willow screen, then ran his eyes up the length of the stalks and back down again. He paused for a moment, then finally moved on.

Atreus let his breath out, waiting as the rest of the patrol followed Naraka into the channel. He did not move until Naraka was halfway to the bend and there were a half-dozen riders in the water in front of them.

“Remember, don’t kill them,” Atreus whispered. “What we need is a panic, not an angry mob.”

“I understand.” Rishi rose to a crouch. “Your plan is very wise and clear.”

Rishi pulled three little knives from inside his cloak. Yago rose to his knees and cupped his hands, holding them about two feet apart. Atreus gathered his legs beneath him, ready to jump to the Mar’s defense if matters did not go as planned, then nodded.

Rishi leaped into the willows, splashing through the ice at the edge of the thicket. Several riders cried out in alarm and jerked their mounts around just as the Mar hurled his first dagger. Yago brought his hands together, creating a deep booming clap at about the same time the blade sank into the shoulder of the closest pony.

The beast whinnied and reared wildly, hurling its astonished rider from the saddle. He bounced off the pony behind him and splashed face first into the icy water, then surfaced an instant later, shrieking as though he were the one who had been wounded.

Naraka spun on his saddle, screaming orders and reaching for his sword. Several riders lowered their lances, and Rishi hurled another dagger. Yago clapped his hands, and again the blade caught a pony in the shoulder. The creature shrieked and shied away, then touched the ice crust behind it and bolted down the channel. A trio of riders managed to retain control of their mounts, urging them into a stiff, chill-legged charge.

“One more!” Atreus called.

Rishi hurled his third dagger, and again Yago clapped. This time, several ponies flinched noticeably. The beast leading the charge turned its head as though to wheel around, but it was the middle pony that caught the dagger—in the shoulder, as before—and went down.

The lead rider jerked his mount back into the charge, closing to within two paces of the willows where Rishi stood fumbling for another throwing dagger. Atreus jumped into the thicket and shoved the Mar aside, raising his sword even as he cursed the icy water pouring into his frozen boots. The rider’s eyes widened. He cried out something about “Ysdar’s devil” and turned his lance toward Atreus.