"I don't think he's your boy," Val said. "Too old. If the stories I heard are true, that boy had to have been at least five or six years old when you left Sentinelspire. Unless you sowed some foreign fields while you were working for the Old Man…"
Their path narrowed, the trees and brush closing in, and Val fell behind. But it didn't deter him.
"Not much of a talker, are you?" he said. "Talieth said that was one of your better qualities."
"What about Talieth?" Berun slowed and half turned before he caught himself.
"Well-hell!" said Val, beaming. "He does speak! A little salt in an old wound there, eh?"
Berun turned his eyes back to the path and kept walking.
He was glad Val was behind him and couldn't see the heat filling his face.
"It true what they say about you and Talieth?" Val said.
"Aren't you tired of talking yet, Val?" said one of the men behind them.
"Just trying to pass the miles."
"Well, we're tired of listening to you," said the other man.
"Then fall back," said Val, a sharp edge in his voice. "You don't have to hold my hand."
"Sauk told us to guard him. Told you that too. Didn't say nothing about sharing our life stories."
"He's not going anywhere," said Val. "Not while Sauk's got his necklace and his boy."
Berun glanced back. The two men didn't fall back, but their scowls now matched his own.
Val grinned and looked at Berun. "Isn't that right?"
Berun turned forward. He pushed aside a branch, thick with broken cobwebs, then let it fly back at Val.
"Don't want to talk about the boy," said Val as he ducked under the branch, "and Talieth seems to be a sore spot. What do you want to talk about?"
"I agree with your friends," said Berun. "You talk too much."
"Friends?" said Val. "These two camel humps aren't my friends."
"Lick my-" one of the men started, but Val ignored him and kept talking.
"See. They don't like me twice as much as I don't like them. We just work together."
"We'll remember that next time we're in a fight," said one of the men.
"Kerlis, you couldn't catch one boy in the woods without burning your hand and crushing your little manhood. Twice. I'm not really counting on you in a fight. Unless we're up against a bunch of little girls."
"You-!"
"Leave it," said the other man. "Sauk's already threatened to feed you to Taaki. Don't let this blond pretty boy drive you into the tiger's jaws."
Berun glanced back. Kerlis looked ready to tear logs with his bare hands. The other man just looked weary.
"Wonderful company, aren't they?" said Val, his smile undiminished.
Berun turned around in time to see something flit off the path and into the brush. For a moment, he hoped it was Perch, whom he hadn't seen since last night, but a closer look showed it was just a spider. A big one. A bark spider. Nasty bite, but the venom did no more than cause a rash and make you thirsty.
"Something tells me you don't have many friends," Berun said to Val.
He heard the man chuckle. "I didn't come to Sentinelspire to make friends. Besides, working for the Old Man provides the only kind of companionship I'm interested in."
Thinking of Perch brought a twinge of worry. Berun felt sure Sauk would have said something had he found-or harmed-the lizard, but he didn't know these other men. They killed people without hesitation. Most of them probably enjoyed it. They likely wouldn't give a moment's thought to harming a treeclaw lizard. Berun kept his eye on the path, let his body do the walking, and tried to relax his mind, to quiet his thoughts, and stretch his senses.
"It true what they say," said Val, "that you and Sauk used to be friends?"
Berun ignored him.
"Word around the campfire is that you used to be the best cold-blooded damned butcher Sauk ever knew-and that's something, coming from Sauk."
"Valmir," said Berun, "I don't share your campfire, so I don't care what is said around it."
Val laughed, the chuckle of a mischievous little boy pulling his sister's hair. "Like it or not, you're going to be shating lots of our campfires. Talk or don't. But you don't tell your tale, and others'll tell it for you."
It wasn't working. Perhaps it was the pain. More likely the constant chatter. But Berun could not sense Perch in the area. He knew the lizard was likely following them, staying out of sight, but even a slight reassurance would have done much to ease Berun's mind.
"The villages," said Berun.
"What villages?"
"Out on the steppes. Hubadai Khahan's new settlements. The attacks on the flocks, the attacks on the shepherds, the dead man… that was you?"
"Me?" said Val.
"This band," said Berun, motioning wide with his hands at their procession, and regretting it. He winced at the pain it brought to his shoulder.
"Nah," said Val. "Not me. Nor any of the others. That was Sauk's doing. Sent that tiger of his. He and Taaki… not natural, if you ask me, but that damned creature will do whatever Sauk wants her to."
"And Sauk wanted Taaki to kill that shepherd?"
"Kill?" said Val. "Don't know that he put that much thought into it. You'd have to ask him. But Sauk knew that the locals'd hire you once they thought some beast had come hunting them. Knew it'd draw you out. Swore it. Said he knew you like a brother. That true? You and him blood brothers?"
Berun ignored the question and sidled around a thorn bush that crowded the path. Broken spider webs clung to its waxy leaves where Sauk had cleared the path. Dozens of spiders- little budbacks no longer than Berun's thumbnail-crawled over the brush in an agitated swarm. The budbacks' venom wouldn't hurt a man-not even so many-but they liked to bite when annoyed.
"Can't stand all these cursed spiders," said Kerlis as he sidled around the bush. "Damned woods are full of 'em. Makes my skin crawl."
The man slapped at the bush with his sword, then hurried away.
Wait, and let your prey give you the chance to attack. Berun smiled.
Chapter Eight
Nauk pushed them hard. They ate and drank while they walked, and by mid afternoon they began their climb into the broken foothills of the Khopet-Dag. The trees in this region were small, but their branches and leaves were thick, darkening the forest floor beneath them. Birdsong ceased, but the air was alive with newly-hatched insects, and spider webs of every sort festooned the wood.
Some of the trees, long dead from blight or drought, were completely enshrouded in webs. Others were entirely free of the sticky strands, and Berun knew that treeclaw lizards were near. Part of Berun was glad, knowing that Perch would feel right at home, but part of him worried that his little friend might become distracted by the abundance of food. Most of the spiders were no larger than a man's knuckle, but Berun saw a few larger than his hand, and he knew that Sauk's men saw them too. Everyone walked with weapons in hand, and they scanned the forest canopy as often as they watched the path. Kerlis had gone pale as a dead fish's eye, and the fist that gripped his short sword trembled.
Even Valmir had gone silent. Whether it was because the forest seemed to call for silence, his wariness of the spiders, or the exertion from walking the steep hills, Berun neither knew nor cared. He simply thanked the Oak Father and every benevolent deity that the man had finally ceased flapping his jaw.
As the sun fell behind distant peaks, their procession topped a small rise where the rocky ground gave only enough soil for stubborn grasses and thorny bushes, giving them a view of the sky for the first time since late morning. Larger foothills stood before them, and the canopy of the great Shalhoond lay behind and to either side. The southern horizon was dark-a storm building over the Ghor Nor. Looking eastward, Berun could see all the forest laid out beneath them, and the Amber Steppes painted a deep gold out of the mountains' shadow. Beyond the grasslands, jutting from the horizon like a broken tooth, stood a mountain. Sentinelspire.