As he rode, Kharl took in the land around him, looking for lanes leading off the pike to the south that might curve eastward or intersect other smaller roads or lanes. He didn’t recall taking the pike when he had sought out Lyras, and that meant that there were other ways to the dockworks than the route they were taking.
He was also trying to sense where the white wizards were. He’d felt nothing immediately after leaving Buvert’s estate, but as they left Tinker-town behind and neared the outskirts of Valmurl, he could sense two separate areas of chaos-presumably the two white wizards. One was less than two kays from where he rode, closer to the dockworks. The other-and stronger-influence was somewhere to the south of Valmurl. To Kharl, that meant that the stronger white wizard was with Lord Hensolas, and the weaker with Fergyn’s forces.
Ahead of them, the pike began to descend slightly into a lower meadow area between two stone walls. The grass showed the lighter green of spring. At the crest of a gentle rise some sixty rods farther along the pike to the southeast, scarcely more than half a kay away, a low wall of greenery lay across the road.
“They’ve blocked the pike,” said Demyst. “Felled firs or something and dragged them into place.”
Kharl studied the makeshift barrier, catching sight of men behind the ragged green barrier. “They’ve got armsmen there.”
“We need to pull up. If they have cannon and rifles, we’ll be too exposed on the downslope ahead.” Demyst turned in the saddle, raising his right arm. “Squads halt! To the rear, ride!”
As they turned back the way they had come, Kharl studied the area to the south of the pike even more closely. Ahead, he saw a narrow way, wider than a path, but barely a lane, that bordered an ill-tended pearapple orchard.
“It’s time for me to head off,” Kharl said. “I need to look into this more closely. Can you have a squad stand by for me, starting in two glasses?”
“Ah … ser … where did you have in mind?”
“Nowhere close to the rebel forces. What about where the lane from Tinkertown leaves the pike?”
Demyst nodded. “That’d not be a problem, not unless they attack, and I don’t see that happening.”
“If they do, I’m on my own.”
“You say two glasses, ser?”
“Probably be closer to three,” Kharl admitted.
“We’ll be there, ser.”
With a nod to Demyst, Kharl turned his mount off the pike and onto the lane that led past the pearapple orchard. He did not hear a word from the lancers, even using his order-senses. Once he was well away from the lancers, he extracted the blue sash from his tunic and smoothed it in place across his chest. As he neared the southern end of the orchard, he saw a cot and a small barn to his right. A woman with a babe in her arms turned, then rushed back to the cot.
The door closed with a muffled thud.
Beyond the orchard were fields, recently tilled. Kharl could not see anything sprouting yet, and he had no idea what crops the smallholders might grow. The sun continued to beat down, and the black-and-greenwool uniform was far warmer than Kharl had expected. He blotted the dampness from his forehead and kept riding.
He rode south almost a kay, watching as holders and their consorts and children either fled or watched him pass stolidly With each rod he rode, the huts and cots were closer and closer together, until they stood almost as close together as in Valmurl itself, with barely space for small gardens between each dwelling. At the first wider way, one rutted with the tracks of carts and wagons, he turned eastward. Ahead, he could see the taller warehouses and the cranes of the dock area. Only a few people were out and about, and they stayed well clear of the road.
Another rider, also in uniform and with a blue sash, rode toward Kharl. As he neared the mage, the younger lancer called out to Kharl, “Careful when you get to the square. Old ironbritches’bout to bust a gut.”
“Thanks. Need to watch out to the north. There’s a road patrol farther out on the pike.”
“Thanks to you.”
With a nod, Kharl passed the lancer, letting his order-senses track the man until they were several rods apart, but the man never looked back.
The nearer Kharl rode to the docking area, the quieter and emptier thestreets became. A good three blocks short of the square to the north of the dockworks proper, Kharl turned his mount southward along a side street, one lined with modest dwellings. Most were shuttered and locked. A prudent precaution, the mage reflected.
As he rode he used his order-senses to gather in impressions of chaos. A well of whiteness was centered almost due east of where he rode, and at the next corner, he turned his mount back eastward, toward the square and the northern end of the harbor-the part holding the shipworks and dry docks and the majority of the factors’ warehouses. That was where he and the crew of the Seastag had refitted the ship some two seasons before. Had it only been two seasons?
He could see lancers in green and black, with the blue sashes, riding back and forth, as if on a post set across the southern side of the square. Glancing ahead, Kharl looked for a place to tie his mount. He settled on a hitching rail outside a felter’s shop because the shop was shuttered and seemed empty. There he dismounted and began to walk toward the square.
He was now somewhat west and south of the center of the whitish fount of chaos, which he felt was less than a block to the north of where he was. At the corner of the square, where one of the other lancers glanced in his direction, Kharl turned and nodded northward, half-shrugging.
A wry expression crossed the sentry’s face. “Good luck.”
“Need it,” Kharl replied, and kept walking, past a row of three shops, a wool factor’s, a leather factor’s, and a small brassworks.
Ahead of him to his left was a three-story building-its bricks painted a faded light green. The sign hung over the large double doors read OSSAFAL AND SONS, FACTORS, and the letters were a faded dark green. Two armsmen stood before the doors.
Kharl did not wish to use any active order-skills until he was far closer to the white wizard. Before reaching the southern end of the building, as he passed the brassworks, Kharl turned left and down the narrow lane between the brassworks and larger factor’s structure. The loading dock to the brassworks was closed, and there was no doorway on the south side of the green-brick building-the structure within which was one of the white wizards.
At the end of the side lane on the north side was an enclosed yard, with a gate. The lock on the gate had already been broken. Kharl paused, letting his order-senses receive a feeling for the rear yard. It was empty,except for three mounts tethered to a beam protruding from a sagging dock that had not been used in years. The former loading dock door had been boarded shut, leaving just a smaller door to one side.
The steps up to the smaller door creaked as Kharl took them. He did not sense anyone just inside the building. Still, he opened the door and paused before stepping inside. Beyond the door was an oblong room half-filled with pallets on which bales had been roped, amphorae, crates, and a number of boxes clearly wrenched open. Scuff marks in the dust on the scarred wooded floors showed where pallets had been recently moved.
An armsman straightened up from where he’d been rummaging through one of the boxes. He frowned.
“Message for the wizard,” Kharl offered, ready to clamp shields around the other at the slightest sign of alarm.