The ma continued its cautious forward movement until it stood within the semicircle. It appeared to be half asleep. Then with one abrupt motion, the male Talent on the near end of the semicircle raised a heavy club and brought it down against the slim, sloping neck where it joined the skull. The ma crumpled, instantly, painlessly dead.
The men were lifting the hind legs in preparation to drag it back to camp when suddenly all the Talents froze in their places momentarily, then dropped what they were doing and ran back toward the camp, leaving their prize game animal where it had fallen.
"This looks bad," Tlad said and started to scramble down the tree. "Something's wrong!"
The tery followed him to the ground, but once on all fours, he left Tlad behind as he raced for the camp. He found chaos, with silent, grim-faced people running in all directions, grabbing weapons and harnessing mounts. He immediately looked for Adriel and could not find her. A chill of foreboding stole over him as he hunted up Komak.
He finally found him at the weapons wagon, filling a quiver with arrows. The tery hesitated, fearful for Adriel, yet unable to learn a thing about her.
Tlad arrived then, puffing from the run, calling for Komak. The big red-haired man ignored the call and strode toward his tent without answering. Tlad, however, would not be put off. As the tery watched in the waning light, he intercepted Komak and matched his stride. After a brief exchange, Tlad stopped short and grabbed Komak's arm. They seemed to be arguing. Komak finally wrenched free of Tlad's grasp and hurried away.
The tery approached Tlad, hoping he might learn something from him.
"There you are." He squatted before him and put one hand on his shoulder. "Listen, my furry friend, and listen welclass="underline" Adriel has been captured by Kitru's troops. No one knows how it happened but there are tracks to the south that show Adriel and Dennel walking right into the arms of a squad of troopers."
The tery felt as if he had been hit in the chest with a battering ram. He couldn't breathe.
Not my Adriel!
He turned to head toward the keep but Tlad pulled his head back around and stared into his eyes.
"Listen to me! These fools are going after her — they have some crazy idea about storming the keep. That may be just what Kitru wants. Not only will he have a Finder in his control, but he'll be able to slaughter all the Talents who escaped when the proclamation first came through. You" — he slapped the tery's shoulder — "must get to the keep first. Get in there and get her out. I don't know how you're going to do it, but try. Not only does Adriel's life depend on it, but the lives of everyone in this camp. You owe them, and now it's pay-back time. Get going!"
The tery needed to hear no more. Without a backward glance he turned and trotted into the trees, pacing himself for what he knew would be a long and dangerous journey through the darkening forest. With easy, loping strides, he left the scrambling psi-folk behind. He would get there long before them.
He was well on his way to the keep before he realized that, without the slightest hesitation, Tlad had told him what had happened, what he should do, and why he should do it — fully expecting him to understand every word.
— XI-
The keep was a darker blot against a darkened sky when the tery reached the edge of the forest. He stole through the narrow streets between the huts and houses of the village that surrounded it. The main gate was well guarded and well lit. Torchlight flickered off the guards and the metal fastenings of the gate itself, and off the rotting crucified corpses nearby, remnants of heretics and criminals and anyone else whose misfortune it was to displease Lord Kitru. The bodies hung and stank until they rotted off the spikes that pinned them there or until the spot was needed for a fresh miscreant.
The tery turned away and moved off into the darkness. Finally, far from the gate, he stood at the base of the high outer wall and gathered his strength and wits. He had never been in the keep before, but that didn't bother him — he had often hunted unfamiliar sections of the forest and come back with game over his shoulder.
This would be like a hunt — the keep would be an unknown section of forest, the troopers would be the big predators with which he was always in competition, and Adriel would be the prey. He geared up his confidence. He could do this. He had been raised in the forest with a club as his only weapon — he learned either to use his strength with stealth and cunning or go hungry. The tery had seldom gone hungry.
He began to climb. The outer wall was crudely made of rough stone, and his long fingers found easy holds as he scuttled upward. He reached the top and raised his eyes above the ledge. A narrow walkway ran all along the outer wall with wooden stairs leading up to it. Sputtering torches and oil lamps placed at odd intervals within the wall showed a number of irregular buildings that made up the keep, one standing noticeably higher than the others.
A bored-looking sentry approached along the walkway. The tery lowered himself and hung by his fingertips just below the ledge until the guard had passed, then slithered over the top, dashed across the parapet, and dropped into the deep shadow under the walkway.
With his heart pounding, he crouched and waited. No alarm sounded, no troopers came running. He had penetrated the first line of defense. The next step was to decide which building to search first.
His gaze was drawn to the tall, imposing structure that stood over the other buildings. That would be where Lord Kitru would reside — it seemed logical that a man who believed himself above other men would want to live where he could look down on them.
With neither weapons nor clothing nor accouterments, the tery was a fleeting shadow among other shadows as he made his way to the base of the tower. Yes, Kitru would dwell here. And who would better know the location of the captured Finder than the lord of the keep? Perhaps he had even quartered her here to assure her safekeeping.
He looked up the face of the tower wall. It was made of the same rough stone as the outer wall, so climbing it would be no problem. The surface was pierced here and there by narrow windows which the tery judged wide enough to allow him entrance. He started up. He had traveled only three man-heights when a shout from below caused him to freeze and hug the wall.
"Ho! You there on the tower! What are you doing?"
The doors to the trooper barracks flew open, followed by the sound of many running feet in the darkness.
The same voice spoke again. "You! Come down from there! I've got a crossbow now…start down now! No tricks or I'll spit you with a bolt!"
Glancing up, the tery saw the lowest window not far above him. He made a sudden frantic leap to reach it. True to his word, the guard below loosed a bolt. The missile grazed the tery's ear and smashed against the wall in front of his face. Fragments of stone and mortar peppered his eyes. Recoiling, he felt his fingers slip off the stone. Despite his best efforts, he lost his precarious grip and fell. He landed on all fours but found nowhere to run — the wall was to his back and two full squads of troopers faced him with drawn weapons.
"Someone get a light and let's see who we've got here."