Faces of Deception (9 page)

“And what of the Wu-jen?” Rishi asked indignantly. “Should I have spared his life as well? Or does killing only bother you when it is someone you know?”

“Unnecessary killing bothers me,” Atreus said. “The Wu-jen’s death was necessary to avoid capture.”

“I see,” said Rishi. “A very convenient distinction. I will try to keep it in mind so as not to offend the good sir in the future.”

“Uh—forget that Wu-jen,” said Yago. “Tell me what you want done about them.”

Thirty paces down the road, Naraka’s men were reluctantly urging their mounts into a charge. With the riders stirrups nearly dragging the ground and the necks of the little ponies stretched forward in a fierce gallop, the sight seemed almost comical save for the sharp points of their lances and how rapidly they were to coming up behind the wagon.

“Can you make this cart go any faster?”

“Certainly … if I find a long hill and cut the yaks free,” Rishi replied. “Until then, perhaps you would consider our pursuers? If you delay them for only five minutes, we can flee into the willows and escape to our secret caravan road. After that, the gods themselves will not find us.”

Atreus thought for a moment, then shoved Bharat’s body toward Yago. “Get him out of the way.”

The ogre pitched the stout Mar out onto the road.

Atreus grabbed the dust cover and fed it over the rearmost canopy brace, draping it down to prevent Naraka’s riders from hurling their lances into the wagon. He cut a tiny square out of one corner so he could see, then had Yago pick up the heaviest carpet in the cargo bed. By the time they finished, Naraka and his leading riders were only a few paces away, with the rest of the patrol hard on their heels.

Naraka barked an order, and the riders in front grasped their lances like spears. Watching through his viewing hole, Atreus realized that the Edenvale Mar were not quite as foolish as Rishi made them sound. Naraka rode up beside the wagon and reached out to jerk down the improvised curtain.

“Now, Yago!” Atreus shouted.

Yago shoved the carpet out under the dust cover, giving it a sideways spin so that it turned across the road. The six closest riders barely had time to curse before the heavy roll caught their mounts across the front legs. The ponies went down in a screeching mass, filling the air with a cacophony of panicked whinnies and clanging equipment An instant later, the second rank of riders crashed into the mess and tumbled over their fallen comrades, stretching the mayhem another dozen paces up the road. The men at the end of the column avoided the snarl of legs and lances by swerving into the willows, then returned to the road with their weapons ready to hurl.

Yago grabbed a second carpet roll. Naraka’s hand grabbed the edge of the dust cover.

“Duck!” Atreus yelled.

The wagon swerved as Rishi obeyed. Naraka jerked the curtain down, and the riders launched their lances. Atreus hunched down behind the wagon’s tailgate and heard three quick thuds and a wet thwack as one of the missiles sank into Yago’s shoulder. The remaining lances hissed through the length of the cargo bed to clatter off the driver’s bench.

“Not to complain, but are you doing anything back there?” Rishi demanded.

Yago shoved the carpet onto the road. The roll caught two of the galloping ponies across the breast and slid down to their legs. The beasts and their riders went screeching and tumbling in four different directions, tripping three more ponies and leaving only one of Naraka’s men in pursuit.

“Here!” Yago plucked the lance out of his shoulder and passed it over.

Atreus wasted no time hurling it at the rider’s chest. The man threw himself out his saddle and barely escaped being impaled. Naraka himself came swinging around the corner of the cargo canopy, sword blade flashing. Atreus caught the assault at the wrist almost casually, grabbed his attacker by the throat, and jerked him into the wagon.

Naraka landed on his back beside Yago, his sword arm pinned to the floor. He brought a knee up and slammed it into Atreus’s side, then tried to jerk his weapon free. Atreus merely grunted, having suffered a thousand blows far more powerful at the hands of his ogre siblings. He began to squeeze Naraka’s throat.

“I’ll have the sword whether you release it or not,” Atreus warned. “The only thing you control is whether or not I crush your windpipe to get it.”

For the first time, Naraka really seemed to look at Atreus’s bloody face. His eyes grew as round as coins, and his lips trembled and glistened with sweat. Yago sat up and ripped the cloak off Naraka’s shoulders, using it to start bandaging his wound. The patrol leader released his sword and began to babble wildly in Maran.

Rishi laughed. “He is calling upon the Old Gods to accept his death on the queen’s behalf and smite down Ysdar’s devil.”

