For a moment it seemed that Rizcarn knew the answers to Chayan's questions and would share them. Then his mad eye narrowed with cunning intelligence. "Where are the others?" He looked left and right before choosing the direction that would lead him back to Chayan's little fire. "There's still time. She cares for you, Ebroin. She's forgiven you. Zandilar will dance with you at the Sunglade. The rest doesn't matter."
And though the dancing goddess had saved his life, that was nothing Bro wanted to hear. He didn't like the way Rizcarn's manner had changed so suddenly, either, almost as if something sleeping inside Rizcarn had awakened. Bro tried not to think about the warning Chayan and Halaern had given him: Rizcarn might be possessed by a Red Wizard, but at this moment possession seemed preferable to some of the other thoughts in his head. He wrapped his hand around the hilt of the Simbul's dagger.
Beside him, Chayan cursed and muttered under her breath. "He knows. He knows. At least he knows who it was ... what it was. It's Yuirwood, not Thayan. He wouldn't know the Red Wizards." She paused. "Cold tea and crumpets. That body we found. Half wizard, half Cha'Tel'Quessir. What walked away? Half Cha'Tel'Quessir, half wizard? Could that happen? It could happen. Anything can happen in the Yuirwood. What does he remember? Halaern said the Yuirwood doesn't like him. Well, maybe it wouldn't, not if he's half wizard. And where does Zandilar fit in? Elminster! You hairy old goat, this is all your fault!"
"Elminster?" Bro knew the name. Everyone alive knew Elminster's name. "Is Elminster involved in this?"
Chayan scowled. "Elminster? Who said anything about Elminster?"
"You did, just now. You said 'Elminster, you hairy old goat, this is all your fault.'—"
"You heard me say that?" She scowled deeper and stared at his hand, still clutching the knife, before she shook her head. "I must be getting tired. It's something we said fighting the Tuigans. Whenever something went wrong: Elminster, this is your fault."
Bro walked beside her another few steps before saying, "You said it in Trade." He meant the common human language of all Faerun.
"There weren't many Cha'Tel'Quessir up fighting the Tuigans, Ebroin. You pick up a lot of languages when you spend your life fighting other folk's battles. Wait and see, when I'm truly exhausted, I might start cursing in goblin or orc."
Bro didn't expect to hear either of those exotic languages any time soon. He wasn't entirely convinced Chayan was tired. Rizcarn certainly wasn't. He was striding across the moonlit ground as if he'd just awakened from a good night's sleep and Chayan was having no trouble keeping up with him. The sell-sword was as strange as everything else in Bro's strange journey from Sulalk to who-knewwhere, but when she held out her hand, he grasped it without hesitation.
There were eight, not eleven, Cha'Tel'Quessir waiting for them when they got back to the fire. Rizcarn said they should start walking again. Bro argued, saying they should wait until dawn and look for more survivors. He turned to Chayan, expecting her support, but she was as stone-faced as the others.
"Do you want to be in this place when the sun comes up?" she asked.
"No, but—"
"There are no more survivors, Ebroin."
"The dead?"
"It took four men half a day to dig Lanig's grave." "Their beads?"
Chayan patted a pouch at her waist. "I have all I could find."
Rizcarn was leading the other eight away.
"This is war, Ebroin." She held out her hand again.
Bro shook it off. "It's Sulalk. It's the same as Sulalk." He had an unwelcome vision of crows and vultures perched on the cottage roof. "It's not right," he muttered, on the verge, suddenly, of tears. "It's not fair."
"It never is, Ebroin."
She took his hand and led him away.
They walked through dawn and into a bright, cool morning. Fewer people made faster progress along the trail. Bro recognized the forest now, in a general way. Details had changed in seven years, of course, but he knew when they were near MightyTree and said nothing as they walked past the trails that would have taken him south and west to home.
Rizcarn called a midday halt. Two of the Cha'Tel'Quessir fell asleep as soon as they sat. The rest ate what they had before closing their eyes. Rizcarn found a suitable rock to use with his chisel and started carving Relkath's rune into every tree large enough to hold it. Chayan told Bro to take a nap while she kept watch.
"Once I fall asleep, you're going to go off and talk to your cousin."
"You have a suspicious mind, Ebroin."
"But you are, aren't you? You wouldn't have walked away if you hadn't known he was alive. You're going to ask him about the Red Wizards, whether they were close enough to get killed, and tell him what you've seen, so he can tell the Simbul."
"And I suppose you'll follow me, if I don't invite you to come along?"
He didn't bother answering the question, but got up and walked with her. Trovar Halaern waited in the crook of a tree no more than three hundred paces from where they'd been sitting. The forester was tired and ragged.
"Bad storm last night, cousin," he said as he leapt down from the tree. "Worse for you though. I see Rizcarn survived, and Ebroin. You're still headed for the Sunglade?"
