Faces of Deception (8 page)

“The Spine of the World Dragon,” Rishi announced, pointing at the peaks. “The valleys on your map lie there.”

Without any trees or animals for scale, Atreus could not quite comprehend the magnitude of the mountains. To him the range looked like the brink of the world, a sheer barrier of ice-coated spires as high as it was impassable.

“Men can live there?” asked Yago, incredulous.

“If it is the wish of the mountain gods,” said Bharat. He was facing the peaks, though his sightless eyes were fixed on the sky above. “But more often, it is their wish that men die there.”

“And how could a cowardly rug seller who has never ventured beyond the safety of the roads know such a thing?” demanded Rishi. He glanced over his shoulder at Atreus. “Pay Bharat no mind. It is said the Mar were born there, and of course that is where we shall find Langdarma … if we are strong enough.”

For the first time Atreus wondered if he was strong enough. On his map, the peaks were little more than circles of fanning lines, with the names of the valleys written along serpentine spaces below. There was nothing to suggest the staggering height of the mountains or the sheer rugged-ness of their ice-caked flanks. That a paradise could be hidden in such a place seemed impossible, and yet the sight made Atreus believe in Langdarma all the more strongly. Sune taught that beauty had to be guarded, and he could think of no better protection than those mountains.

“Perhaps the good sir and his servant would hide now?” asked Rishi. “Several roads pass along here, and we are certain to meet many foolish Mar who would be most alarmed to see Ysdar’s devil riding in a yak wagon.”

Atreus and Yago ducked down between the carpet rolls, half-covering themselves beneath the cotton tarp Bharat used as a dust shroud. Rishi slapped the reins, urging the yaks forward onto the precarious canyon trail. The listing track turned out to be more heavily traveled than any of the roads they had been on so far. Several times an hour, Atreus and Yago had to pull the dust shroud over their heads as Rishi eased to the side of the road to let pass another wagon or a caravan of yaks. Twice, after hearing of an approaching patrol, he and Yago hid in the rocks below the road bank.

As it happened, both patrols were heading back to the comforts of Edenvale and paid little attention to Rishi or the wagon. The leaders paused only long enough to brag about how close they had come to catching Ysdar’s devil, assuring the two carpet sellers that they themselves had chased the fiend deep into the mountains and made the Yehimals once again safe for travel. Rishi and Bharat thanked them profusely for their efforts, and when a passing salt caravan mentioned yet a third company down in the willows, no one thought it necessary for Atreus and Yago to leave the cart. The two westerners simply remained in back, peering out between their guides, ready to pull the dust shroud over their heads at an instant’s notice.

After a time they rounded a bend and felt cold vapor in the air. Perhaps a mile ahead the shoulder of the mountain curved away, exposing yet more of the snow-hummocked plateau and revealing the head of the canyon, where a lazy river came twining out of the willows to plunge into the gorge. The result was a beautiful horsetail waterfall, so long it turned to mist before reaching the rocks below.

The road left the mountainside just past the waterfall, then began branching off through the willows. One of the less traveled offshoots turned toward the sky-scratching peaks Rishi had pointed out as their destination, crossing the river via a suspension bridge of woven vines and swaying planks. They were halfway across when the third patrol emerged from the willows on the other side. The company had only two dozen warriors, but riding beside the leader was a small man in a cloak and sable hat. His face was paler and more fine-boned than those of his Mar companions, and in the crook of his arm he carried an elaborately carved staff decorated with mystic symbols.

“Now look what your greed has brought on us, Bharat,” hissed Rishi. “A wu-jen!”

“Wu-jen?” rumbled Yago.

“From Shou Lung,” Bharat explained.

“They are sorcerers of great skill. The equals of Ysdar himself, it is said,” Rishi said, speaking so softly that Atreus could barely hear him. “But I have dealt with their kind before. Cover yourselves and have no fear.”

Atreus and Yago slipped down between the carpet rolls and pulled the dust shroud over their heads, then listened to the wagon rumble the rest of the way across the bridge. At the far end Rishi pulled far enough ahead so that he was not blocking the way, then stopped.

“A pleasant afternoon to you and your men, sir,” said Rishi. “What news of Ysdar’s devil?”

“Many rumors, but no news,” came the leader’s unusually frank reply. The hollow clop of hooves on wood sounded behind the wagon as the patrol started across the bridge. “For all the havoc he is spreading, he has proven a most elusive devil.”

