The Deed of Paksenarrion (27 page)

“Don’t snore,” she said when he jerked awake.

“Umph,” he said, and rolled over. She stood and swung her arms vigorously to warm up. Better. The wind dropped, and she squatted down against the tree again, hoping it would not rain, hoping the wind would die away altogether. It didn’t. Just when she thought she would be warm enough after all, a chill current of air flowed into the hollow and she started shivering. She rubbed her arms again, but it didn’t help. Her teeth chattered.

“Paks,” said a voice out of the dark; she nearly yelped. But it was Canna’s voice. Paks scooted around to her side.

“What is it?”

“I woke up and heard your teeth—take this cloak; I don’t need it.”

“I don’t want you to get chilled.”

“I’m warm enough. Don’t be silly; take the cloak.” Canna heaved up and began unwrapping herself from the second cloak. Saben woke up.

“What’s going on?”

“Paks is freezing, and I’m giving her back her cloak.”

“It’s time for me to take a turn watching anyway. Warm up, Paks; I’ll wake you later.”

“Th-thanks.” Paks rolled into the warm cloak, and lay beside Canna, shivering for awhile. She fell asleep as soon as she was warm. She woke in a panic, with Saben’s hand firmly over her mouth. Before she could move away from his hand, she heard the reason for it: horses somewhere nearby. She touched his wrist, and he moved his hand away. She looked at Canna. Canna looked back without moving. She had heard the horses too. A heavy wet fog lay between the trees; their cloaks were furred with moisture.

The horses came nearer. She could hear the jingling bits, the squeak of leather. And voices. “There won’t be stragglers out here—we’d have found ‘em holed up in that woodcutter’s hut in this weather.”

“Or else they’re already far away.”

“No—we hit late enough, they’ll have been close in. The only thing is those brambles, the big ones, but Palleck’s squad went over that yesterday.”

“Shot arrows into it, you mean. Those lazy scum wouldn’t pick through thorns. But I agree, that should have flushed anyone out. Still, if
he
wants us out here, here we’ll be.”

“Right enough. I won’t argue. I wonder though—I thought we were going to lift the siege at Rotengre. What’s he want to come up here and take a bunch of mercenary prisoners for?”

“I don’t know. One of his schemes, I suppose. You know how he hates ‘em. I don’t doubt this Duke Whoever, the Red Duke, will be angry enough at the green ones when he finds his men where they’ll be. And Tollen told me the Red Duke’s at the siege.”

“Is he? That’s a bit clearer. My lord Siniava will be up to his usual tricks, no doubt.” The voices had moved past, and now faded into foggy silence.

The three in the hollow looked long at each other. “They’re taking the prisoners somewhere,” said Saben softly. “I wonder where?”

“But what about the fort?” asked Paks.

“Siniava—Siniava. I should know that name. Yellow and black—and Siniava. Oh!” said Canna.

“What is it?”

“We can hope I’m wrong, but I think I know who that is: Siniava. I think it’s the Honeycat. You’ve heard—?”

Paks shivered. “Yes. Too much. Now what are we going to do?”

“Tell the Duke. Now more than ever. I wish I knew
where
they were taking the prisoners. He’ll want to know.”

“And if they’re trying to break the fort to get more,” said Saben.

“Yes. There’s a lot we need to know—where they’re going, and when, and by what road—”

“We—I—could try to get close to them and find out,” suggested Paks.

“First we need to get Canna outside their skirmish lines,” said Saben. “She can’t travel as fast. But this fog’s a big help; they can’t see us.”

“Do you know which way is which?” asked Canna.

Saben’s face fell. “No. I didn’t think of that.”

“I do,” said Paks. “At least I’m fairly sure. Let’s go south a bit more, and then cut west to the road.”

She helped Canna stand; the dark woman was steadier than Paks had expected. Then she led the way from tree to tree, with a pause behind each to look and listen. The woods were silent, except for the drip-drip of fog from every twig. They went on. It could have been hours; the light grew only slightly, and the fog was just as thick. At one pause, Saben asked, “How do you know this is south?”

“Remember the view from the wall—beyond the biggest brambles, and running south, was a belt of fir trees. I remember wondering if it had been planted there for some reason.”

“Fir trees. How do you know fir trees from pines or anything else?”

“I’m from Three Firs, remember? Fir trees I know.”

