Legends of the Riftwar (32 page)

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Authors: Raymond E. Feist

BOOK: Legends of the Riftwar
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Dennis dropped Barry, reaching down to scoop up the blade which the sergeant had let slip. Sugama was backing up with a look Dennis
had seen all too many times in a man's eyes, the realization that death was closing in and that he was the one to deliver it.

‘Hartraft, no!'

It was Asayaga trying to move between them but Dennis ignored his cry. He drove Barry's dagger into Sugama's stomach, and letting go, stepped back.

Sugama, with a gasp, collapsed against the side of the feasting table, wide eyes looking down at the dagger in his gut and then he stared accusingly at Asayaga and said something in Tsurani.

‘This is your fault, Asayaga–' Dennis half-heard Tinuva whispering a translation ‘–you dishonour our ancestors by drinking with our foes. I curse you and all who follow you.'

Dennis turned back to Barry and knelt down by his side. It was obvious that the wound was fatal, and already Barry's features were taking on the sickly pallor of death.

‘So much for trusting the bastards,' Barry whispered.

‘I'm sorry,' Dennis gasped.

‘Stabbed me with my own knife,' Barry sighed, his words drifting off and then he was still.

Dennis stood up slowly. The room was in deadly silence. Sugama lay on the table, curled up, looking back bitterly at Dennis, several men gathered by his side. In a cold rage, Dennis swept up a knife still on the table and started towards him.

Asayaga moved to get between them.

‘Let me finish the bastard,' Dennis said coldly.

‘He's dying already. You've given him a warrior's death.' Whispering, he quickly added, ‘If you had not struck, I would have hanged him in dishonour, and my men would have come to heel, but now I fear we are beyond that. I cannot let you finish him while he can't defend himself. Let him die quietly.'

‘To hell with that, he murdered one of my men! Step aside, Tsurani.'

‘No.'

Dennis raised his knife and went into a fighting crouch, and as he did so all the men around them started to back up. He ignored the screams of Alyssa, the hoarse cries of Wolfgar.

‘You could have stopped him but you didn't,' Dennis accused.

‘He's as quick as a viper.' Asayaga said, ‘I was waiting for the moment to grab him. I didn't think he'd strike again.'

‘Step aside.'

‘No. I can't, Hartraft, not with him already dying!' Asayaga cried. ‘He was unarmed when you stabbed him and if I let you finish him I will lose my men. You must understand that.'

‘Then take a blade, Tsurani.'

Asayaga didn't move.

‘Take a blade!'

Asayaga, eyes fixed on Dennis, held a hand out to his side, and one of his men gave him a dagger.

It was Tinuva who finally moved between them, his back to Asayaga, eyes fixed on Dennis.

‘Out of the way!' Dennis cried.

‘Look past Asayaga, to the door,' Tinuva said quietly.

Dennis shifted his gaze and saw that Roxanne was standing by the doorway. Leaning against her was young Richard. For a second he thought that the boy had been injured in the fight as well, then realized that his assigned post for the day was at the northern pass.

All eyes in the room shifted to Roxanne as she helped Richard into the room, leading him around Asayaga, to stand in front of Dennis, and Dennis slowly rose from his fighting crouch.

The boy stiffened, as if trying to come to attention. ‘The moredhel,' Richard whispered. ‘Sir, the moredhel are through the pass.'

There was stunned silence. Tinuva tried to take the boy from Roxanne, but he refused, struggling to stand alone.

‘Sir–' His eyes closed for a moment and he collapsed.

Dennis caught him in his arms. Richard opened his eyes again. ‘Sir, I'm sorry about Jurgen. I'm so sorry.'

‘That's all right, boy,' Dennis replied. ‘Now tell me what happened.'

‘Jurgen, sir, I'm sorry.'

‘That's all right boy. Now tell me.'

Richard coughed, bright blood flecking his lips. ‘It was Corwin. Poisoned the others, stabbed me. Sir, he was a spy for the moredhel.'

