He was more right than he knew.
The seer raised a hand for the party to halt. "We must dismount here, at the edge of the Great Swamp. The ground is too treacherous to support the weight of horses."
Hands helped him down, moved to assist the somber Titch. As the horses were being tethered, a brooding Kegan walked over to whisper to Torquil.
"We went to a lot of trouble to get those horses. Ten to one they won't be here when we get out of that." He nodded sharply toward the swamp ahead, "If we get out."
"Come now, my friend," Torquil murmured softly, "do you think old Torquil would lead you on a journey without profit? Don't worry about the horses. We can buy more if necessary."
"There has been much talk of driving off the Slayers and of saving the land, of destinies and duties. I agreed to come along with that 'king' because it seemed meet to do so at the time, and because you made the decision. But in my heart I long for a visit to some city where we may again lighten the purses of those fat citizens who would keep our faces in the dirt."
"Those days will come again, my friend, if we lose our promised pardon. Meanwhile take heart. All is not as bleak as it may appear."
"Is it not?" Kegan let out a derisive snort. "So far all I see are losses and the potential of more."
Torquil slipped a hand into one back pocket and felt of the slim, cool shapes lying there. "Patience, Kegan, patience."
The other thief noted Torquil's tone as well as the movement of his hand. "Now, what secret would you be toying with there, good Torquil?"
"Not one to reveal here and now," came the reply. He nodded over to where Colwyn was in discussion with the two wise men. "There are eyes here that might frown on a little harmless work." With that he moved away, leaving a frustrat-
ed but intrigued Kegan to wonder what his chief was talking about.
"Ah, my friends," Torquil said pleasantly as he approached the triumvirate, "how are we to proceed? The day will not wait on us and I'd as soon spend as few nights as possible in such a place."
The seer raised a hand and pointed into the morass. "The temple lies near the center of the swamp, which comes very near dry land here. The place we seek is marked by three trees that grow as one." He reached out and placed a hand on Titch's shoulders. "Many's the time I've instructed the boy on its location, so it should not be lost should anything happen to me. He knows the way as well as I."
"You ask us to follow the lead of a blind man and a boy," Torquil muttered to Colwyn. "You ask much."
"I promise much. In any case we have no choice, my friend. This is no time for hesitation." He nodded toward the swamp. " 'Tis a wonder that even bog plants can grow in such a place. It smells of death."
"Power and death are cousins," Ynyr offered. "They have much in common."
"Not to me they don't." Torquil found the analogy displeasing. "I don't much like your relatives, old man."
"As the gentleman has pointed out," the seer murmured, "we waste the daylight." Steadying himself with Titch he started confidently forward into the swamp. Muck sucked at his boots and leggings but did not drag him down. Colwyn and Ynyr followed while Ergo boldly preceded the disgruntled but resigned thieves.
At least it wasn't raining, Colwyn thought. They were not as miserable as they might have been. He recalled the last time they'd traversed such a place and wondered if similar thoughts had occurred to Torquil. If so, they did not show on the bandit chief's face. Colwyn lengthened his stride until he was walking alongside the boy. Titch watched the ground carefully, leading the seer by the hand.
"Is this the only route?"
Titch nodded. "The only one I was taught, sir."
"There is only the one way," the seer added. "If we deviate from it even slightly, we will find ourselves swallowed by the quicksands that abound here. What troubles you about our path?"
"I dislike traveling any terrain where the air itself gives cover to potential assailants." He nodded toward the lake off to their left. "Follow the shoreline as closely as possible, boy. That way we'll only have to watch one side."
"I will try to do so, sir."
"Awkward country." Colwyn unconsciously fingered the hilt of his sword. "Not even a safe line of retreat. Keep a sharp lookout. If we can penetrate this swamp, so can our enemies."
"The-same thought had already occurred to me. I have already warned the others to be on the alert," said Torquil.
Colwyn clapped him on the back and moved down the line to chat with the rest of his men, reassuring himself even as he reassured them.
Ergo slipped an errant gooseberry, one of several he had acquired earlier, from one pocket and popped it quickly into his mouth… but not quite quickly enough.
"I smell gooseberries," said Titch excitedly. He hesitated, sniffing the moist air, then glanced wide-eyed at Ergo.
"Ah well, share and share alike. It seems I've found some I'd forgotten, just in time to part with them. Your nose is as big as your eyes, boy."
"The seer says that a man should not be guided by any one sense but should learn to utilize all at his command. He says that in this way we may better master our surroundings."
"Even to including gooseberries, it would seem." Ereo fished through one voluminous pocket, brought out one last handful, and passed them to the boy.
"Thank you, magnificence!"
His master has taught him courtesy, Ergo mused. Not to mention the ability to estimate the stature of those around him.
"Don't mention it."
The boy was downing them one at a time, luxuriating over the flavor and texture of each individual berry. "Truly you are a wizard fit to consort with my master. Only one of true ability could conjure up treats like this."
Yes, most courteous and perceptive, Ergo decided as he fumbled through another pocket. "Here, boy," he said magnanimously, "have a few more. Now, tell me that about my ability again?"
Torquil kept silent until Colwyn had concluded his inspection and returned to the forefront of the troupe. Then the bandit leader slowed his walk until he fell in next to Kegan. He reached into a pocket, withdrew a small cloth pouch.
"If you want to see the profit of this journey, take a look in this."
Kegan eyed him uncertainly for a moment, then took the pouch. He extracted a handful of rocks. Dull, gray, featureless pebbles. Crystals of sand and mica and feldspar. He stared intently at them, thinking he might be missing something, before returning his gaze to his chief.
"They're worth a fortune," Torquil was whispering, his gaze still on Colwyn. "And I memorized the location well. Plenty of time after we finish with this business to return and gather up all we can carry. The smallest alone's worth a king's ransom."
"Maybe," replied Kegan dryly, "to someone who's very nearsighted, or heir to a very poor kingdom."
"What? What are you blathering… ?" He gaped at Kegan's open palm. "Where did you get those rocks?"
"From your pouch full of profit."
"That's not possible! I took only the finest—" He broke off as he dug into his other pockets, pulling out handfuls of narrow gray stones. No green light burned in their depths, no promise of the easy life shone from glassy surfaces. Numb, he let them fall to the ground. The only light they threw back at him came from bits of quartz embedded in the matrix.
Kegan was shaking his head, his voice pitying. "Poor Torquil, once the finest thief on the north continent, now reduced to this. Remind me to steal you some reading glasses."
Torquil tore his gaze from the place where he'd dropped the worthless rocks and all but snarled at his companion. "I swear to you, they were emeralds. Emeralds the size of a man's hand!"