“Hunh. And I thought you were smart or something.” Saben gave her a quick grin before going on.

They had come up a long slope, and now they felt an open quality to the silence that meant a ridgetop. When they started down the far side, the firs disappeared.

“Now what?” asked Saben.

“Now we stop for a bit,” said Paks, eyeing Canna, whose face was pinched with pain or cold. She found a spot below a rock ledge, and they settled their backs against it. “We can have those berries now. Do you have a tinderbox, Saben?”

“No, worse luck. But we couldn’t start a fire here, could we? So close?”

“No, but later. I don’t have anything. Canna?”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember. There was no reason to bring it out, but I’ll look in my pouch. Yes. There it is.”

Paks grinned at the other two. “We’re in good shape, really. We’ve got something to make a fire, and something to cook in—”

“And nothing to cook,” Saben reminded her.

“Don’t ill-wish,” she retorted. “We could be dead, or prisoners, and we’re not. If only Canna hadn’t been hit—”

“
If
never filled the pot,” said Canna. “I’m doing well—it hurts when I move that arm, just what you’d expect.” Despite her words, Paks noticed that she sagged against the rock.

“Well, I need a rest, if you don’t,” said Paks.

“Now I know how you knew which way was south,” said Saben. “But how are you going to find west? I don’t remember any convenient belts of trees in that direction.”

“This ridge runs west, more or less,” said Paks, who had finally thought of that only a few minutes before, when she too wondered how she’d find west without the sun.

“Umm. You’re right again. But I don’t think following it will be as easy.”

“No. I don’t either. It would be nice to find someone’s path going the right way.”

“If we can find a path, so can their men.”

“Yes. I should have thought of that. Well, we’ll just have to try. If we do get lost, the sun will come out someday.”

“Let’s go on and share out the berries,” said Canna. The berries seemed to have shrunk overnight, and did little to fill their empty bellies.

“The next time we do this sort of thing,” said Saben, “let’s be sure to carry three days’ rations in our pouches, and tinderboxes, and bandages, and—let’s see—how about mules and saddles, too.”

Paks and Canna both chuckled. “In a pouch—of course,” said Canna. “To be honest, I don’t plan to do this again, if I can help it.”

“Come now,” said Saben. “We’re going to be heroes in this tale. Escaping the villain, bringing word to our Duke, rescuing our friends—” Paks nodded; she had already imagined them freeing the prisoners on the road, and returning to the Duke in triumph. Of course, it wouldn’t be easy, but—

“If we come out of this heroes,” Canna said soberly, “we’ll earn it. Every step of the way. You two—you’ve done well, so far, but you don’t understand. There are too many things that can go wrong, too many miles. This is no fireside tale, no adventure for a hero out of songs: this is real. We aren’t likely to make it as far as the Duke, though we’ll try—”

“I know that,” Saben broke in. “We aren’t veteran scouts. But still—it’s easier to think about if we think of it as an adventure—at least I think so. The bad will come soon enough without looking for it—beyond being careful, of course.”

“As long as you don’t think we’ll go dancing down the road and find the Duke as easy as finding those berries—” Canna sounded doubtful.

Paks shook her head. “We know, Canna. A lot can go wrong; we need you to keep us from making stupid mistakes that will get us all killed. One of us has to get through.” She still thought they could do it; Canna was just worried because of her wound. She took a drink from her flask, then shook it. “I wonder how far downslope water is. Canna, how’s your water?”

“About half. We probably should look for more.”

“You stay here,” said Saben. “I can’t get lost if I go down and back up. I’ll hoot like that owl last night when I think I’m near again.” He took their flasks and disappeared into the fog.

“If they are marching to Rotengre,” said Paks,.” do you think they’ll go through Sorellin, or around it?”

“Not through, even if they control the city—it’d be risky. I expect they’d take the fork we came up by.”

“I hope so. That will be—a week on the march, at least, and more likely eight or nine days with that crowd. We’ll have to get food somewhere. We can march two days on water alone, but not a week. D’you think we could buy food somewhere? I’ve got a silver—a nis—and some coppers—”

“It depends. If we’re seen, we can be talked about. If we’re far enough behind to be safe, we could lose them. Probably we’d best stick to what we can find—or steal.”

“Steal!” said Paks. “But we’re not supposed to—”

“I know. But it’s better than capture. We can tell the Duke, when we get to Rotengre, and he’ll make it good.”