“Then you will certainly be pleased to hear that he has fled,” said Rishi. “Already this morning I have spoken to two different patrols who chased the devil deep into the Yehimals and were forced to turn back only because of enormous avalanches.”

The leader’s good-natured laugh was cut short by the angry Wu-jen. “In Shou Lung, we find little humor in failure. Naraka, it is your people’s barbaric love of lying that causes us to return without success. Had we not spent fifteen days chasing wild Mar rumors, I would have this devil hanging outside the Paradise Mahal already.”

“That is most certainly true, honored Wu-jen.” Rishi’s tone, at once sardonic and patronizing, managed to convey how sorry he felt that Naraka and his men had to endure such a pretentious Wu-jen. “I will not detain you further from your terribly important duties.”

Rishi slapped the reins, and the yaks started forward.

“Did I say you are free to go, driver?” asked the Wu-jen. “Wait one moment”

“Oh, begging the Wu-jen’s pardon!”

Rishi took his time halting the yaks, and the wagon traveled more than a dozen paces before coming to a stop “It was my impression that he had no interest in the words of a lying Mar,” Rishi explained.

“I find it wiser to pay more interest to what Mar do not say than to what they do,” retorted the Wu-jen. Atreus heard two ponies pass back along his side of the cart, but the rest of the patrol seemed to be continuing across the bridge. “Where do you come from?”

“Last night, we camped—”

“Not you, driver,” said the Wu-jen. “Let your master tell me.”

The two Mar were silent. For a moment, Atreus feared they were waiting for him to speak. Then the cart rocked as Bharat turned sideways.

“M-me?”

“Is there another master on the cart?” retorted the Wu-jen.

Atreus clutched his dagger. Not for the first time, he wished that he had grabbed his sword

instead of his gold when he jumped off the elephant.

When Bharat did not answer the Wu-jen, Rishi said, “I hope the Wu-jen will forgive my boldness, but he is terribly mistaken. I am the master here.”

“Truly?” asked the Wu-jen. “That is most surprising. I would have thought a blind master needs a seeing driver. Tell me, Blind Helper, why does a seeing master need you?”

“I am not a helper.” Bharat’s voice was indignant. “We are both bahrana carpet sellers. We are equals.”

“Ah, then why does the driver call himself master?”

“Because he is a liar and a thief who thinks he can cheat a blind man out of his due,” answered Bharat. “Tell me, good Wu-jen, is it fair that one man who is the equal of another should receive only a third of the profits?”

Atreus bit his lip to keep from snarling aloud at the veiled threat, but Rishi took it in stride.

“Pay the blind fool no attention,” said the Mar. “Certainly, the Wu-jen will agree that when one man does two-thirds of the work, he should have two-thirds of the reward?”

“The Wu-jen will agree that it is none of his concern,” replied the Wu-jen. “But a blind man’s senses are very sharp. Perhaps he hears this devil or smells him somewhere along the way?”

“No, I heard nothing unusual.” Bharat’s answer came quickly—too quickly, Atreus thought. “And it is impossible in this cart to smell anything but my greedy partner.”

“Ah, most unfortunate for us. But we are grateful for your candidness. It is very unusual for a Mar not to make up a story.” The Wu-jen’s voice grew less suspicious, though the irony in his words was not lost on Atreus. “By what road did you come?”

“By the Thanza road.” Rishi answered quickly, robbing Bharat of the chance to malign him further. “From Edenvale.”

“Of course … the Thanza road,” said the Wu-jen. “Strange, I do not recall anyone mentioning a blind merchant. You Mar are so full of gossip, and selling beautiful carpets is an uncommon occupation for a blind man.”

“That is easy to explain,” Rishi said. “The old fool cannot tell whether his eyelids are up or down. It often looks like he is napping. And now, if the great Wu-jen permits, we must be on our way. We have far to go before dark.”

“And where are you bound, Blind Man?”

Bharat hesitated. “I am not sure.”

“Not sure?” asked the Wu-jen.

“I am never certain where my lying partner is taking me.” Bharat shifted in his seat. “Since he does not consider me his equal, he does not often tell me.”

“You know this time,” Rishi said. “We have already agreed, and it is too late to change now.”

Bharat remained silent, and Atreus grew so angry that his hand began to hurt from squeezing his dagger. After this was over, he would let the pudgy Mar know what he thought of blackmail.

