Diplomats and Fugitives (The Emperor's Edge Book 9) (34 page)

She pushed that thought aside and focused on the dish. Despite the dim lighting, the physical attributes of the specimen grew clear in her mind. It was a bark shaving that had been treated with several strains of a fungus. There was microscopic evidence of their attempt to colonize the wood, but the bark had proven unpalatable to the fungus.

“What do you want me to do?” Ashara asked.

“Just get a sense for that, then touch this one too.” Mahliki tapped the other dish.

There wasn’t any wood inside of it, just a fungus sample, one in distress, Ashara gradually sensed. It had been treated with something and was losing a battle.

“It’s dying—that’s our blight fungus?”

“Yes,” Mahliki said. “With the help of the wise woman, Sharlamar, I was able to isolate several bacteria that live within the bark of the resistant oak species. One of them seems to be a competitor to the fungus, while having a symbiotic relationship with the tree. I’m trying to figure out which one is responsible. I’d prefer to tinker with nature as little as possible here. But once I know, I can make a compound that the Mangdorians can use to inoculate the rest of the trees.”

“Show me the choices,” Ashara said after studying the dying fungus for several moments, seeing with her mind what she never could have seen with her eyes.

Mahliki produced four capped vials, laying them on the ground. Ashara touched each one with her hand and her mind. She recognized the offender immediately and opened her mouth to share her findings, but hesitated before speaking. It occurred to her that she was being given the opportunity Shukura had hoped she would get, to sabotage the project.

She shook her head. The personal consequences might be difficult to accept, but she would not be a part of destroying the forests, no matter whose forests they were. If her people wanted to skulk about and steal resources from another country, they could do it without her help.

Ashara tapped the middle vial. “That’s it.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. I recognize the bacterium from one of my potions. It’s beneficial for humans too.”

“Potions?” Mahliki sounded amused.

“Yes, I… It’s a long story.”

“You can tell me on the way back.” Mahliki grabbed her samples, hopped to her feet, and waved. She took the torch and jogged back into the village.

As Ashara settled back against the boulder, the sense of being watched came over her. With the torch gone, she was alone in the darkness. Or she
had
been alone.

She rose to her feet, listening for the sound of someone approaching and testing the air with her nose. She didn’t hear anything, nor did she think she smelled anything, but she turned to face the tall grass behind her boulder. It was too dark to pick out anyone who might be back there, but she felt confident that her spy was in that direction. More than that, she believed she had more than one spy.

She was about to reach out with the same senses she had used on the sample dishes, but someone spoke first.

“You have good senses, hunter,” a man said in accented Kendorian. His voice was cool. It was an observation, not a compliment.

Ashara did not reach for her bow, but she made sure it and her quiver were where she had rested them, both within reach. “What do you want?
All
of you?”

A couple of people stirred, and grass rustled.

“Can you put arrows in people as easily as you do animals?” the speaker asked.

All she could assume was that this was one of the men who had seen Ashara and Mahliki fighting the grimbal. One of the men who had been carrying spears and had wanted to push her off the ledge. That knowledge did not make her feel any more comfortable. Still, she offered her brave, unintimidated face and responded in a similar manner.

“With people, it’s easier. Thin hides, no fur. Humans are fragile. We die more easily than most animals.”

Someone mumbled something in Mangdorian. It didn’t sound complimentary.

“We want to get rid of your people,” the original speaker said.

He was at least three feet to the side of the other man. Ashara believed there were four or five more out there who hadn’t yet made a noise. She sensed them even if she did not see them or hear them.

“Starting with me?” she asked, flexing her hand, thinking of grabbing her bow and ducking behind the boulder.

“Are you here as a spy?”

She should have blurted an indignant no and almost did, but Shukura’s face popped into her mind, along with the memory of his orders to be a spy and a saboteur.

“Are you here to find out where we live and deliver that information back to your people?” The man had stepped forward, even if he hadn’t made a sound. The Mangdorians might not be trained combatants, but being capable hunters made them dangerous, should they ever decide to give up their religion. And this man sounded like he was willing to do just that.

