The Conqueror's Shadow (18 page)

“Rest now,” she said abruptly, returning to the task at hand. “We should get a move on as soon as you're able. Can't keep Davro waiting. Ogres are notoriously impatient.”

Corvis watched as she packed, pondering. Then, with a mental shrug, he reached beneath the bed for his possessions. They lay within easy reach: his pack, his sword, his clothes, and, bizarrely, a short spear, scarcely the length of his arm, covered in ever-shifting runes.

Even as his fist closed around it, he felt the Kholben Shiar taste his soul, as it did to all who dared heft it. He watched Sunder shape itself accordingly, melting down, forming once more into the axe with which he was as familiar as his own skin. And he wondered, thinking of the spear it had briefly been—the weapon of a hunter, not a warrior—what it had seen inside Seilloah.

THEY REMAINED UNMOLESTED
as they traversed the darkness of Theaghl-gohlatch. The path seemed less claustrophobic this time around, though whether the cause was Seilloah's light spell (substantially brighter than Corvis's) or the extra company, or the simple fact that he wasn't feverish and dying, Corvis couldn't say. He heard rustling in the surrounding foliage, but whatever paced them remained content to watch.

“Seilloah, why would you want to live in this place?” he finally asked.

“What's wrong with it?” she responded innocently.

“Seilloah …”

She smiled. “I've always preferred forests, Corvis. You know that.
And with this one, I don't have to worry about the stray hunter or woodcutter wandering too close to my home and getting away before I can, ah, invite him to dinner. People leave this place alone—everyone except you—and that's what I wanted.”

“You and Davro both. Did everyone I knew go on to become a hermit?”

“Quite possibly,” she told him. “People were oddly suspicious of strangers at the time. I think most of the kingdom was struggling to rebuild from something or other. Some catastrophe. Can't recall offhand what it was.”

“Cute. So if you didn't believe in my cause, why'd you help me?”

“Who said I didn't believe? I still think you'd make a better ruler than anything else we've got available. Doesn't mean I'm blind to the consequences. Corvis,” she added abruptly, “you know full well that my sphere of influence is somewhat limited. If Audriss has at his command anything approaching the level of sorcery that you used to have, I can't counter it.”

“You'll do fine,” Corvis responded stiffly.

“Corvis—”

“No.”

She bulled on. “Where's Khanda?”

“Someplace safe.”

Corvis's tone didn't make it entirely clear whether he meant someplace safe
for
Khanda, or
from
him. “It's your decision, of course, Corvis, but shouldn't you at least consider—”

“No.”

She sighed. “Fine. Have it your way.”

“That's the plan.”

They emerged into the diffuse light of the surrounding woods just after midday. Davro, his back stiff and his spear clenched tight, stood some twenty feet from the gaping passage. Rascal, his ears flattened, waited behind the ogre, tugging at his tether.

“I knew you were coming,” the ogre said stiltedly. “The trees grew a mouth and told me.”

“The trees around here,” Corvis said casually, “do seem unusually verbose.”

“Davro,” Seilloah greeted the ogre with a smile.

“Seilloah.”

“It's been a long time, my large friend. You're looking quite well.”

“As are you. Did he blackmail you, too?”

“That's starting to get just a little old,” Corvis interjected.

“So are you,” Davro spat back. Corvis raised an eyebrow, which the ogre chose to ignore.

“My animals—” he began.

“Corvis already asked me. It'll be a strain from this distance, but I can put the entire herd into a hibernation, of sorts. They won't need food or drink—they'll barely breathe, for that matter—for at least several months, probably a couple of seasons. If we're not done by then, I'll try to think of something a little more long-term.”

“Thank you.”

“That's a handy trick,” Corvis commented. “Why didn't you ever do that on the armies we faced?”

Seilloah sighed. “Because sheep and pigs are docile. Trained warhorses are too ornery to cooperate, and as far as humans go, it's
far
more difficult for witchcraft to manipulate anything with a soul. Why don't you concentrate on how to deal with Audriss, and leave the witchcraft to me, all right?”

Corvis untethered Rascal from the tree and set off to the northwest, leading the horse and followed by his companions. Seilloah assured him that a suitable mount would await her at the edge of the woods, so they need not walk all the way to ogre territory. As they marched, snatches of conversation drifted through Corvis's hearing.

“… any humans lately?” the ogre was asking.

A deep sigh. “No, that's the one disadvantage to living in isolation, I'm afraid. And it means some of my best recipes are going to waste. You?”

“Nah. I don't care for the way humans taste, remember? I thought I told you that.”

“You might have. It's been a while, Davro.” Another sigh, this one more hopeful. “It'll be nice to get out in the world again, at least for a little while. Maybe we can find a vagabond or two no one will miss. They tend toward the stringy, but if you can mix them with the right
kind of vegetables and a good helping of potatoes, they make the most fabulous stew …”

Corvis shook his head as the breeze picked up, blotting out the low tone of the discussion behind him.