A murmur ran through the room.

‘Around noon. He stabbed me in the back and left me for dead.'

‘Noon. They could be here any minute,' Gregory hissed.

Dennis looked up at Gregory who instantly barked a command for the Kingdom troops to get their weapons. An explosion of activity swept the room. Asayaga shouted and his men ran for their gear as well but Dennis stayed with Richard, still holding him.

‘I'm sorry about Jurgen.'

‘That's all right son,' Dennis said again softly. ‘He'd have done it for any man.'

‘He rode with me back here,' Richard said with a soft smile lighting his face. ‘I fell off my horse and wanted to sleep and he woke me up. Said I had to warn you and he would ride with me. He's waiting outside for me now.'

Dennis could feel the hair rise on the back of his neck and he looked to the open doorway.

‘And sir, I was to tell you–' Richard closed his eyes again for a moment.

‘Yes?'

The boy stirred. ‘It was Corwin who betrayed your keep.'

‘What?'

‘He murdered the watchers guarding the pass. Bovai sent him to kill you. He couldn't do that, so he killed the guards, letting the Tsurani in on the night you were married. He was the one who did it. He was the one who fired the bolt that killed your wife as well, though the shot was meant for you.'

Stunned, Dennis leaned back, still holding Richard. His mind flashed back to the night at the keep, and now he realized why Corwin had looked familiar. For the briefest of moments, across from the tunnel exit, he had seen a man at the woodline, holding a crossbow, illuminated by the flickering light of the burning keep. He had been younger, and thinner, but it had been Corwin he had glimpsed as the man turned to flee.

Someone was crying and Dennis looked up to see young Osami kneeling down, reaching out and taking Richard's hand.

Richard smiled. ‘My friend,' Richard whispered in Tsurani. He turned his head to look out the open door. ‘Jurgen said for you to live…' and then he closed his eyes and his spirit slipped away.

‘He's gone.'

Dennis looked up. It was Roxanne.

‘You must act, Hartraft: the boy is gone,' she said. ‘There is nothing more to be done for him, poor lad.'

Dennis nodded and released his grasp on the still body. Osami took the burden from him, gently smoothing the tangle of hair from Richard's brow and weeping.

Dennis stood up. Asayaga was before him. He looked past Asayaga to the body lying on the table. Sugama was dead. Dennis looked back at Barry who was dead as well. Several of his men had ignored the command to gather their weapons and were crouching by the side of the sergeant, eyes filled with hatred for Asayaga.

‘We settle this later, Hartraft,' Asayaga said coldly.

Dennis nodded.

Tinuva was standing in the doorway.

‘I can hear their horses outside the stockade,' the elf said. ‘They're still on the side of the mountain, a half hour, maybe an hour away at most.'

‘We leave now,' Dennis said.

‘Now?' Asayaga cried. ‘It's night. They've caught us by surprise. We should barricade and hold this place.'

‘I was caught in a keep once before,' Dennis replied. ‘I won't be again. They'll shower us with fire arrows and burn us out before dawn. We run. It's our only chance.' He looked over at Roxanne. ‘Can you guide us to the west pass at night?'

She hesitated, glancing back to her father.

‘She'll guide you,' Wolfgar said and Dennis realized he wasn't talking of her ability, but rather giving her an order.

There was a look of anguish in her eyes. The old man reached out and gathered her into his arms. ‘Child, all mortals must face this day and we knew it was coming. Life has been good to me, for in the end I was given you and your sister.' He kissed her on the forehead. ‘You can be as sharp-tongued as a viper, but you can also be as sweet as wild clover honey. I love you and your sister more than my own life. I'd trade all the years with kings for but one more hour with you.' He squeezed her slightly, then gently pushed her away. ‘Now lead my friends here to safety.'

As he spoke he looked past her to Dennis and Asayaga.

‘Settle your differences later, you two. It was a drunken brawl and men get killed in drunken brawls. Leave the dead here.'