“I am waiting,” said the Wu-jen. “What is your destination?”

“Oh, begging the Wu-jen’s forgiveness,” said Bharat. “My friend is right. I recall now that we are going to Gyatse.”

Rishi groaned.

“To Gyatse?” scoffed Naraka, the patrol leader. “You cannot sell carpets in Gyatse.”

“If the patrol leader has stayed in Gyatse, perhaps he has noticed that they have only stone floors,” said Rishi. “There is not one carpet in the whole village… and a very cold village it is! They have a great need for our carpets.”

“Need, yes, but they are paupers in Gyatse,” said the Wu-jen. “The whole village together could not buy a single carpet. Perhaps we should look at these carpets.”

Atreus braced himself, ready to spring the instant the dust shroud was pulled back. Suddenly the wagon rocked, and Bharat cried, “Save me!”

Atreus flung off the dust shroud and saw Rishi holding Bharat by the shoulder of his cloak.

“Help! Ysdar’s devil has blinded me!” Bharat screamed and tried to fling himself off the wagon, but Rishi jerked him back to his seat.

Yago sat up facing the rear of the cart, and Atreus rolled to his knees facing the front. Outside the cart, the Wu-jen was twisting around to reach into his saddlebags while Naraka, on the far side of the sorcerer, was awkwardly trying to bring his lance to bear. Yago started to push himself out the back of the wagon, but Atreus caught the ogre by the shoulder and shook his head. The last thing he wanted was to fight it out with Naraka’s patrol here.

Bharat continued to struggle, crying, “They’re after my gold!”

Rishi’s free hand flashed up and struck Bharat in the gullet, then whipped back, launching something small and silver in the opposite direction. The Wu-jen screeched and clutched at a tiny dagger protruding from his throat, and Bharat tumbled back into Atreus’s lap, coating everything in the cargo bed with gouts of warm, coppery blood.

As Atreus struggled with Bharat’s gurgling form, Rishi ducked Naraka’s awkward lance thrust, then slapped the yaks with the reins. The wagon lurched forward and the leader began to shout at his patrol. Atreus pushed aside Bharat’s gurgling form and spun toward the rear of the wagon, expecting to find Yago struggling to block half a dozen flying lances.

Instead most of the patrol was on the other side of the river struggling to organize itself. Only the last three riders in line were able to answer their commander’s call, and even they were just backing their ponies off the bridge.

“I could go wreck that bridge,” suggested Yago. As he spoke, the ogre struggled in the cramped space to gather his legs beneath him. “Wouldn’t take much to get past them three riders.”

Atreus shook his head. “If it did, you’d be trapped and alone,” he said. “Better to stay together.”

“Help!” screamed Rishi. “Help—he will kill me!”

Atreus turned to find Rishi trying to duck Naraka’s lance and steer at the same time. He caught the weapon by the shaft and shoved it away, then peered around the front edge of the canopy.

When Naraka saw Atreus’s hideous, blood-covered face, he shrieked and released his end of the lance to reach for his sword. Atreus jammed the butt into the patrol leader’s chest and pushed hard. Naraka fell, dragging his pony down on top of himself, then tumbled away into the snowy willows.

“Hah! Well done, good sir!” Rishi said, then dragged himself back onto the bench and slapped the reins, somehow urging more speed from the trotting yaks. “That will delay them!”

Atreus glanced back and saw that the three pursuers from the bridge had indeed seized on their leader’s fall as an excuse to stop. One of the riders was kneeling on the road, holding the limp Wu-jen in his lap while another man pressed his ear to the sorcerer’s chest. The third was dismounting near where Naraka had tumbled into the willows, calling down over the road bank to see if he needed any help.

Now that the immediate danger was past, Atreus’s ears began to pound with anger. He used his sleeve to wipe Bharat’s blood from his face, then slapped Rishi’s head with the shaft of Naraka’s lance.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Wrong with me?” Rishi asked. He leaned away, rubbing the side of his head. “I am not the one beating my poor servant for no good reason.”

“Murder is not a reason?” Atreus asked. He ducked into the wagon and touched his fingers to Bharat’s slit throat. There was no pulse. “This wasn’t necessary.”

“Many profuse apologies for any mistake the good sir thinks I have made, but Bharat betrayed us. He deserved to die.”

“He was your friend,” Atreus retorted. “Losing his third of the gold would have been punishment enough. You could have let him jump, and it would have been the same to us.”