Chapter Nine
Teldin woke to the sound of hoofbeats drumming away into the distance. Spitting out an oath under his breath, the farmer struggled up out of his blankets, certain that he had overslept. It would be just like Vandoorm to take off and force Teldin to hurry and catch up, the captain’s idea of a great joke. “Gomja!” he cried, not shouting but loud enough for the giff to hear.
“Quiet, sir!” a bass voice answered, vibrating with urgency. Suddenly Teldin realized it was still dark. It was not morning and Vandoorm had not broken camp yet. It’s me-Gomja, sir,” the giff explained in a whisper. His huge form loomed up out of the blackness.
Teldin lay still, completely confused. “What? What’s happening?” he whispered back.
The giff stood to, reacting to his commander. “It’s Vandoorm and Brun, sir. While I was on guard, they took their horses and rode out of camp. They were talking about something, and I heard our names.
“What-huh?” Teldin sputtered. He turned to look toward the main camp. There was flickering movement before the dull light of the fires and in seeing it Teldin had a flash of panic. He relaxed almost as quickly when he realized it was only the movement of a sleeping man rolling over. ‘So?”
“1 don’t like it, sir,” the giff stated flatly. “It would be better if we knew what they were doing.”
For a moment, Teldin considered telling Gomja to go back to sleep. There was a tone, though, in the giffs voice that suggested the creature might, just possibly, be right. Rubbing at the sleep in his eyes, Teldin finally agreed.
“OK, how do we follow them?”
The giff looked up toward the starlit sky. “It’s dark, so they can’t ride fast, sir. And I can see well in this light, so, if we hurry, we should be able to catch up with them."
Realizing the urgency, Teidin pulled on his shirt and jacket, then snatched up his hanger and fastened the cutlass around his waist. The metal buckles clinked and Teldin cursed the noise under his breath, hoping the other men didn’t hear anything unusual. “What about my horse?”
“I have already scouted the area, sir,” Gomja continued. "I do not think we can take it without waking the others.”
“Well, we don’t want that,” Teldin agreed as he hopped about, trying to pull a boot on. “Gather up our gear, just in case.” The pair hastily stowed what little was easily available. “Leave the rest,” Teldin ordered. Looking toward the other side of the camp, he could see the shadowed silhouettes of the sleeping men. “Ready to go?”
Gomja nodded. “I will take the lead, sir, if it is all right with you.” The giff shrugged the larger pack onto his shoulder. In one hand he carried a knife, the blade rubbed with dirt to keep it from glinting in the dim light. “Your sword, sir,” Gomja reminded the human.
“What? Oh, yes.” Teldin pulled his cutlass from its scabbard, a little embarrassed that he had forgotten all about it. “Now, let’s go.”
In the narrow canyon, the night was intense. The brilliant silver of Solinari was nearly gone, leaving only the red gleam of Lunitari, partially blocked by the high ridges, and weak starlight to see by. Gomja led slowly, circling the darkness at the edge of the camp, working toward the trail that led to the main canyon.
Once on that trail, the giff set the pace at a slow lope, taking care not to move too far ahead of the night-blind human. Where necessary Gomja hissed out warnings of roots, rocks, or holes in the trail. Trying to slip away as quietly as he could, Teldin winced every time a stone clattered underfoot.
Just as they neared the intersection with the main road, Gomja came to a stop and held one hand behind to warn the human of his move, not that Teldin could really see it. “What-” Teldin began.
“Quiet, sir,” Gomja cautioned in the softest whisper possible. “There are voices ahead.” Teldin strained to listen but could not hear anything. Undoubtedly the gills adjustable ears were more sensitive than his.
“I can’t hear a thing,” Teldin protested. “Who is it? What are they saying?” Gomja did not answer but, after a pause, carefully led the way forward. Gradually Teldin could hear murmurs, then distinct voices. His eyes adjusting to the dark, the human could see shapes that might be people-or rocks
“Brun, take the creature. I want Tel alive, but you kill the other one.” The voice was unmistakably Vandoorm’s accented tone.
“It’s about time. We waited too long already,” snarled another voice. Probably Brun, Teldin guessed. “Should have done it when we had the thing chained.”
“And if the big one broke loose, what then?” was Vandoorm’s reply. “I want no mistakes. Do this and we are well paid in Palanthas.”
“Sir,” Gomja’s bass whispered in Teldin’s ear, “give me my pistols. The enemy commander has foolishly revealed his position. If I have my pistols, I can put a ball in him from here. This would give us the element of surprise.”
“No,” Teldin hissed back. He still didn’t understand what Vandoorm was doing. The man was his friend, after all. Whatever was going one, Teldin refused to believe that Vandoorm was a willing part of it.
“But, sir, we are defenseless,” the giff pleaded. “At least give me my weapons!”
Teldin felt for the strange sticks he carried in his bundle, remembering how Gomja had once threatened him with one like them. Considering the effect then, Teldin could not understand why the giff wanted them now. “Are they that useful?”
“Yes, sir, and I swear I will not use them against you,” Gomja earnestly offered.
“Or Vandoorm,” Teldin insisted after brief consideration.
Gomja glumly acquiesced. “Or Vandoorm, sir.” The word given, Teldin handed the two weapons over, but not without a twinge of dread.
As the giff took the last of the items, there was a clatter of rocks somewhere to the left. Vandoorm and the others, whom Teldin had been straining to overhear even as he gave up the pistols, suddenly stopped their conversation. The human froze in dread at the thought that they had been discovered. “Someone’s out there!” the mercenary captain hissed. “Brun, go right. I’ll draw his attention.” There was a soft footfall on the stone as the lieutenant moved out.
The bearded captain raised his voice in mock conversation, quickly shifting the topic away from his plans. Teldin ignored the distraction, trying to follow Brun’s motion. A black silhouette marked the stalker’s moves. The farmer tensed, one hand on his sword, ready to strike. Unwilling to turn away, he could only hope that the giff was staying out of sight.
Another louder clatter of rocks pulled Brun’s attention away. A dark shape burst from a hiding place to the left. Vandoorm and Brun both sprang after the fleeing shape, scrambling over the broken stones in pursuit. Teldin had the impression of a fleeting, reptilian shape before the creature fled out of sight.
“By damn, it’s a draconian!” the captain swore in surprise. He stopped chasing the beast. “Let it go. It won’t hurt us.” Brun hurled a few choice curses after the creature and gladly halted.
Teldin welcomed the distraction the creature had provided, since the mercenaries were now a good distance away, but it concerned him that a draconian had surfaced at all. Teldin quickly relocated his giff companion and began hustling from the area.
“Now, Gomja, we’re going to get out of here-without fighting. We’re not far from Palanthas, so we can get to the city on foot. Understand?” The last was not so much a question as an order.
“Yes, sir,” said the giff, but his voice showed that he remained unconvinced.
“Then let’s go, trooper,” Teldin ordered, giving the giff a gentle push to move out.
“I will never gain honor,” Gomja muttered bitterly as he set off to circle Vandoorm’s position. Fortunately their route was sheltered from Vandoorm ‘s view and the ground they crossed was free of obstruction.