"And I believe," The Masked said slowly, "that you've been drinking deeply from different vials than you offered us. I admire your zeal, and I think your dream is wonderful. Yet forgive me, Orivin Voyvik, but I cannot see the road from here and now to the dream you seek. Nor do I see how a rogue like me could ever help build one."
"Great achievements are seldom accomplished with single deeds," Voyvik replied quickly. "Such abrupt attempts are apt to be a bit …messy. For now, I seek only to recruit you. I know you've fought and slain both Molthuni and Nirmathi, but when every man's hand is raised against you, of course you defend yourself. I want you to be the strong hands at my side as I work for Nirmathas-and, in a way, for Molthune as well. I can train you, I can lead you, and although it will take many small steps, many missions, we can achieve this dream of mine."
"Perhaps so," The Masked said slowly, "but our memories are not as bad as you might hope them to be. We've seen you in action. I'm not sure I can trust you to be our leader, to obey you without wondering always as to your true intentions."
Voyvik waved a dismissive hand. "I realize this is abrupt for you," he said, rising and starting to pace, "and that trust is never won so swiftly or easily. But what I have done, I've done for the cause. It justifies all!"
Justifies all, Tantaerra thought. Well, now. That really meant he'd do anything to them, to get closer to his dream, didn't it?
Tantaerra recalled Voyvik's smile as he'd brought the Telcanors across the rooftop to fall on the Watchswords, and the gleefully murderous look that had risen onto his face during his vicious battle with The Masked.
"How can we believe you?" she heard herself snapping. "How can you prove, or stand by, a single word you've said? No. A thousand times, no. If such as you serve Nirmathas, then I reject Nirmathas utterly."
Voyvik frowned. "Please understand," he said earnestly, "that I'd do anything for my cause. Anything. My life is dedicated to so weakening Molthune that it can no longer make war on Nirmathas, so we can build this land-a land at peace-into greatness. A Nirmathas free of tyranny, of oppression! You endangered all I'd worked for in Halidon, by killing the investigator the General Lords had sent there before I could mislead him into making real trouble for the fools who squabble in Braganza. That meant I had to get out of Halidon, and what better way to do so than to chase you? I had to learn who you two were-and whom or what you were working for. You are formidable. Nirmathas needs you. Surely you've felt the hard hand of Molthuni authority, time and again? Well, I work to weaken that authority, in ways large and small. Preventing Halidon from felling the Backar Forest at will is one-and bringing down Braganza, with its warring local families and insane governor, is another."
"Words, words," The Masked said dismissively.
"Deeds," Voyvik countered, snatching up the empty potion vials and waving them.
"Heal us so you can use us?" Tantaerra flung at him. "You want praise for treating your intended slaves well?"
"I want no slaves! I want to free all Nirmathi from the bitter choice of death or slavery!"
"That," The Masked said grimly, "sounded just a little bit rehearsed."
"Well, what can I do to convince you? Does the healing, your freedom from pain, count for nothing? You were dying. If you'd gone on walking and fighting and not resting, with that arrowhead still in you, festering …"
"I know," The Masked replied. "So I've listened, and largely kept quiet, and thought hard on this. And come back, again and again, to this: I don't trust you, Voyvik. I don't believe you. I don't know that you can change that. You wanted to kill me, on that rooftop. I looked into your eyes as we fought. I saw your eagerness to slay, your hatred. I see it now, even as you ask us to trust you. We, your bound captives."
Voyvik shook his head. "You misjudge me. I-"
He stopped speaking and cocked his head, listening intently.
Then he bent, plucked up the dagger of Tantaerra's he'd used earlier, sliced the ropes binding their throats to the log, then drove the dagger into the forest loam right beside one of her hands.
"We'll continue this discussion later," he breathed, "when there isn't someone creeping closer to interrupt it. All your other weapons are piled on the other side of the log."
The crimson glow winked out as the lantern was rehooded and snatched up.
And then he was gone, a few branches swaying in his wake.
Tantaerra allowed herself time to spit out just one heartfelt curse, before she snatched up the knife and rolled toward The Masked.
∗ ∗ ∗
"You move quickly when you need to," The Masked whispered approvingly, as they caught their breaths atop a rocky ridge well west of the hollow.
"That potion left me wide awake and full of verve," Tantaerra replied, "and I did not want to have to fight another Nirmathi warband. Or a Molthuni patrol. After all, one or more of them just might have decided to put another hole in you. Or me."
The Masked winced at the memory, shook his head to banish it, and admitted, "I feel fresh and full-rested, too. What say we devote ourselves to some serious travel? Quiet and wary, but getting ourselves a good long way away from here."
"Certainly," Tantaerra agreed, "after we stop over there, where the moonlight's strong, and have a good search and feel to make sure our Nirmathi zealot didn't put anything on us that he can trace us by. A magic pebble, or some such. I do not trust that man."
"I'd gathered that-and it's just possible, after all you said to him, that he might have gathered that," The Masked joked, heading for the moonlight.
They spent some time at it, keeping low so they'd not be seen from afar, but couldn't find anything new, or that looked amiss.
"He does know where we're headed," The Masked pointed out, and Tantaerra granted that point.
"Haul out that map," she ordered. He obeyed, displaying it with a flourish. Whereupon she was forced to admit that not having the slightest idea where they were now made it less than useful.
The Masked circled an area with his forefinger. "We're somewhere hereabouts," he murmured, "and have to get to there." His finger pointed out Hurlandrun. "Not all that far off."
He lifted his hand to indicate the rocks around them. "And I can't help but notice," he added, "that this ridge curves a little north of true west, taking us more or less toward where we want to end up. So, it being a nice starry night, and that star marking north to tell us where we're heading when we get down into the trees again …"
"Such a clever masked man," Tantaerra told him. "Lead on."
The Masked gave her a little bow, the first she'd seen from him in a while, and did so.
∗ ∗ ∗
The sun was low in a golden sky, a few fingers of cloud near the horizon but nothing overhead, when Tantaerra and The Masked paused wearily in a clearing in the seemingly endless forest, looked at each other, and agreed it was time to seek somewhere to hide and sleep out the night.
They'd walked all night, and now all the day after that, finding many clear springs and fast-flowing streams to drink from but little beyond a few unripe berries to eat. Now it was almost sunset, and they were tired and growling-stomach hungry.
It seemed they'd come far beyond where the boldest Molthuni had penetrated into this part of Nirmathas, right now-and past most of the Nirmathi warbands, too, into a backland area where there was still farming going on, and some measure of peaceful daily life. A countryside of small clearings and valleys amid the deep forest, linked by cart-tracks that still hosted creaking carts, and not just men stalking along with swords and bows looking to deal death.