“No.” That question Ashara could answer honestly, without hesitation.

“Then why are you here?”

“I’m working with the Turgonians.” Not sure that would endear her to them any more than being Kendorian, she added, “I’m an outcast among my people. I can never go home. There wouldn’t be any point in me spying on you for Kendor. They wouldn’t believe anything I said.” Those words also came out as a truth, perhaps because she had realized she couldn’t ever report in to Shukura, unless it was to tell him that she had chosen to disobey him. That wouldn’t be healthy, and he might try to do something to her children as a punishment. It would be better simply to never return. Though where that left her, she didn’t know. All of her plans had revolved around passing those classes and learning enough to start her business and become a citizen.

“An outcast?” the man asked softly.

“An outcast who is not welcome in her country anymore, yes.” Ashara didn’t explain further. She wasn’t even sure why she had said that much, not when she didn’t know who she was talking to.

“As we would be if we make this choice.” The man sighed.

“Choice? To kill my—the Kendorians?” In case they were feeling violent, she decided it would be good to distance herself from the people in that canyon.

“Yes. We cannot look in the other direction, as the chiefs say to do.” A soft rubbing sound came from him, almost a creaking. Ashara wasn’t sure what it was, but thought he might have a spear that he was clenching and unclenching. “They said that God will protect us and that we must trust in him. I—we—want to believe that, but what happens if he simply lets the Kendorians run all over our land and destroy all that we love and all that we need to survive? Where will we go? There is no land left that hasn’t been claimed. The Turgonians took it all.”

Such bitterness filled his voice that Ashara wondered if Mahliki would be safe if he came across her in the dark in the village. Ashara could not blame him for his hatred—who didn’t loathe the Turgonians? They had conquered so many over the centuries, stolen so much. They hadn’t even come from this continent originally. Now, they were a republic instead of an empire, and they wanted peace with their neighbors, but it was hard to forget all that had gone before. They had so much when Kendor had so little. And Mangdoria too.

“I can’t tell you what to do,” Ashara said, even though a part of her wanted to say to trust in his people and his faith and stay away from that canyon. With their small numbers, they were sure to be eviscerated by the hardened Kendorian soldiers. But she could understand their anger and bitterness. “I will tell you that I wouldn’t advise making this choice for any of you who have children or who have a deeply emotional attachment to your people, because you probably won’t be able to go home again.”

“Your words are wise.” Even though the Mangdorian had mellowed toward her since she had proclaimed herself an outcast, the compliment took her by surprise. “But for some of us,” he went on, “it is
because
we have children that we must do this.”

“Well, when Mahliki is done, you can come back with us,” Ashara found herself saying. “When we left Basilard—Leyelchek—he was trying to come up with a non-violent solution to getting rid of the invaders. The sort of trickery that it sounds like your people appreciate.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t know if he’ll succeed, but you may want to talk to him before proclaiming war. Unless you have a lot more people standing in the weeds over there than I think, you wouldn’t have much success simply attacking the Kendorians.”

That was doubly true if all they had ever battled were animals. Humans might be frailer, but they were far more dangerous than animals, too, even grimbals.

“This is rye grass.”

Ashara frowned. “Pardon?”

“There is no word for weed in Mangdorian,” he said dryly, the first hint of humor in his voice. “We have names for all plants, and we have a saying that there is no such thing as an undesirable plant, only one whose desirability has yet to be established. I thought even a Kendorian hunter would have a similar philosophy.”

Ashara’s cheeks warmed at the unexpected source of criticism, even if he didn’t truly sound disappointed in her. “It’s dark. I can’t tell what you’re standing in. Go talk to your friends. See if you really want to do this. And if you do, you’d better recruit everybody who thinks as you do. The Kendorians brought a lot of people.”

“I understand.”