Paks sighed. It was beginning to seem more complicated. “If we stay close enough to know where they are, we’ll be close enough for their scouts to find, won’t we?”

“Yes. If we knew their route, we could go ahead of them—that would be best—but we don’t.” They sat in silence awhile. Canna shifted her back against the rock. Paks looked at her.

“Do you want to lie down?”

“Better not. Let me think—if they march like others I’ve seen, they’ll have two waves of forward scouts, mounted, and a patrol on each flank. The flankers usually stay in sight of the column; the forward scouts may not. And a rearguard. The first day will be hardest, until we find out their order of march.”

“I don’t know whether to hope for rain, to slow them down, or dry weather to make it easy for us.”

“Either way we’ll have our problems; so will they. Best be ready to take what comes. One thing, Paks—”

“Yes?”

“We need to agree on who’s in command.”

Paks stared. “Why—you are, surely. You’re senior.”

“Yes—but I’m not even a file leader. And I’m injured; I couldn’t
make
you obey, unless you—”

“Hooo—hooo—hoo hoo.”

“Saben’s coming.
Hooo—hooo.
” Paks tried to hit the same pitch. They saw a human shape loom out of the fog.

“There’s a good spring not far down,” said Saben. “And I found these growing around it.” He dumped out a pouchful of small shiny red berries and a few hazelnuts. “I don’t know what those berries are, but they taste good.”

Paks tried one. It was tart and juicy, very different from the luscious sweet bramble-berries. She and Canna ate while Saben cracked the hazelnut husks and piled the meats.

“I can take the pail down there,” said Saben, “and gather more.”

“I don’t think so,” said Canna. “Look at the fog.” A light wind had come up, and the fog was beginning to blow through the trees in streamers. “We should be heading for the road. Saben, I was telling Paks that we need to agree on who’s in command—”

“You’re senior, Canna. Whatever you say—”

“All right. Paks agreed too. But if I’m disabled, one of you will have to take over, and—”

“Oh. Paks, of course—don’t you think?” He popped a hazelnut into his mouth.

“That’s what I thought.” Canna sounded relieved. “I wanted to be sure you’d agree, though. I’m not a corporal or anything.”

“That’s all right. It’s no time to worry about
that.
”

“Good. Let me tell you what I think is next; if I miss anything, bring it up.” They both nodded, and she went on. “We need to be close enough to know where they’re going, without getting caught. That means staying out of their sight. If they head for Rotengre, we can stay together; if they don’t, we’ll have to separate: one goes straight to the Duke, and the others follow Siniava.”

“But Canna,” said Paks, “can’t we do something about the prisoners? To free them, or something?”

Canna shook her head. “No—I don’t think we can. The most important thing is to tell the Duke what’s happened. If we try to free them and fail—and think, Paks: just the three of us, with daggers; we would fail—then we’d be caught or killed, and the Duke still wouldn’t know. I don’t like it either, but we won’t help that way.” She waited, looking from one to another. Paks finally gave a reluctant nod. Saben grunted. Canna went on. “Another thing—if one of us is caught, or killed, or—or whatever—the others must go on. Someone has to get to the Duke, no matter what, or the whole thing is wasted. Clear?”

Paks had found the other hard enough to accept; this was impossible. She and Saben spoke together. “No! We can’t—” Saben stopped and Paks continued. “Canna, you’re hurt now—we can’t leave you. What if they found you? We’re—we’re friends; we’ve fought together, and—”

“We’re warriors first,” said Canna firmly. “That’s what we’re here for. If you accept my command, you must accept this. We’re warriors, and our duty is to our Duke. He’s the only one who can help the rest, anyway. I’d leave you—I wouldn’t want to, but I would. And you’ll leave me, if it comes to that, rather than let the whole cohort be lost, and the Company after it.”

“Well—all right. But I hope it doesn’t.” Paks stood up and stretched.

“So do I,” said Canna. Saben gave her a hand up. “Now—remember to use hand signals as much as you can; sound carries, as we heard.” They nodded. “Paks, if you think you can find the way west, lead off. Whatever you do, don’t veer north.”

“I’ll be careful.” Paks looked around. The fog had thinned; she could see a short way through the trees. At the top of the ridge she followed the crest of it west—or what she hoped was west. In the dampness the leaves underfoot made little noise. They could hear nothing nearby, but from time to time they heard a distant drum.