Dennis said nothing.

‘You are a Hartraft, boy,' Wolfgar admonished. ‘Either command or step aside.'

The words were his grandfather's and Wolfgar spoke them with a voice that rang with the remembered power of long ago.

Dennis nodded. He shouted for his men to form ranks and prepare to march.

The column headed out of the gate of the stockade and turned south up into the forest where it would eventually pick up the trail that led to the western pass. In the middle of the column were the horses carrying the children and several of the older women. Half a dozen of the old men and women, however, had announced that they would stay behind with Wolfgar, and the partings from their children and grandchildren were bitter.

Torches flickered on top of the stockade gate and along the wall, revealing where several straw dummies had been set up, crowned with helmets. Wolfgar and the others remaining behind would move along the palisades, making as much noise as they could to try to convince Bovai the stockade was still fully manned. The ruse might delay the moredhel for a time as they stopped and deployed out before attempting to storm the stockade.

Tinuva, who had ridden out to scout, came in and urged the group to move, for in a matter of minutes the lead scouts of the enemy would be close enough to see what was transpiring.

The rear of the column passed and Dennis stood watching them. Wolfgar stood by the gate where his daughters were already mounted. They both leaned over, arms around their father, sobbing quietly. He reached up, patted each on the check, then slapped the rumps of their horses, sending them on their way.

Dennis waited for the last to leave, Asayaga standing silently beside him. Looking into the long hall, he saw the three bodies lying on the table amidst upended cups and over-turned platters. It would be their funeral pyre soon and again he thought of Jurgen, picturing
him standing within, waiting for the boy to join him on the journey. Somehow he wondered if in a way the boy was a replacement for himself and for a reason beyond his understanding his eyes filled with tears.

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. It was Wolfgar.

‘Along with you now, young Hartraft. Take care of my girls.'

Dennis nodded, unable to speak.

‘And you, Tsurani. Marry Alyssa. Grandsons of your blood would bring me honour.'

Asayaga bowed low. ‘Your request honours me, Wolfgar.' Then he said, ‘And if it were possible, I would ask for she is…' He let the sentence go unfinished. ‘But on my world she would be a slave, and there is nothing I could do to save her. I will see her safely to Kingdom lines, with my life if needs be.'

Wolfgar said, ‘I thought it might be something like that. Very well. She'll get over you. Now, hurry along before the bastards catch up with you. And don't kill each other: it would be a waste of a good friendship.'

The two said nothing.

‘Now go. An actor should know when to leave the stage, a poet when the lay is finished, and a bard when it is time to put aside the lute.'

Asayaga saluted and then hesitated. He reached out and touched the old man lightly on the face and then ran for the gate to catch up with the column. Only Tinuva and Gregory were left, waiting for Dennis.

‘Goodbye, Wolfgar.'

Wolfgar laughed softly. ‘It'd have been nice to have had one more night. I was planning on trying for that lovely redheaded girl, the one that's taken to the Tsurani lad who's wounded. Ahh well…' Still laughing, he patted Dennis affectionately and said, ‘If you had the brains of a sack of rocks you'd marry my Roxanne. She can be a hard one at times, but she has strength and she can love. She would be good for you, lad. She'd heal that wound you've been nursing all these years.'

Dennis's face flushed, and he seemed too embarrassed to speak. He let Wolfgar accompany him to the gate, softly whispering his
famous ballad about the shortcomings of the King and the memories it stirred caused Dennis to smile. Wolfgar's hand slipped away from Dennis's shoulder.

Before he even quite realized what was happening, Dennis was outside the gate, Wolfgar and the other old ones slowly swinging it shut behind him, then throwing the lock bar in place.

Dennis looked behind him, but the way back in, back to all that was, had been closed off.

‘Come on, my friend,' Gregory said, ‘it's time we moved on.'

Dennis set his face in a mask of determination. He nodded once and said nothing more.

The morning was cold.

