The Dragons of Argonath (42 page)

Lessis understood better now who this enemy really was. After the ambush she had conferred with Ribela and then studied the lore of the First Aeon and the Celadon Aeon, long, long ago at the very dawn of the world.

This creature was a rebel from that very beginning. One of the seven great spirits sent to infuse the world with life, and the only one who had failed in his duty. He had long since succumbed to bottomless evil and had destroyed world after world, ravishing them in his insane quest for ultimate power. Billions had died as a result of his cruelties. If he succeeded here he would enslave the entire world.

Such tyranny would be unleashed as would make the very stones weep.

And with this enemy to face, Lessis had let her guard slip. What had she been thinking of? She cursed her stupidity. Retirement was all she was fit for! She should never have visited Lagdalen openly. She should have had the girl under full-time security cover, with Mirk on hand. Instead she'd allowed this terrible foe to make Lagdalen a perfect pawn.

Now she was walking into a well-laid trap, for Lagdalen was bait that the enemy knew Lessis could not resist.

By the Hand! How blind she'd been! Lessis tried to drive away the self-defeating guilt that threatened to overwhelm her at times. She must not succumb to it. If she had to, she would match wits with this Dominator of Worlds. She would make up for her mistake. She had slipped, but she would recover, she swore it.

Mirk rode ahead, straight into the stubbled field where the grain had been harvested. Wespern followed, his head bowed as he considered the trail. Lessis urged Felicity forward with the slightest nudge with her knees. It was getting dark, they'd have to camp in the wet forest for the night. It promised to be uncomfortable and cold. Making a fire would be inadvisable since Aubinan cavalry was abroad. Still, at the least they had food and remained mostly dry under their waxed ponchos and rain hats.

She ate in silence, absorbed in reflection. Mirk finished, rolled himself in a blanket, and dropped off quickly. Lessis noted Mirk's famous stolidity. He could sleep anywhere, at any time. She doubted that she would sleep for months.

A few hours ahead, Lagdalen and Eilsa were indeed on the southward trail tied to the pommels of their saddles, their horses lead by horsemen in black, mercenary troopers from Padmasa.

Well-paid killers all, they rode their own string of horses hard, determined to reach the lake before stopping for the night. At the lake there'd be warm beds and hot meals among friends. They would be in Aubinas after that. There'd be fresh horses, and they might make it to the Running Deer by evening if things went well. Well paid, they were, but they were also conscious of who they worked for. They had seen his methods. They knew that the penalty for failure would be more than unpleasant and that speed in the execution of their orders would be noticed too. The Lord was harsh in his rulings, but he was also fair and rewarded success.

Lagdalen looked back over her shoulder. Eilsa was riding with her head down; there was just her hat to see.

The Highland girl had taken it well so far; she seemed immune to discomfort at times. Up on Wattel Bek she had lived an outdoor life where the climate was changeable and often stormy. When it came to strength and endurance, Lagdalen was more worried about her own abilities. A year of soft living in the city had not been the right preparation for this.

She forced herself to try and think straight. The future, while it did not look bright still had to be thought about. She had had time to analyze the situation. There had to be some way to escape.

There were five of these men, and they had the look of seasoned fighters. She knew the type, for hundreds, perhaps thousands of them served the Masters in Padmasa. They were not likely to make many mistakes in handling two female prisoners.

She confronted the reality. She was bait, she knew that. Eilsa had been taken only because she was there. It was Lagdalen of the Tarcho they had wanted because it would draw Lessis. Lagdalen did not quail in her heart. The enemy was very terrible, but so was the Lady Lessis. No one knew this better than Lagdalen herself.

They broke through some trees and found a wide vista before them. They were atop a bluff and could see out across the lake. The wind had whipped up whitecaps on the water, and low clouds obscured the hills on the far side.

Aubinas.

The trail doubled back along the steep slope, and they saw the lights of the village stretched along the bottom of the bluff, facing the lake.

