Anji nodded. "Best move quickly, then. If you can, let Argent Hall's reeves see us riding for Olossi. Afterward, draw them off and keep them busy. We'll resupply in Olossi this afternoon and scatter at nightfall. By tomorrow, the army will come. It's most likely they will trample the countryside and invest a siege. Were they hauling the makings of siegeworks?"
Joss shrugged. "How could I tell? There are accounts of sieges in the old tales, but I've never seen such a thing. They had wagons carting supplies."
"If they believe the gates will be opened from within by their allies within the Greater Houses, they won't be prepared for a drawn-out ordeal. That is what we must hope for."
Kesta and Volias walked away toward their eagles, but Joss lingered. "What happened to Zubaidit? I don't see her with you."
"She took her brother and went her way at dawn. She said she had fulfilled her obligations, and meant to walk her own path." Anji grinned at Chief Tuvi, and around the group of seven they shared smiles. "Nor did I think to stop her, fearing she might take her revenge on me someday when I least expect it."
"If these eagles are come in their numbers from Argent Hall," said Chief Tuvi, "then it seems she set free the pig and he went running to his mire!"
Their laughter annoyed Joss, and he did not even know why. As the other eagles took off, Scar called to him, an eager chirp. The raptor knew something was afoot. He didn't want to miss the action. As Joss hustled back to the eagle and hooked in, he worked through what was bothering him so much: that Zubaidit had just run away like that, when he had some things left to say to her. Yet she was free to go and come as she wished. She had no bond to him, no obligation. He might wish otherwise, but he knew when to give up the dance.
There was more to his irritation, hard to point to, subtle but rankling.
The Qin were not demonstrative men. In truth, they had about them a fastidious air of superiority; it was well hidden for the most part, but so pervasive was this quality to the fabric of their personalities that it seemed woven into them. Their laughter had shown no scorn. By any measure, it was clear they admired the Devouring woman, as if they thought her worthy in a way no one else they had met in the Hundred was. Not even Joss.
48
The worst came just after dawn when he heard thrashing in the trees. By then, he could not feel either hands or feet. He could not protect himself. And he looked like such a damned fool idiot. Sometimes death was better than shame.
But, after all, the impulse to live was stronger.
A man beat a path through the woods. He had a knife out, and the remains of a soldier's kit, leather scale coat, empty sword sheath, sturdy boots, baggy trousers sewn of stiff cloth, all torn and bloodied. Seeing Horas, he stopped dead, and like an eagle he gaped, showing his tongue.
"What are you?" he asked.
"A reeve from Argent Hall. Cut me loose."
The man looked at the trussing, and the clothes, and he scratched his chin in a puzzled way, trying to work it out. He had worn a helm once; a leather strap, sliced clean, dangled where one end had gotten caught in the neck of his coat.
"Cut me loose!"
He shrugged, and cut him down.
Horas collapsed.
The man pawed through the pile. "No offense, reeve, but I'll be taking this string in exchange for my trouble." He tucked the string of vey into his sleeve. "And this knife."
Horas groaned. Hands and feet came alive with a flaming agony that made him weep. He could do nothing to stop the other man, who finished his theft with a satisfied smile. Back within the trees, a branch snapped, and the man's eyes flared with fear. He cursed under his breath and took a step.
"Wait," Horas said, his voice a croak. "Before you run-what happened?"
"We were attacked at dawn. They weren't taking prisoners, I can tell you. I haven't an eagle to fly away like you do, just my own two feet." He spat on the ground, the old country tradition of expelling bad fortune. Without a spare glance, he took off into the woods.
Horas soon lost track of the crash and rustle of the man's flight. He lay there, teeth gritted and eyes watering. In the end, he crawled to his clothing, and he dressed. In the end, he staggered to a clearing, and set the whistle to his lips. In the end, Tumna came for him. Together they circled until they found the carnage left on the road and saw the company-the very mercenary company that had marched away yesterday!-marching double-time on West Track back toward Olossi. The council had lied to him! They had betrayed their own allies!
That Devouring woman had used him, lured him, shamed him, and then hadn't even had the stomach to kill him afterward.
Furious, fuming, and still hurting like the hells, Horas set his course for Argent Hall.
MIDMORNING HE CIRCLED a leaden-winged Tumna over Argent Hall, and landed. Leaving the eagle for the hall's fawkners, he shouted at some stray lagabout to ring the alert before walking to the marshal's cote, where he was refused entry. The alarm bell jangled twice, but quit after that. He was just about to push past the old slave who blocked the steps and shove the door aside himself, when the senior reeves hurried into the garden.
"Are you insane, Horas?" whined Toban. "You'll get us all punished."
"Too late. The strike force was attacked at dawn and wiped out."
"Why didn't you warn them?" demanded Weda. The bitch.
"Nothing I could do," he said, "you cursed fool ass-lickers. While you sit here and feast and the marshal pokes his merry pigs, Olossi's council is betraying us. I flew past on my way back here. The whole population is afoot, fleeing into the walls. They know what's coming, and they're making ready to fight."
The door slid open. Marshal Yordenas appeared, looking weary but composed. His cold gaze made the reeve suddenly wish he were an ant, beneath notice. He wiped sweat from his neck.
"Why did you not return last night?" asked the marshal in that dull, quiet voice.
The lot of them were fools twice over, and all his shame and anger boiled up just thinking of it. "Captured, that's what! They're a damned sight cleverer than any of you are. It's mere fortunate chance I escaped and got back here to warn you."
The gang of four watched the marshal carefully. It struck Horas for the first time that they watched the marshal in the same way they would keep their gaze fixed on a poisonous snake.
"Best you gather two flights and rid us of these troublesome gnats."
"You going to fly with us?" Horas demanded.
Toban gasped, and Weda flinched. They cowered, waiting for the marshal to bite. They were all afraid of him, but he was only an opportunist who had moved in and worked promises and threats to get himself elevated to a position he did not deserve and had not earned.
Those blank eyes were turned on him. "Did you know, Horas, that I never sleep? I am burdened by such dreams as would drive a sane man into madness."
Horas stepped back, anything to get farther away from him. For obviously, the dreams had already done their work. Why hadn't he seen that before? Toban grabbed his arm and yanked him another few steps back.
"Nay, make it three flights."
"Uh, uh."
"Speak up, Toban. I can't hear you."
"Marshal, we're sorely understrength. Three flights aloft will leave us only one to cover Argent Hall."
"Three flights," said the marshal as if he were discussing the night's menu. "It will be three flights. Olossi's Greater Houses must not be allowed to betray the agreement they sealed with us. And there is a rumor-she is looking for the one who escaped her-she'll be angry-"