First Comes The One Who Wanders (61 page)

They obviously had been warned he was coming this way. So, Jayram had been keeping track of him somehow, or had assumed he was headed for Dirth. It would help to know if he was making guesses or if his ability had grown.

Joshuas waited until he couldn’t hear his pursuers anymore then slid his sword in his sheath. While he was deciding which way would be the safest, he unclasped his insignia and slipped it in his tunic. If they were looking for him, he needed to find a disguise. Walking around in his Sky warrior clothes wasn’t going to get him into Dirth.

Despite the danger, he made his way back to the road. There were camps of soldiers dotted along the road for as far as he could see. Watching the soldiers until they began to nod off, he spied one about his size. Slipping out of the trees, he moved from tent to tent until he found the one the soldier had entered. Then cutting the back of the soldier's tent, he slipped inside.

There were two men sleeping in the small accommodation. It would have been simple to kill them in their beds, but Joshuas rejected the idea. He’d never killed except in self-defense or in battle. Moving as quietly as he could, he found the soldier’s pack and slipped back out of the tent. Digging through the contents quickly, he donned the smelly clothes. As he rounded the edge of the tent, a group of goblins walked by. They had bottles of some disgusting smelling brew.

"Get out of the way, human," one of them growled at him. "Your kind disgusts me." He pushed Joshuas to the side as they walked past. Joshuas stumbled and stood aside as they walked away. His hand had strayed to the hilt of his sword. But he knew it would be suicide to start a fight in the middle of an enemy encampment. Focusing on the task that Cephom had given him, he slipped back out of the camp.

Once he reached the forest, he searched the pack for anything else that could be of use. All he found was a cheap short sword, which he hung at his side, slipping his own sword underneath his cloak. Then, with regret, he left the pack and his clothes buried under a rock. It would be difficult to explain why he had them should he be stopped. Properly attired in his stolen clothing, Joshuas ventured onto the road and headed in the direction of Reyoro Dell. He didn’t move too fast, for fear of drawing attention to himself, but still he made better time on the road than he had been moving through the forest.

Most of the soldiers were lolling about, waiting for their turn at watch or just waiting for orders to move. The discipline in the camps was lax and Joshuas encountered few who even looked twice in his direction. Those who did notice him weren’t inclined to make a fuss over a human who seemed to be making his way toward Reyoro Dell.

If there were any Jovanulum in Reyoro Dell, they were well hidden. Joshuas didn’t encounter anyone but dark creatures and humans who were willing to follow their orders. If any of the people who lived in Reyoro Dell had an inclination to fight the overwhelming Dredracians, they were keeping their intentions well hidden.

Joshuas took care to avoid the tavern where the girl had recognized Leilas. He didn’t want to take the chance she might recognize him. Instead, he chose the inn. It was past midday, but the eating establishment was still full. The food they were serving smelled foul. Joshuas had thought he might get something to eat and a decent tankard of ale. He hadn’t thought about the clientele Reyoro Dell had been serving for months now. Sitting at an empty table, he ordered his drink. He refrained from trying the foul smelling fare. The barmaid placed his drink in front of him, and hesitated at his side. Under different circumstances, he would have spent a few minutes with the poor girl who spent her days with goblins, orcs, dark elves and all the others gathered here under the orders of the dark masters. But today he couldn’t help her. He was pretending to be one of these dark creatures. Had she picked him out because his disguise wasn’t good enough? Was there something about him that singled him out as different? He thought he’d made it through the guards because his costume was working. Were they simply letting him get far enough into the city to where he couldn’t escape? Or had she simply seen a stranger and he looked better than the other sort she had to choose from?

Joshuas looked around uneasily. He was surrounded by enemy soldiers. If he was detected, he wouldn’t stand much of a chance getting away alive. Taking a drink of the sour tasting beer, he shrank back further into the shadows. Perhaps he could still get some information out of this ill-considered stop.