Another ten minutes brought them to the first houses, which were large and well built, with blue stone facings and large white shutters. The roads were paved, another sign of affluence. The men paused at the gates of a large, whitewashed building near the center of the place. Doors opened at once, and they were ushered within.

They left the horses to grooms in the stables. Lagdalen tried to be observant. How many other horses were there here? How good was the security?

They were hustled into the house and taken up a back staircase to a small room furnished with a pallet and a straw mattress. The gags and bonds were removed. Two men stepped back, the rest crowded out of the room.

"You will sleep here. Some food is being brought," said the leader.

"What is your name?" said Eilsa.

The man colored. "That does not matter. You not talk to me. Forbidden."

"Seems a shame," said Eilsa quite innocently.

The man frowned at her while a couple of old women in plain grey tunics entered with bowls of oatmeal laced with honey.

"Eat, then sleep!" said the man closing the door. The only light in the room came from an opening above the door, covered with a metal grille.

They looked at each other, then fell on the oatmeal, for they were very hungry.

"I could eat a lot more of that," said Eilsa with a sigh. "They don't seem to be concerned about what we'd like, do they?"

"Insensitive thugs, all of them."

"Do you know where we are?" said Eilsa.

"I'm pretty sure this is Lake Torenz. That means we're in Aubinas now."

"I was afraid of that." She sighed and then squared her shoulders. "What do you think is happening in the city?"

"Well, they're following us, you can be sure of that. Maybe even the Lady herself."

"I was afraid of that also. They meant to take you as a bait to trap her."

"I think so."

"And she might take up that bait?"

Lagdalen shrugged. "The Lady is a strange person, you understand that. She is hundreds of years old and steeped in witch lore, yet she is still human. In this situation that could be her undoing. What we've got to do is try and get some weapons. These men are good, they are practiced at keeping captives from escaping. We have to improve our chances in case we ever do get an opportunity."

"Sounds like a good plan."

"Doesn't seem too promising in here."

"True."

After a little while they found they were too tired for talk, so they laid their heads down on the straw and went to sleep. One thing they could be sure of, they would not be molested in the night. On the first night, while they were camped out in a barn, they heard the men discuss raping them. They were still bound at wrist and ankle. Lagdalen and Eilsa had steeled themselves to face the ordeal.

When the men showed themselves in the main part of the barn, nerving themselves for the attack, Lagdalen prayed for strength from the Mother. Then, quite suddenly, the men were shaken when a hot white bead of light flared in the air above their heads.

A heavy sibilant voice had spoken.

"This is forbidden. Do not speak of such things again."

The men looked at each other and went their separate ways. There was no further thought given to raping the young women.

In the woods outside Posila, Commander Urmin was allowing optimism to shine through the clouds of anxiety that had hung over him for days. The enemy's cavalry had become a persistent presence on his flanks, but on the bright side, the enemy's infantry remained shut up inside Posila, and Urmin had received reinforcements, mostly volunteer horsemen. Among them, Captain Hollein Kesepton had ridden in with a hundred men from Marneri and Bea, riding their own mounts. There had also been a forty-wagon supply train. That made a great difference to morale.

There was a boil-up going on right then. The cauldrons were astir, and the hungry mouths were being fed.

All in all, these were grounds for cautious optimism. Urmin had confided as much to Hollein Kesepton when he reported in, soaked and weary from a long period in the saddle shepherding a second supply train down the road.

"Hail, Captain Kesepton, glad to see you. How goes it out on the road?"

By the flickering light of a torch, Hollein could see the deep lines of worry and concern that had developed on Urmin's face. What a difference a few days of command could make!

"The wagons are stopped at Glevert, a hamlet twelve miles back. Captain Takise has his troopers screening them off. The Aubinans are close, but we have led them a merry dance today, and they still don't know exactly where the wagons are."