Atreus’s heart filled with dismay. The reaction was little different than the one his appearance usually evoked. An ugly face could not be human. He tossed Naraka’s sword to the other side of the cart, then released the Mar.

“I am no monster,” he said. “Leave me alone, and you have nothing to fear.”

Naraka swallowed and glanced nervously away, then found himself staring into Yago’s purple eyes. He screamed and reached for his belt dagger. Atreus slapped the hand down, gently removed the knife, and tossed it over beside the sword. Naraka spit in his face and cursed him in Maran.

“Oh, now you are in trouble,” chuckled Rishi. He was alternating between steering the wagon and glancing back over his shoulder. “That stupid Mar thinks you will not kill him because you fear the vengeance of the Old Gods. It would be wise to prove him wrong.”

“I won’t kill him in cold blood.” Atreus glared at Naraka.

“I mean no harm to you or your queen, so I have nothing to fear from your gods. Do you understand?”

Naraka’s face remained wild with fear, and his eyes began to search the wagon for a weapon.

Atreus looked to Rishi. “Does he understand?”

“Who can tell?” Rishi shrugged. “He is mad with fear. If you do not wish to kill him, then at least let Yago break an arm or a leg. Otherwise he will hound us all the way to Langdarma.”

“Rishi, enough!” Atreus looked back to his prisoner and spoke in a calm voice. “I know you understand me. I mean no harm to you or Queen Rosalind.”

“Lying devil!” Naraka hissed. “You have done much harm already! You have killed the queen’s Wu-jen!”

“It was not my intent, nor was it my fault,” Atreus replied. “Had Queen Rosalind shown me the courtesy she would have shown any handsome man, there would never have been trouble between us.”

Atreus glanced back and saw Naraka’s warriors beginning to mount and draw swords. Reluctant as they had been to attack earlier, they were not about to abandon their leader to Ysdar’s devil. Atreus swung his prisoner to the rear of the wagon.

“Leave me alone, and there will be no more trouble between us. Tell your queen that.”

With that, he hefted Naraka over the tailgate and dropped him to the road. Naraka rolled once, then came up screaming in Maran. Rishi slapped the reins, shaking his head. “Oh, my, what a curse!” he said. “The good sir is certainly going to wish he had broken something on that stupid Mar….”

They pulled the wagon down into the willows, into two feet of cold, clear water, and when Atreus jumped in, his legs went instantly numb. He took Naraka’s sword and the hastily loaded rucksack from Yago, then waded forward to where Rishi was freeing the yaks from their harnesses.

“I d-don’t think this will w-work,” Atreus chattered. “We’ll f-freeze to death.”

“The good s-sir may have f-faith in his servant.” Rishi’s hands were shaking so badly he could barely work. “It is our p-pursuers who will freeze, not us. We have yaks.”

A loud splash sounded from the rear of the wagon, then Yago said, “Ch-chilly!”

The ogre stooped down and began to bathe his wounded shoulder in the cold water, moving his arm back and forth to work the stiffness out.

“What about Yago?” Atreus kept his voice low. “He’s too big for a yak.”

“He will find plenty to eat in the swamp. That will keep him warm.” Rishi motioned for the rucksack. “The only other choice is to confront our pursuers, and then there will certainly be much killing, which I know the good sir finds so distasteful.”

Seeing that the Mar was right, Atreus hoisted the rucksack onto a yak’s back. Rishi slipped a rope through the shoulder straps and pulled it toward the beast’s withers, then frowned and hefted its weight.

“My goodness, this is light,” Rishi remarked. “What does it contain?”

“Our bedrolls and extra cloaks, the last of our food, the cooking pot and water-skins—”

“And what of your treasure coffer?” Rishi broke in.

“My treasure coffer? Even if we had a way to carry it, we don’t have time—”

“If you don’t bring the coffer, how can you pay me?” demanded Rishi. “You have your own reasons for seeking Langdarma. I am doing it for the gold.”

“But Naraka’s patrol is—”

“Had the good sir listened to his guide and killed Naraka, the patrol would undoubtedly have turned back by now,” Rishi said as he stepped away from the yak. He stood with arms folded, leaving the rucksack to hang half secured. “You may spare your enemies if you wish, but your kindness will not cost me my fortune.”

Atreus sighed and glanced through the willows back toward the road. When he saw no sign of Naraka’s patrol, he nodded reluctantly. “If we can carry it,” he said. “Yago’s in no condition—”

“Yaks can carry anything,” Rishi said, resuming his work. “You will see.”