Leaning against a stunted tree to catch his breath, Tinuva turned to look back. In the early morning light it was easy enough to see Wolfgar's Stockade, for it was burning now, a distant smudge of smoke rising up and spreading out in the still morning air. The smoke hung low, an indicator of bad weather to come. Raising his gaze, he swept the sky. To the east it was still clear, but to the west a fingerlike spread of clouds was drifting. By early evening it would be snowing again.

The column staggered slowly past, heads lowered against the icy breeze which swept the top of the pass. The Tsurani, stoic as ever, marched uncomplaining. Most of them were now wearing heavy felt boots and wool trousers: in fact, except for the lacquered armour emerging from beneath the white-and-grey camouflage cloaks it was hard to tell the difference between them and the Kingdom troops, that and their shorter stature. All the men were wearing crudely-made snowshoes, fashioned while passing the peaceful days with Wolfgar, but more than one pair had already broken and the unfortunate men without such gear had to labour through the drifts like a swimmer breasting an icy surf.

Without the horses, the column never would have made it to the top of the pass for in places the drifts were higher than a man's head and the animals had to be used as rams to batter down the icy walls so that the column could pass. He could see where a week
ago it would have been impossible to traverse the pass. What was so frustrating was that the delays and exhausting work to get through the notch in the mountains served to make an easy path for those in pursuit.

The men were silent and Tinuva could sense the tension between the two bands. Throughout the night, in spite of the dread that followed them, the whispered conversations had been about the fight between Barry and Sugama and the near-duel of Dennis and Asayaga. Some of the Tsurani even blamed Dennis for the betrayal by Corwin, thinking that as captain he had failed to uncover the traitor and was thus dishonoured.

If it had not been for the unfortunate young Richard, the truce would have disintegrated into a general slaughter with the moredhel simply having to finish off the survivors. Tinuva wondered how the two sides would manage to fight together when the time came, for surely they would indeed be fighting within the next day, or two days at most.

Even from this great distance Tinuva could see that Bovai's army had dozens of mounted troops formed up outside the burning stockade, with at least another two hundred or more on foot, and that the column was already on the move. The combined command troops of Tsurani and Kingdom soldiers would be outnumbered at least two to one, if not more.

‘They're coming?'

Gregory was by his side, shading his eyes against the early morning sunrise, looking back to the valley.

‘Just setting out.'

‘Arrogant bastards, took the stockade and slept the night while we cut the trail for them to follow.'

‘Why not? We can't throw off their tracking. They'll catch up before we can reach safety.'

Gregory squatted down, rubbing his hands together and eyed the notch through which they were passing.

‘Already thought of that,' Tinuva said. ‘It's too wide here, and there's no cover. We'd be flanked in minutes and cut off.'

‘Wish we didn't have the children and women. Without them we could push the pace.'

‘Should we have left them behind then?' Tinuva asked.

Gregory smiled and shook his head. ‘Being honourable has its drawbacks at times and this is one of them.'

‘Yes it does,' Tinuva whispered.

The last of the column trudged past, followed by Dennis and Asayaga who walked in silence. The two slowed and joined Tinuva, and they all looked back to the valley.

Tinuva could see the sadness in Dennis's eyes at the sight of the burning stockade.

‘A good ending,' Gregory said softly. ‘I bet the old man was singing that song of his, sword in hand. He'd prefer that to the slow wasting of the heart which was killing him anyhow.'

Dennis said nothing for a long minute. ‘Any defendable positions?' he asked finally.

Tinuva shook his head and nodded back to the south-west. The slope of the mountain swept down into a vast impenetrable forest, another range of mountains rising up more than twenty miles away. ‘I trekked this place long ago,' he said, his voice distant. How long ago was something these men would barely understand. ‘Beyond the next range I remember a dwarven road used by their miners for the hauling of ore down to a mill along the river.' As he spoke he pointed to the wooded crest. ‘The dwarves from Stone Mountain abandoned the mill and mine years ago when it played out.'