"Zandilar has Ebroin's colt. My bones say she's going to dance tonight whether we're there or not. What about our Red Wizard spies? How did they fare last night?"
"Better than they deserved, my—cousin. Wet and frightened and convinced that they're on the right trail. They outnumber you now, almost two to one. Rizcarn seems to be a changed man."
"Several times over," Chayan agreed. "I'm starting to think that corpse the Simbul found—"
Halaern cleared his throat. "The foresters found it, cousin, following her suggestions."
"I knew I didn't find it. But it wasn't wholly Cha'Tel'Quessir or Red Wizard, and I don't think Rizcarn is, either."
"That should make tonight more than interesting."
Chayan nodded. "I think it's time to make it less interesting. Ebroin had a good idea the other day. There're too many Red Wizards in the Yuirwood."
"And the Simbul?"
"If she asks, we'll blame it on Elminster, won't we, Ebroin?"
"Elminster?" Halaern looked from his cousin to Bro.
"It's a joke, I think," Bro explained. He wished he'd had the sense to stay with the other Cha'Tel'Quessir. When Chayan and her cousin bantered, he felt like a child who only understood every other word in adult conversation. "I overheard her cursing Elminster last night after the storm. She said it was a habit she picked up fighting the Tuigans."
"You never mentioned that, cousin."
Chayan flashed a dangerously toothsome grin. "When do we have a chance to talk, cousin? What about our solitaire Red Wizard, the one that followed Rizcarn out of the camp when it was west of here? At first you said you thought it was a woman. Why? And do you still think so?"
"Before Rizcarn left, I found a footprint, small and narrow. It could've come from a child or a halfling, but my best guess was a woman. I haven't seen any more. She's smarter than the others, I think, and she's alone, or nearly so. I never saw her, only felt her presence, and I haven't felt it since Rizcarn left. She's stopped using magic."
Chayan seemed lost in her own thoughts. Bro seized an opportunity to ask a question that had been very important two days ago, "Did Rizcarn actually visit MightyTree? He said he would, but he wasn't gone long enough, even if he ran day and night."
"It would seem that he did, Ebroin. According to Urell, Rizcarn, or something like him, appeared at his door in the middle of the night and gave him his daughter's necklace. Rizcarn said he couldn't stay, but wanted a mourning bead, so Urell gave him one off his own neck. That is MightyTree work." The forester pointed to the bead in question.
"How?"
"Why not ask him yourself?" Chayan asked, more an order than a question. She turned to Halaern. "You'll join me after?"
"Yes," he agreed, but she was already walking away, not as quiet as a forester, but quiet enough that she was quickly gone. "Come on, Ebroin. I'll walk you back to the others."
Bro folded his arms. "I'm not a child, Trovar Halaern, and I saw what Red Wizards can do to a whole village. She's got a sword, that's all. She doesn't even have her spear anymore and she decides— just like that—that she's going to destroy the Red Wizards?"
Halaern nodded. "Let's go, Ebroin."
"Chayan's not what she says she is, is she?"
"She's very good at what she does, and one of the things she does is destroy her enemies, including Red Wizards."
"She's not your cousin."
The forester gave up with a sigh. "No, Ebroin, Chayan's not my cousin; and she's not what she seems, either."
"She's Zandilar in disguise, isn't she?"
Halaern was speechless. Bro was pleased with himself and his guess. He started back to the napping Cha'Tel'Quessir. A twig snapped; the forester must be so flustered that he was making noise as he caught up. Bro turned around. He saw a shadow, then a face, then hands that grabbed him.
He heard a voice from deeper in the shadow: "Good, Lailomun, my pet. You caught him. Now bring him here."
Bro struggled and as he did he heard another voice, the forester's, but it came too late. He fell forward into darkness. 26
The Yuirwood, in Aglarond Afternoon, the twenty-fourth day of Eleasias, The Year of the Banner (1368DR)
The queen of Aglarond shed her Cha'Tel'Quessir disguise as she walked through the forest, in search of Thayan wizardry. She became herself, silver haired, blue eyed, and deadly, but still dressed in the durable leather garments Chayan SilverBranch had worn. Her shadow, cast by the sun and by magic, rustled branches as she moved beneath them. The Simbul, when she was hunting Red Wizards, scorned stealth.
A Red Wizard, especially a solitary novice sent to keep an eye on the Cha'Tel'Quessir, knew he was in trouble well before he knew what that trouble was. Alassra heard the novice break into a noisy run, headed straight for his companions. They'd be waiting for her, ready as they could be; that concerned her not at all. Fair play was a worthy notion in children's games, but when it came to squashing one's enemies, the Simbul liked to have them facing her and concentrated in a single location where lightning and fire were most effective. If Mythrell'aa had been among them, Alassra might have changed her tactics, but Mythrell'aa was surely the solitaire and the reason Alassra was exterminating lesser nuisances.