A group of soldiers next to him was complaining about the bad food and poor conditions. The table past them was complaining about the humans. Joshuas listened intently to them while feigning interest only in his mug of beer.

"They say they're helping us," said one of the soldiers, "and they're more than willing to take our money. But the tallies keep coming up short. I don’t know why we pay them anyway."

"The masters say do business with them for now, that’s why." said one, who looked like he was the leader of the group. "The time will come when we can do what we want to them."

"It better come soon. I'm tired of waiting," said another, in a surly voice. "I don’t understand why we're waiting."

The leader shrugged. "The master said to wait. Do you want to question the gaunt masters?"

The soldier shivered and shook his head as he took a drink. Joshuas was surprised the gaunts had an effect on their people, too. "It’s just the longer we wait, the better organized those who are left become," said the soldier, setting down his mug.

"There aren’t enough to make a difference," said the leader.

"There are enough," said the other. "I see signs of their work every day. Soldiers disappear, supplies turn up missing, and weapons are just gone. You shouldn’t underestimate those who are willing to stand against such a force as this and resist."

Joshuas took a closer look at the man who was speaking. He didn’t strike him as the average dark soldier and he was correct. This man was a dark elf. Joshuas clenched his jaw in anger. These elves were the sworn enemies of the light elves, but they weren’t involved in this battle, at least not yet. Why had the dark elves chosen to join in the fight, now, when no elves were involved? How had the dark masters convinced them to join?

The leader of the group laughed. "I'm not paid to estimate anything. I'm paid to look tough and take care of problems. Maybe one of these days, I’ll get paid to destroy this disgusting city. I hate the light magic, it makes my skin crawl."

"I agree," said the elf. "I don’t know why they are waiting."

Joshuas scowled into his empty mug. He wasn’t certain he could stomach anymore. He'd learned enough for now. Dropping some coins on the table, he left the inn and continued until he was out of town. Then veering off into the forest, he went in search of food that was edible. The sour taste of the beer was beginning to make him sick. He quickly felled some birds and had them roasting over a sheltered fire. He drained his water skin, washing the foul taste out of his mouth then went looking for the creek he knew was nearby.

Although the town was almost unrecognizable, the land hadn’t changed, at least not yet. He’d heard the magic in the land could change, given enough time exposed to the opposite force. As far as he knew, it had never happened. No one had been able to deal with the ill effects of the opposite magic long enough, except the humans. The magic in the land didn’t seem to affect them as much. It was easier for them to move from light to dark, though they did have their calling. But they seemed to sway closer to one or the other depending on who ruled them. He supposed humans were to him what crafters were to elves, chaotic, and unpredictable. He’d met some, such as Daina, Brenth, Adrian, who were true and stood firm, but so many just drifted.

Filling his water skin, he headed toward his camp. He sensed them before he saw them, and drew his sword. Was he ever going to get to eat in this unlucky town? Creeping forward, he advanced on the people who'd invaded his camp. They were busy rummaging through his pack and eating his meat. They were all humans, looters, who made their living stealing. He stepped into the camp, sword drawn, expecting the thieves to scatter at the sight of an armed soldier. But they didn’t run. Instead, they pulled out weapons and began to advance. Only the dark elf’s words stayed Joshuas’ hand temporarily.

"You wouldn’t be resistance fighters, by chance?" he asked amiably, though his sword pointed warily in their direction.

"As if we would tell the likes of you if we were," said one of the men.

"If you were, then I wouldn’t have to kill you. Otherwise, I’m afraid I will."

"What’s to stop us from saying we are and killing you when you lower your guard?" said the spokesman.

Point taken," replied Joshuas, bringing up the tip of his sword.

One of the men stepped forward and whispered something in the spokesman’s ear. He looked more closely at the crafter standing in front of him.

"That is a fine sword," he said, moving to his left. The others moved to their right. "It belongs to a light soldier, why do you have it?"