‘And the Broad River?' Dennis asked. ‘Do we try to circle round back to the ford we used or make a run for the bridge?'

It had been a topic of speculation almost every night after their arrival at Wolfgar's: how to get out. In general they had agreed upon the bridge. Tinuva had been there long ago, but Wolfgar and Roxanne had made a trek to it less than half a dozen years back. The span had still been intact then.

Twice Dennis had attempted to lead a patrol out to check but both times they had turned back, the pass simply impenetrable and one of the men had been lost in an avalanche. So now they would have to make the decision blind. Ten miles past the next range, then on to the road and south to the bridge. All their planning, however, had been predicated on the hope that there would be sufficient warning of Bovai's approach giving them a lead of a day or more to get out.

‘If the span is still there and undefended we cross, destroy it, and are home free,' Dennis said, but there was an ironic tone to his voice. ‘If he put a blocking force onto the bridge, however, or worst yet destroyed the span, we are trapped.'

Dennis looked at his companions.

‘The ford is in the opposite direction,' Gregory replied, ‘heading back into territory the moredhel control now. Plus, it's another sixty miles or more. They'll swarm over us long before then.'

‘To run a blocking force around to the bridge is an extra thirty miles or more,' Tinuva interjected. ‘If Bovai came up only within the last few days, we can still outrace them.'

‘You don't think they did it?' Dennis asked.

‘I didn't say that.'

Dennis nodded. A shower of sparks swirled up from the long house a dozen miles away in the valley below as it collapsed in on itself. It was plainly visible to all and he heard a muffled sob. Alyssa and Roxanne had come back from the head of the column and were sitting astride their mounts, watching as the only home they knew was destroyed. Asayaga turned away from the group and went up to Alyssa's side. Reaching up, he touched her gently on the leg.

‘Make for the bridge then, and hope it's there,' Dennis stated in the detached voice he assumed when giving a command.

Tinuva nodded.

‘We'd better keep moving,' Dennis said. ‘It'll have to be straight out. No stopping until we're across the river.'

‘You're talking two days' march with children and women, and a storm brewing,' Gregory interjected. ‘Do you see an alternative?'

Dennis looked back at Tinuva who said nothing, his gaze locked on the valley below.

He's there.

Bovai reined his mount about, looking up to the distant pass highlighted by the brilliant light of dawn. He could see the antlike column disappearing over the notch, but far more powerful than what he could see with his eyes was what he could sense in his soul.

Tinuva was looking at him.

The long house and the entire stockade was an inferno. It had served its purpose for the night as shelter after the long march of the previous day–there was even food to be found and a few of the old ones foolish enough to be taken alive had provided entertainment for the goblins.

He had vague recollections of old Wolfgar and the stories about his defiance of the King. It was a shame, in a different time and place he might have even suffered him to live, but any friend of his brother was a sworn enemy and besides, the old man had decided to go down fighting.

‘Did you send for me?'

It was Corwin.

Bovai nodded, barely looking down at the man who was still wearing the robes of a monk. ‘I expect you to get mounted and guide us.'

‘The path they've left, I don't think you need a guide.'

Bovai could sense the fear. It would be just like Hartraft and Tinuva to have laid traps to slow the advance; there might even be a few left behind and this fat one was afraid of an ambush.

‘Nevertheless, mount and go forward.'

‘I think my services to you could be better rendered in other ways.'

Bovai finally looked down and fixed him with his gaze. ‘You should have cut the boy's throat to make sure.'

Corwin had told him the boy had fallen to his death, but they had seen Richard's body lying on one of the tables in the long hall.

Corwin had cursed himself for having blurted out the young soldier's name upon seeing him. Had he kept silent, Bovai would never have known his error in judgment, but with the boy having fallen down the side of the path onto the rocks, Corwin had been convinced he was dead.

Bovai continued, ‘If you had finished him, this chase would be finished. Hartraft and…' his voice trailed off, for the subject of his brother was not something to be shared.