THEY REACHED THE WOOD'S END
just before dusk some four nights later, and Seilloah's mount indeed awaited them. Corvis stopped and frowned, trying to find some tactful way to object. Rascal's ears flattened, while Davro just snickered.

For her own part, Seilloah smiled and sidled up to the creature, gently caressing its throat and patting it on the head. The creature rumbled, a sound that might have been a purr had this been anything resembling a cat. The massive tail slapped back and forth, sounding like window shutters flapping in a storm.

“Umm, Seilloah …,” Corvis began hesitantly.

“Isn't he beautiful?” she cooed. “That's a good boy, yes he is!” She continued scratching vigorously at the rough skin.

“Seilloah, it's a lizard.”

“How observant of you, Corvis.”

“It's a lizard the size of a cow.”

“Yes.”

Corvis felt he wasn't entirely making his point.
“Why
is there a lizard the size of a cow?”

“Because a lizard the size of a lizard wouldn't make for a very good mount, would it?”

Corvis blinked. “Well, no, but … Seilloah, a giant lizard isn't exactly the most inconspicuous traveling companion.”

“Are we being inconspicuous? I thought we were raising an army.”

“Yes, but I'd rather not draw too much attention until we actually
have
the army.”

“Oh, relax,” she said, laughing at him. “You're wandering down the roadside with an ogre. How inconspicuous is
that?”

“Hey,” Davro protested.

“But—”

“If we have to go through any towns or cities, I'll have him wait outside, all right?”

Corvis sighed. “Have it your way.”

Seilloah grinned evilly. “That's the plan.”

Grumbling something unintelligible, Corvis seated himself on Rascal's saddle. Seilloah heaved herself onto the lizard's back, and the animals set off at a steady pace, Davro marching alongside. Rascal, though he kept one eye on the strange creature beside him, made no overt objections.

“I suppose I better get it over with,” Corvis muttered. “What's his name?”

“Rover.”

Corvis shut up.

INDEED
, they drew some astonished looks from fellow travelers and were forced to circle around a handful of small towns they might otherwise have passed through, but their journey remained largely uneventful.

Davro remained surly, Corvis defensive, and Seilloah vastly amused by both of them. The sun passed above their heads, the miles beneath their feet. The heat of summer grew heavier and more oppressive, and they knew it would only get worse. As they continued northwest, the air grew thick, heavy, and sticky. It was, Corvis remarked, akin to marching through a thin coating of jam. Throttled violently by the savage humidity, the dirt became mud, sucking greedily at Rascal's hooves and Davro's feet. Between the heat, the humidity, and the terrain, their progress slowed to a sickly crawl.

It was just about noon, the sun beating down upon them through a sky as much moisture as air, when a few gnarled and twisted trees appeared on the horizon.

“The road ends about a hundred yards farther on,” Davro told them, unbothered by an environment that was quickly sapping the strength of his companions. “We go north there, and follow the waterline.”

“Wonderful,” Corvis rumbled, wiping vainly at the sweat pouring
from his hairline with an equally drenched hand. “Tell me something, Davro, whose brilliant idea was it for your clan to live in a swamp?”

“We're a tribe, not a clan,” Davro said haughtily.

“Oh, well pardon me bloody.”

“And the heat doesn't bother us much. Living here, neither does anyone else.”

“I thought most ogres
liked
fighting everyone in sight,” Seilloah said, her tone sharp. Even the witch was miserable in the sodden atmosphere of the nearby swamp.

“We
do
like fighting,” Davro told her, apparently forgetting that he'd distanced himself from “we” for nigh unto two decades. “But we want it on
our
terms and in
their
homes, not the other way around.”

Corvis sighed. “So where are we going, exactly? The last time, I met you halfway, remember? I've seen maps, but I've never actually been there.”

“As I said, we follow the edge of the swamp north, and then for about a dozen miles once it turns to the west. My tribe's territory begins just a few miles north of—why are you staring at me?”

“Follow until the swamp turns back toward the west?” Seilloah asked in a strangled tone.

“That's what I said. So?”

“Davro,” Corvis explained, his voice beseeching; almost, an unkind observer might have said, whining. “That swamp must stretch fifty miles before it tapers off! At the rate we're traveling, that's four or five more days in this godsforsaken place!”

“Closer to six,” the ogre conceded with a shrug. “Remember, it's another twelve or so miles after that.”

“Are you
trying
to kill us?”

“You're the one who wanted to come here,” Davro snapped at him. “This is your doing. You deal with it.”

Corvis sighed, then, and took a moment to cast an apologetic glance at Seilloah, who was glowering darkly at him. “All right,” he said, resigned. “Let's get this misery over with.”