Atreus laid his sword on the rucksack, securing it in place beneath the cinch rope, then waded over to the front of the wagon. His numb feet were little more than frozen weights, and they slipped twice as he pulled himself onto the driver’s footboard. He kneeled on the bench and leaned into the back, reaching for his treasure basket.

The sound of approaching hooves began to drum down the road. Atreus peered out through the back of the cargo bed, looking through the long tunnel of smashed willows the wagon had left in its wake. The leaves were too thick to see up onto the road, but he had little doubt about whom he was hearing. He threw open the treasure basket, then groaned as he hefted the heavy coffer out.

“Here,” said Yago. “I’ll take that.”

Atreus turned to find his friend standing beside the driver’s bench, both arms extended to take the coffer. Though the ogre’s face betrayed no hint of his pain, he could not quite lift his wounded arm high enough to accept the box.

Atreus shook his head. “You rest your arm, “he said. “ We might need it later.”

The sound of the drumming hooves grew louder. Rishi came over with the yaks and gently shouldered Yago aside. The Mar was sitting sidesaddle on the lead mount, holding a willow switch in one hand and the second beast’s tether in the other.

“Perhaps you will hold the coffer until we have time to secure it,” said Rishi. “It should not be long. Most likely, our pursuers will not even notice where we left the road.”

Up on the road, Naraka chattered several commands in Maran, and the galloping hooves suddenly slowed.

“They noticed,” Yago growled.

“It means nothing.” Rishi waved Atreus toward the yak. “If you will be so kind as to mount, they cannot follow us into the swamp.”

Atreus threw a leg over the yak and settled down behind its humped shoulders. He saw at once why Rishi had chosen to sit sidesaddle. Straddling the creature’s broad back was incredibly uncomfortable, but with both hands holding the coffer, the only way to keep his balance was to squeeze the beast between his knees.

The rattle of falling stones sounded from the road bank. A single pony whinnied as it stepped into the icy water.

Rishi tapped his yak on the neck. The beast turned away from the wagon and started into the swamp, drawing Atreus’s mount along. The creatures had an awkward, rolling gait, and Atreus found himself instantly in danger of falling off. He braced the heavy coffer on the yak’s hump and pressed his heels into its belly and tried not to think of the icy water below. Yago followed along close behind, his splashing feet masking the softer babble of the yak’s hooves. If the ogre found the frigid water more than merely uncomfortable, he betrayed no sign.

A few moments later, Naraka’s scout gave the alarm cry. The patrol leader started barking orders, and the rest of his men clattered down into the willows, their ponies whinnying at the freezing water.

“They will certainly turn back soon,” Rishi whispered. “These Edenvale Mar have no determination.”

Rishi steered the yaks down a meandering labyrinth of narrow tunnel-like passages, always working to keep a screen of thickets between them and their pursuers. They passed a snow-covered hummock, and the yaks stopped and started to nose for grass. Rishi cursed the lead animal softly and slapped its neck. The reluctant beast finally turned away and continued forward.

Naraka’s patrol stayed close behind, splashing through the swamp in a long, evenly spaced line. Rishi kept looking back over his shoulder and scowling, then turning to Atreus to reassure him that their pursuers would soon give up. Instead, the ponies drew ever nearer, whinnying and snorting with every step. Atreus could well understand their displeasure. He could not keep his own feet from dragging in the frigid swamp, and they had become little more than frozen weights. Only Yago, with his thick layer of ogre fat, seemed as unaffected by the cold as the shaggy yaks.

After a time, the sky started to gray with oncoming dusk. A chill breeze rose from the east and wafted across the swamp. Atreus and Rishi fell to shivering, and even Yago commented once or twice on the cold. Behind them, the ponies grew quiet, save for an occasional splash when one stumbled and spilled its rider into the water.

At last, Naraka began to shout orders in Maran, his voice echoing through the swamp first in one direction, then the other. Rishi sighed in relief, as he guided the yaks into the heart of the willow thicket and stopped.

“Naraka is calling his men to him,” the Mar explained. “They will certainly turn back now.”

As the ponies splashed toward Naraka’s voice, Atreus allowed himself the luxury of lifting his sodden boots out of the water. Though his feet felt as heavy and dead as stones, his lower legs were throbbing stumps of cold pain. His thighs ached from squeezing his mount, and the effort of balancing the heavy coffer had numbed his shoulders with fatigue. He could not imagine passing the night in this cold swamp, and yet he did not see how they could spend it anywhere else.