«It's like coming on a body all ripped up and chewed when you're out in the woods at night,» said Zogades. He looked back over his shoulder as the town slowly dropped out of sight. «It makes you wonder what might be out there in the woods along with you.»
Blade had one or two ideas about what the Scadori might be up to. Their best course would be to refuse battle until the Guardians moved onto some rough ground where their horses would not give them such an advantage. That meant the Scadori would not offer battle out here on the open plateau. They would wait-and wait, and wait, and wait, if necessary. But this was only a guess, so Blade kept his mouth shut.
Two days later the Karani came on a Scadori town before the people completely abandoned it. A last party of women and children with their bundles of possessions was captured. So was a small herd of cattle and the score of old men and boys driving it off.
Except for a few who tried to run, most of the Scadori were captured alive. They would have done better to die trying to run. Those who were captured also died very slowly. They died of every torture that the ingenuity and the available equipment of the Karani could inflict. The torture and the screams went on all night, as hundreds of the Guardians shoved and elbowed each other for the best places to watch. A few hideously mangled bodies still showed signs of life at dawn.
Blade kept as far away as possible. He managed to eat a few mouthfuls of half-raw beef hacked from the slaughtered cattle. He would have given most of even that small share to Tera if she had been able to eat. But for once her courage failed her. All she could do was shrink deeper and deeper into the blankets, hold her hands over her ears, and lie shaking and sobbing. All Blade could do was sit by her, stroke her hair, and wish them all out of this cursed lonely plateau.
The next morning it seemed as though his wishes were going to be answered. When the main column moved out, the Emperor's banner soon began to swing back toward the northeast.
Toward the Pass of Scador? Blade took the first chance he got to ask Zogades.
The sergeant shrugged. «I don't see where else we can wind up,» he said. «Word is, some of the prisoners talked before they died. Said all the warriors of all the tribes of Scador were heading off to the west.»
Blade looked back over his shoulder toward the flat bleak horizon in that direction. It looked as if the plateau went on and on to the end of the world.
Zogades nodded. «Right. Nobody had the stomach for taking all the Guardians off that way, the gods themselves don't know how far, and no way to know if we'll ever come up with the Scadori before our horses start dying under us. It's getting cold here, and it's going to get a damned sight colder damned fast before much longer. So I guess the big heads around the Emperor must have talked him out of going any farther.»
The weather was indeed getting colder. The second night of the march it snowed, just enough to leave the ground shimmering white until the sun rose high enough. But it was a taste of things to come, and the column increased its pace. The horses were getting thin now, but their riders took extra care of them. No one wanted to be left up here on the lonely plateau with its wind and its ghostly Scadori.
By the evening of the sixth day of the return march, Blade could see the mountains that rimmed the plateau to the north and east rising against the sky. The summits and upper slopes gleamed white with snow. Up there, no doubt, lay the answer to what had happened to the mountain tribes. But Blade now found that mystery totally uninteresting. All that interested him now was how fast they could march through the pass that lay out of sight below those distant mountains.
Just before darkness fell, word went around the camp that a party of refugees had arrived from the mountain tribes. At first Blade couldn't see what difference that made. Then the rumors started getting more and more detailed.
The refugees, it was said, were bringing word of a Scadori invasion of their mountains. More than two thousand Scadori warriors were roaming through the lands of the tribes that had helped the Karani, slaughtering men, women, children, even animals. There would not be one of the mountain people left alive when winter came if the Karani did not come to their aid.
In desperation the tribes had set aside all their past quarrels and gathered together on one mountain. There the Scadori had them besieged. In a few more days starvation and cold would drive them out into a last battle, from which not one of them would escape.
The gods themselves would curse the Karani if they did not send aid!
Blade personally felt that the gods would be more likely to curse the Karani for being complete idiots if they ran off into the mountains with winter coming on! But he hadn't realized how frustrated the Guardians were after the long weary march across the plateau. When the word went around that the Scadori were only two days' march away, cheers went up to the sky from all over the camp. It might be idiotic, but suddenly everyone was wild with joy. At last they could get their hands on a bunch of those damned stinking Scadori! Oh, how they'd make the bastards pay for all the cold and weariness and frustration! The night air was filled with bloodcurdling threats.
Blade could understand the Guardians' feelings. He also suspected that even if they hadn't felt that way, Jores VII would have. This was the young Emperor's last chance to make his first campaign even a small triumph, instead of a large disgrace that could only encourage his numerous enemies.
The weather up in the mountains would be uncertain, perhaps dangerous. The land was rough and unknown. Even a handful of Scadori could fight on fairly equal terms, then fade away into the forests where the Guardians would have to dismount to follow them.
Even worse, suppose there were more than just a handful of Scadori? It made no sense to Blade that the enemy would divide their forces this way. The warriors sent to attack the mountain tribes were too far from the rest of their comrades to be helped. The Scadori were too good to make that stupid mistake.
At least, that was the way Blade saw them. But he was the only one who had seen the Scadori froze the inside. Who would listen to what he had to say, a former slave of unknown origins? Who would believe him, even if they listened politely? Blade felt all sorts of uncertainties about this march up into the mountains. But he was also quite certain that he couldn't do anything except keep his mouth shut and be ready to fight for his life.
Chapter 16
The next morning the Guardians moved out much earlier than usual. For the first time in weeks men were smiling and even singing as they formed up in column. For the first time in weeks they felt they were moving toward something.
That evening they pushed on until it was almost dark, then camped in their marching formation. During the night the officers moved about the camp, sorting out the servants, women, baggage boys, and the rest of the camp followers. At last the Guardians were stripping down for action. Seven thousand of them would ride up into the mountains with only the food and gear they could carry on their war horses. A single regiment would remain behind to guard the camp and patrol toward the Pass of Scador and the infantry holding it.
Blade had a nervous moment when he heard that a regiment would be staying behind to guard the camp where Tera would be staying. Left unprotected in a camp commanded by Iscaros, Tera would be lucky to live twenty-four hours. Fortunately, Iscaros' regiment didn't get the job. The one that did had a commander who was perhaps the silliest of all the noble fops in the Guardians. But at least he was no friend of Iscaros or enemy of Blade and Tera.