“Yes, Milord?” Horsemaster said as he drew rein beside Cassan and Stoneblade and swung down from the saddle himself.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Cassan growled.
“Milord?” It was Stoneblade this time, and his eyes were hooded but thoughtful as he gazed at his baron.
“All we had to go on when we first realized an organized band of horsemen was crossing the Riding was the messenger from Nachfalas,” Cassan replied. He saw no reason to confuse the issue by mentioning that the messenger who’d brought word of the “unknown mercenary company” which had filtered through Nachfalas had been sent on his own orders. “I’d have been a lot happier if we’d had enough warning to actually intercept them south of Toramos, but there’s no point crying over spilt milk, and at least our scouts cut their trail while it was still reasonably fresh. Still, all we’ve had since then were tracks-tracks where there shouldn’t have been any, from people who sure as hell hadn’t asked permission to trespass on our lands. But now-” He shrugged. “Do you realize where these people-whoever they are-seem to be headed?”
“Into the West Riding, Milord,” Horsemaster said a bit delicately, and it was obvious from their expressions that neither Horsemaster nor Stoneblade had been especially enthusiastic about the notion of crossing the border into the riding of their baron’s most bitter enemy.
Which they’d done late that morning…with no more permission than the mysterious riders they were pursuing. Neither man was familiar with the lay of the land in Tellian Bowmaster’s riding, but the border markers had been clear to see even before they crossed the high road midway between Magdalas and the Spear River, and they felt far from home and dangerously exposed. The only good news, as far as they were concerned, was that whoever they were following had made a point of avoiding villages and towns, picking a route across the vast, empty Wind Plain where no human eye would note their passing. It was one more sign they were up to no good, but Cassan’s captains were clearly happy to be avoiding those watchful eyes in their wake.
“West Riding!” Cassan spat on the ground. “If it was only the West Riding, I’d be overjoyed to let that bastard Tellian worry about it! He’d probably try to lay responsibility for whatever they’re up to on me, of course, but I could live with that. Unfortunately, I think I know where in the West Riding they’re headed.” Both men looked at him, and he coughed out a harsh laugh. “Chergor,” he told them. “They’re headed for Tellian’s hunting lodge at Chergor…and the King.”
The armsmen stiffened abruptly, eyes wide. They stared at him for a moment, then, in unison, shared a quick glance before they turned back to their liege.
“Are you certain, Milord?” Stoneblade asked urgently.
“Certain? How could any man be certain about something like this?” Cassan shot back. “But I’ve been to Chergor. I recognize the terrain, and these bastards we’re following are headed directly towards it, allowing for staying out of sight of the locals. What else could pull a force this size together from out-Kingdom and then send it almost five hundred leagues from Nachfalas? It’s awfully small for an invasion force, now isn’t it? But King Markhos won’t have more than two or three score armsmen with him, and these bastards have to have at least twice that many men!”
“Milord, if you’re right-and I’m afraid you are,” Stoneblade said, “we must send a courier ahead immediately! And another to Sothofalas and”-the senior captain braced himself visibly-“to Hill Guard.”
“Do you know the shortest route to Chergor from here?” Cassan challenged. “I don’t, and I’ve been there before!” He shook his head. “No, you’re right about sending a messenger to the capital, but even if our horses were fresh enough to send a courier around them, I couldn’t give him the directions he’d need to even find the lodge, far less beat them to it. Our only real hope is to push the pace as hard as we can, make up as much distance as possible. We may be able to catch them short of Chergor, and if we can’t, they’ll be our surest guide to it. Even if we don’t catch them before they reach it, we can hope to arrive close on their heels.”
Stoneblade’s expression was as unhappy as it was worried, but there was no disputing Cassan’s logic. Not about Chergor, at any rate. The older armsman opened his mouth, but before he could find the proper way to frame the suggestion, Cassan cut him off, harshly.
“As for sending word to Hill Guard, it couldn’t possibly get there in time to do any good. We’re far closer to Chergor than Balthar. Besides,” his voice turned even harsher, “I have an ugly suspicion about just how the King comes to be spending his vacation in such a conveniently isolated spot-in the West Riding — when a band of assassins ‘just happens’ to have set out to attack him.”
Both captains’ eyes widened. It was clear both of them thought their baron’s bitter enmity toward Baron Tellian was behind his suspicions, but neither was prepared to argue the point. Especially since it would take at least three times as long for any courier just to reach Balthar-or Sothofalas, for that matter-as it would take them to reach Chergor.
“Of course, Milord,” Stoneblade said after a moment.
“I know the horses all need this rest,” Cassan continued, “but we’re going to have to push on harder as soon as it’s over. I think it would be wise for you to go have a word with all of our troop leaders, Garman. Tell them what I think is happening here so they understand how vital it is that we move as quickly as possible from here on out.”
“Of course, Milord!”
Stoneblade slapped his breastplate in salute and headed off purposefully, his expression grim. Horsemaster started to follow him, but Cassan gripped the younger armsman’s elbow before he could.
“Milord?”
“A word more, Kalanndros,” the baron said quietly. The captain cocked his head slightly, eyebrows rising, and Cassan smiled grimly. “There’s another reason I didn’t want to send a courier to Balthar,” he said in that same quiet tone. “My agents in Nachfalas actually gave me a little more information than I was willing to share with you and Garman…until I realized where they’re headed, at least. Now I think you need to know it.”
He paused, waiting.
“What sort of…information, Milord?” Horsemaster asked finally.
“Information suggesting these people were met by one of Baron Tellian’s spies,” Cassan said flatly. “To be honest, that’s the reason I pulled this many men together before I went looking for them in the first place. I was afraid they were up to some mischief in the South Riding, something Tellian could deny responsibility for because the men who carried it out it had obviously come from out-kingdom. But now that I’ve realized where they’re really headed, I have to wonder if there wasn’t a much darker reason than I’d suspected for why they met with one of his agents before setting out.”
Horsemaster’s expression was suddenly intensely wary, and Cassan smiled without a trace of humor.
“If this is an assassination attempt and Tellian’s behind it, there’s only one reason he would have recruited them from outside the Kingdom and had them enter the Wind Plain at Nachfalas and come at Chergor across my lands. He’s not just setting up a way to hide his hand-he’s obviously hoping to saddle me with responsibility for whatever they’re about to do. And if he’s been as clever about it as he usually is, they probably truly believe I’m the one who hired them!”
Horsemaster nodded slowly, his eyes narrow, and Cassan shrugged.
“Obviously, I don’t have any sort of proof he’s the one who set this all up. For that matter, I might even be wrong to think he is.” The concession was perfunctory at best, Horsemaster noted. “The gods know this canal business offers enough of a threat to the interests of the Spearmen and the Purple Lords for them to want to wreck it even more badly than I do! But the point is that if it is Tellian, and if whoever he used as his agent hired them in my name, the consequences could be…serious.”