‘Tinuva,' Corwin whispered and gave the flicker of a smile.

Bovai's backhand caught Corwin across the cheek flayed open by Richard's dagger and the man staggered back.

‘You have no right to dare mention his name in my presence,' Bovai snarled. ‘I gave you a task and you failed. You failed to lure them into Brendan's Stockade, you failed to drive a wedge between them, you allowed the boy to escape and warn them.'

‘I've served you for ten years,' Corwin said coldly, hand cupped over the side of his face, a trickle of blood leaking out between his fingers. ‘And?'

Corwin hesitated.

‘Go on.'

Corwin's eyes narrowed, his gaze sharp and crafty, like a cornered rat's.

‘Your men have been whispering during the night. They are angry, exhausted. They know Tinuva is with Hartraft and they fear him. Many whisper that you are more interested in settling the affairs of your vendetta rather than finishing off Hartraft so they can go home.'

‘Always the ferret, aren't you?'

‘It is how I survive. The beauty of my betrayals are that men, even those of your race, trust me up till the moment I slip the dagger between their ribs or serve them a flagon of brandy. Don't waste that talent lightly. Our master has plans for me.'

‘And you would betray me in a heartbeat if it furthered whatever dark goals you sought.'

Corwin smiled. ‘Only should it serve our master. Otherwise, our paths are the same.'

Bovai snorted derisively. ‘Nevertheless, ride forward.'

Corwin hesitated then bowed low in acknowledgment and turned away.

Golun rode up to join Bovai, his gaze locked on Corwin who was stalking away. ‘I'd kill him now and be done with it,' he announced.

‘Our master has need of him. He is to go south and prepare the way for an invasion in the next three or four years. Until I sit at Murad's right hand, or replace him, I cannot risk displeasing the Master.'

Golun seemed unconvinced. ‘A traitor is always a traitor.'

‘Like my brother up there?' Bovai whispered, nodding to the high pass.

The morning air was so clear that he still felt as if he could see him, in a small knot of several men, where the flicker of light from the dawning sun flashed off a bit of metal.

‘Finish off the Marauders, that is what will give you glory, and reunite those who follow you now. Then worry about Tinuva.'

Bovai said nothing and merely nodded, his attention still focused on the crest of the mountain and the flicker of light.

The snow drifted down gently and when Dennis stopped walking it was the only sound, the whispering of the flakes as they came to rest on the overhanging branches and the forest floor.

He heard the snicker of a horse and turned, bow coming up instinctively, arrow already nocked. Then he lowered his weapon.

Roxanne, following his track, ducked low under a heavily-laden branch and came up to his side.

‘I told you to stay back with the main column,' he said softly.

‘I hunted here with my father for years. I can help.'

‘Not now, not this kind of hunting,' he hissed. ‘Go back.'

He set off again at the double, moving swiftly, daring to stay on the narrow trail. Throughout the morning and into the afternoon he had been haunted by the fear that Bovai would have sent a blocking force around to cut off this avenue of escape. Corwin knew the plan–he must have passed it along–and to run blindly forward with the hope that Bovai had not been able to set up a trap in time was a quick way to a certain death. If they were going to block the bridge, they'd have scouts out forward as well.

Down in the forest in the broad open valley the snow was not so deep, but now that they were ascending the next ridgeline the passage was getting difficult again. He had long ago taken off his cloak and slung it around his pack, but nevertheless he was breathing heavily, and sweat was soaking through his tunic. Drenched as he was he knew he'd have problems with the cold once night settled.

He pressed on, inwardly cursing as the girl doggedly followed, at one point moving ahead of him, breaking the trail.

He finally came up by her side and grabbed hold of her reins. ‘Damn you, go back.'

‘You're ready to drop from exhaustion, Hartraft. Let someone mounted break the trail.'

‘A mounted rider is a dead target in these woods,' he hissed. ‘We do it on foot. Now go back.'

‘The women and children back with the column need rest, a fire.'

‘We don't stop.'

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