In the cities, they were made to feel less welcome, for they were aligned with the preservers. But since they took no part in politics, they were not perceived as a threat by the ruling classes. Villichi were also well known for their fighting prowess and their psionic abilities, and it was considered wise not to antagonize them. At best, they received a passively hostile reception from the people. An innkeeper might set aside a small, unobtrusive table in a corner and provide a bowl of gruel, with perhaps a few chunks of stale bread. It would be done grudgingly, however, for even if the innkeeper was in sympathy with the preservers, it would not do to be observed treating one with courtesy and kindness.
Sorak was not villichi and could not expect even that kind of cursory treatment. If he had to remain in the city for any significant length of time, he would require money. That meant he would probably have to find some sort of work for which he would be paid. Having never even set foot in a city before, he had no idea what sort of work that might be or how to go about finding it.
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the Watcher. “There are men inside the ruins,” she said.
Sorak stopped. He was still some distance up the trail from the ridge where the ruins stood, but now he saw what the Watcher had already detected through his Own senses. There was a thin, barely perceptible trail of smoke rising from behind the crumbling walls. Someone had built a campfire, the smoke of which was quickly dissipated by the wind. However, it was blowing in his direction, and he could now smell the faint aroma of burning dung, and an unfamiliar odor mixed with the stink of beasts and cooking flesh...
He realized it was the scent of man.
Both elves and halflings possessed senses more acute than those of humans, and Sorak’s were unusually so, in part because he was both elf and halfling, and in part because the Watcher was preternaturally alert to the evidence of those senses.
Unlike beasts, rational creatures could be distracted by their thoughts and, unless they truly paid attention, might miss things reported to them by their senses. No one man could remain in a constant state of alertness, aware of every single piece of information reported by his senses. Such a constant state of concentration would be exhausting, and would leave room for nothing else. However, Sorak was not one man. He was a tribe of one, and the role of the Watcher in that tribe was to do nothing else but pay attention to everything reported by the senses of the body they all shared. The Watcher missed nothing, whether it was significant or not. In this case, the Watcher felt the information was significant enough to alert Sorak to what his senses had already detected, but his own consciousness had not. And now that his alertness s had been triggered by the Watcher, Sorak’s senses seemed suddenly to become much more acute.
The scent of man. But how did he know it was the scent of man without ever having met a man before? The Watcher knew, which obviously meant that at some point in his past, beyond the reach of conscious memory, he had smelled this scent before and known it for what it was. He did not know why, but for some reason, this scent had an association that was unpleasant and disturbing. The corners of his mouth turned down.
“Tigra,” he said softly. “Get out of sight.” The tigone obediently bounded off into the underbrush.
Sorak approached with caution. So far, he could not see them, but as he drew closer, their scent became stronger... the smell of human males, and something else, almost like the scent of human males, but different in some subtle way. And there was the scent of beasts, as well... crodlu—large, bipedal lizards with thick, massive legs, and long, thin forelimbs. Sorak could see them now, tied up to a stand of scrub just beyond the outer walls of the ruins. They stood erect on their heavily muscled legs, their long necks stretched out to their full length as their beaklike jaws tore leaves and small branches from the scrub. He counted six of them, and saw that each of the creatures had a saddle strapped to its broad back, which meant the beasts had been tamed for use as war mounts.
As they sensed his approach, they reacted with loud snorts and pawed at the ground, but Screech came to the fore and snorted back at them, which calmed them down. They went back to munching on the foliage.
“Something is disturbing the crodlu,” a male voice said from just beyond the wall.
“Probably just some animal,” one of the others said. “Anyway, they’re quiet now.”
“Perhaps I should go check on them.”
“Relax, Silok. You worry too much. There’s not a soul around for miles. If someone were trying to sneak up on us, the crodlu would be making a great deal more noise.”
Sorak came up close to the wall, pressing his back up against it as he listened.
One of the men grunted with contentment from his meal, then belched loudly. “You think the caravan will leave tomorrow?”
“Perhaps, but it will likely take more time to fill the wagons and organize for the return trip. Never fear, Kivor, we shall have no trouble spotting the caravan from here when it leaves the city. There will be plenty of time for us to ride down and alert the others.”
“I wish they would hurry up about it,” the one called Silok said irritably. “Damn those lazy merchants. We’ve been up here for three days now, and who knows how much longer we may have to wait? I’m growing sick of this place.”
“What sickens me is that Rokan and the others are having themselves a fine old time in Tyr, drinking and carousing with the ladies while we sit up here in these miserable ruins and freeze our asses off each night.”
“Zorkan’s right,” said one of the others. “I see no reason why we can’t take turns going down into the city. Why should it require six of us to keep watch for the caravan?”
“Because that way we can work in shifts, and some of us can sleep or go to empty our bowels or hunt game. Or would you prefer to sit up here all alone, Vitor? There is greater safety in numbers. We do not know these hills.”
“Nor do I want to know them,” Vitor replied sourly. “The sooner we are quit of this place, the better I shall like it. The cursed bugs up here are eating me alive.”
As the men spoke, Sorak withdrew inside his mind, and the Guardian came to the fore, using her telepathic ability to read their thoughts.
These men are bandits, she realized at once. Marauders from the Nibenay region. But then, what are they doing here? Nibenay is clear across the desert, at the foot of the Barrier Mountains. She probed more deeply, opening herself to all their thoughts. At once, she recoiled from the contact. These were ugly, crude, and vicious minds, preoccupied with the basest thoughts and instincts. With a sense of revulsion, she forced herself to extend her telepathic awareness out toward them again.
She tried to push past their vile thoughts of greed and lust, the images of violent acts these cruel men had committed and cherished in memory. As she sorted through the brutal thoughts and impulses of their minds, she came to loathe them.
These men were parasites, predators of the worst kind, without faith or scruples. They had left their base camp in the Mekillot Mountains and gone east, then followed a trade caravan from Altaruk. Some of them had joined the caravan, posing as traders. They now waited down in the city, waited for the caravan to begin its journey back to Altaruk bearing weapons to be sold in Gulg and profits from the merchant houses of Tyr. Before the caravan could reach Altaruk, however, the marauders planned to attack it. These men camped inside the ruins were the lookouts. When the caravan started out from Tyr, their task was to ride down to where the rest of their band was waiting in the desert and alert them to prepare the ambush.
But why had they come all this way? If their goal was merely to attack the caravan and pillage it, then why not simply strike the caravan near Altaruk or Gulg, both of which were much nearer to the Mekillot Mountains, where these marauders made their home? Why travel so far? The Guardian probed deeper.