Joshuas hadn’t been willing to give up his sword for the cheap vile weapon he’d found among the soldier’s stolen goods. He had kept his and hidden it in his cloak, wearing the cheap sword at his side. Instinctively, he’d grabbed his own weapon when it came to a fight.

"Perhaps because I am a Sky crafter," said Joshuas, moving toward one of the men trying to get behind him. "One more step and you’re dead, even if you are one of the underground fighters I heard about at the inn. I don’t have the luxury of being wrong. Now that I’ve told you who I am, you're dead men, unless you can convince me why I shouldn’t kill you."

"There are those you're talking about in the city," said the spokesman, motioning to the others with his eyes. "We've killed several. We're five to your one, and I'd like to have that sword."

"Then here it is," said Joshuas, thrusting it through his chest. Placing his foot on the man’s stomach, he wrenched his sword free, throwing the man’s body in the way of the blow aimed at him by another. The thieves might be murderers, but they weren’t trained fighters. It didn’t take Joshuas long to kill them all. Dragging their bodies deeper into the forest, he laid them out and sang briefly over them. Then, gathering his supplies, he headed through the forest toward Dirth. There had been a little of the meat left, which he ate as he walked. Perhaps the next time he went through this unlucky town, he might find some of the underground fighters. He'd like to know how strong they were and how much help they could be in the battle.

He didn’t stop until he reached the outer gates of Dirth. They were protected by big, burly looking guards. Soldier camps were set up from the gates to the forest, totally encircling the city. But Dirth wasn’t under siege. Darryl of Draggor had joined forces with the leaders of the dark armies, long before the conflict began.

How long ago that battle for Dirth seemed and yet it had been little more than a year since he’d come to warn the School of Sky of the attack on Dirth by Jayram and Darryl. The city had gone from bad to worse in that time. King Leyhan had Leilas’ influence to keep him from totally surrendering to the Dredracians pulling him. Darryl of Draggor didn’t have anyone like Leilas. Even if he had, thought Joshuas darkly, he probably would have killed them.

Darryl was Jayram’s man. But where were Jayram’s loyalties? He wasn’t one of the masters of the School of Land, though he wore the colors of Land as did his crafters. He had an army of crafters who fought for him, mostly mercenaries and wanderers. The masters of Land had allowed him to amass his army unchecked. Jayram was in the thick of this conflict, but if he was looking out for anyone but himself, Joshuas would have been surprised. Pulling his cloak a bit tighter and doing his best to look like the dark soldier he was pretending to be, Joshuas headed for the gates.

"Where do you think you are going, scum?" asked the guard at the gates, his voice hard. He was tall, broad and looked to be over six feet. Not that it mattered. Joshuas couldn’t start a fight here and not end up dead or in prison.

"I was on my way to the tavern," replied Joshuas, hoping that was a place the foot soldiers were allowed to go.

"You know only officers are allowed in the city, scum. Every day two dozen of your kind tries to get in. Go back to your camp before I lose my temper and decide to brain you."

"All I wanted was a drink," grumbled Joshuas, turning away from the gate. "I don’t see why the officers should get their thirst quenched if I can’t." He disappeared behind a tent as soon as he could, feeling the guard’s eye on him the entire way. He hoped his disgruntled soldier act had been convincing. Finding a place away from most of the camp traffic, he pondered on the best way to sneak into the city.

Leilas had said something about one of the tunnels leading out of the city. They were going to use it until they had been discovered by the enemy. In all likelihood, they weren’t guarding it closely now, with so many troops surrounding the city. All he had to do was find the opening.

Joshuas wished he'd questioned Leilas about the passage a little more closely. But then he hadn’t expected he’d need to sneak back into Dirth. What had she said about it? That it didn’t emerge until they were well out of the city. If that was the case, then he was far too close to the walls of Dirth. But what direction should he go? He closed his eyes and thought about their escape. The first passageway had been heading north, but she had planned on turning west. Still, that didn’t mean much. Those passages twisted and turned in every direction.