She did not hear them leave, but after a few moments, she knew she was alone. With their skill at moving silently through the forest, they could be assassins. Since their numbers were so few, that would make more sense than trying to raise an army to confront the Kendorians openly, but she doubted they could turn from peaceful men into throat slitters in a day. More likely, they would all go fall upon her people’s swords and accomplish nothing.

Ashara looked toward the stars, wondering if she should have tried harder to dissuade them.

Chapter 14

Not many people could sneak up on Basilard, even at night and even when he was running to escape irate Kendorians, so he was surprised when someone stepped out of the shadows of a bush and gripped his arm. He whirled as he yanked out a dagger.

“It’s me,” Sicarius said at the same time as he caught Basilard’s wrist, as if it were full daylight and he had no trouble seeing the attack.

Basilard relaxed as soon as he recognized the voice, then admitted that Sicarius might have been right about the need for more training.

“Amaranthe and Maldynado ran in the other direction,” Sicarius said. “Downstream and away from the dam. Most likely they wished to lead the Kendorians away from our trap.”

Basilard winced. As he had been running, he had wondered if he should have done that. But there had not been any place to climb the walls and choose a different route, and racing back through the camp would not have made sense.

“The Kendorians were too surprised and fragmented to follow them, or
you
.” Sicarius’s gaze was hard; somehow, Basilard could tell that even in the dark. “But they’ll form search parties soon.”

They could avoid search parties—this was
his
homeland, after all, and he knew it well—but there was no point in signing his thoughts. Sicarius had keen eyes, but even he could not see in the dark.

“This way,” Sicarius said and led the way up the trail following the river.

Basilard followed without commenting. He glanced toward the dark brush as they ran, wondering what had happened to the other Mangdorians and also to the man Maldynado had half-buried in the rocks. He did not see sign of either. The night was quiet with any wildlife in the canyon hunkering down in the aftermath of the explosion.

The dim starlight did not keep Basilard from spotting the silhouette of the dam up ahead, a dam that now stretched most of the way across the river. A dragging noise reached his ears before he saw Corporal Jomrik. Basilard did not know what Sicarius had said to convince the man that midnight dam-building was required, but Jomrik was working diligently.

Sicarius disappeared for a moment, then returned, lighting a lantern with a rasp of a match. He kept the flame low and tucked it between two bushes so it would not be visible for far. He hunkered down next to it and pointed for Basilard to do the same.

“What happened?” he asked. “The dam is not ready to be released. We’re still building it up and capturing water. Also, we need to design a trigger, so it can be released on command. We could break it apart manually, but little water has built up now. It might do some damage, but it would not be as monumental as if we waited until tomorrow.”

The major communicated with Ambassador Shukura
, Basilard signed.
Shukura informed her that the—

Sicarius dropped his hand, cutting out the lantern. “Someone approaches,” he breathed. “From downriver. Someone with power. Did you see the shaman when you were down there?”

Basilard shook his head. He had not sensed anything and could not hear anyone approaching, but he did not question that Sicarius did. Concern tightened his chest, as he remembered the young Mangdorian priest. Could that be who Sicarius had sensed? In the dark, he might not be able to tell the difference between a Mangdorian and a Kendorian, and Basilard had not gotten a chance to tell him about the young men they had found on the way downstream. He reached out, as if he might explain himself by groping without light, but Sicarius had already backed away, perhaps to warn Jomrik.

Basilard dropped his head in frustration, wishing he could simply voice his concerns. He would have to hope that his comrade wouldn’t kill a man for no reason, but he worried that Sicarius, knowing how dangerous practitioners could be, might strike before asking questions.

A thud came from somewhere upriver. Basilard frowned in that direction. Jomrik? No, he had been closer than that. This noise had come from much farther away, the sound of a heavy rock falling in the distance. Basilard pictured the canyon in his mind. A couple of miles upriver, the walls weren’t as high, and an ancient trail led down from the top. He and the others had come down that way, following the tracks from the Kendorian supply wagons. He wondered if Amaranthe and Maldynado had found a way to circle around. It seemed too soon to expect them.