"Well done, excellent work. We must hold on for just a few more days, and then I think the situation will change. I have word of further reinforcements, approaching from the north."

Kesepton already knew that General Tregor was approaching from that direction with a few hundred more men. That would indeed improve their situation, heavily outnumbered as they were and stretched thin in their positions outside Posila. If the enemy tried, he might bludgeon them off the field simply by force of numbers. Tregor's reinforcements were desperately needed. Still, it was only a few hundred men—not enough to end the crisis. That would not happen until the Legion of the Red Rose arrived in a few weeks. After that the picture would change quickly and positively.

"I have a suggestion, sir. Might we try running the wagons in tonight? The road is straight and well paved. With minimal light we could lead the wagons all the way here."

"Twelve miles in the dark?"

"You have forty teams of oxen already here that came with the first wagon train. Let me take those back with me. We'll add them to the oxen we already have. Together they should have those wagons here by dawn or soon after."

"That sounds too optimistic."

"We can do it, I'm sure. The train made very good progress today, all on nice flat roads. Thanks be given for the flat plains of Lucule. The oxen at Glevert are feeding now, but they can be whipped up again in a few hours. We'll start them rolling and perform the changeover when we meet up with them on the road. Give me twelve hours for the entire thing."

Urmin frowned for a long moment as he weighed the various risks.

"That puts all our oxen at risk." He mused a moment more and then sighed. "But the Aubinans could bring us to battle for the wagons tomorrow, and I cannot risk pulling out from my positions here. They're well defensible against any sorties from Posila, but if we were pulled away from them to protect the wagons, then this line might be attacked and overwhelmed."

He struck his palm with his fist.

"So, all in all, I think it might be better to risk our oxen rather than risk fighting for the wagons tomorrow."

Kesepton saluted crisply.

"Sir. We can leave the Aubinans an empty road to attack tomorrow."

"And we're going to need those supplies. Dragons have to eat, so do men and horses, even oxen. Plus we're about to be reinforced, and those men will be hungry. Go with the Mother's Grace around you and bring me back those wagons."

"Sir, may I take Hunzutter's troop with me to cover the wagons?"

Urmin pressed his hands together and stroked his chin. Of course they would need some covering cavalry, just in case an Aubinan patrol ran into them. However, without Hunzutter, he would be down to just fifty horsemen at Posila. Unfortunately he couldn't keep Hunzutter and have the oxen adequately protected.

"Well, damn it. In for a penny, in for a silver crown," he rasped. "Take Hunzutter, Captain, but be sure to get those wagons here. I don't want to have to face General Tregor without supplies if you don't."

"Yes, sir."

Kesepton rode away, and Urmin looked back to the map on the lectern. The Aubinan forces were new, they could not respond with the same efficiency as legion troops. During the day Caleb Neth's cavalry force had been mixed up and scattered by the efforts of Kesepton and the other Marneri captains. Caleb Neth would have as a priority the need to hold his forces together. He would be desperately reconcentrating, and at night, under clouds and in the wet woods, it would be a slow task. With luck, that would give Kesepton's night moves the room they would need. It was a finely tuned gamble, but Urmin was convinced that it was better to risk this than to risk facing two fronts the next day with insufficient forces to fight on even one.

The question was, when would General Tregor put in an appearance? Urmin was looking forward to his arrival. Then he could hand over the crushing burden of his responsibility and go back to taking orders rather than giving them. The fear of making a mistake at this level of command was awful. One slip and he could lose everything and put the city itself at risk.

Hurry on, General, he thought, and hurry on Captain Kesepton. The world hangs in the balance, and I can only handle this strain for a little while longer.

In the woods not far from Urmin's command post, the 109th were resting up under the wet trees. They were full of stirabout and akh, which was good, but they were feeling the damp after daylong rain that was bad. Dragons didn't mind being wet all day, but they were finicky about being dry when they slept. Dragonboys were working hard at spreading ground sheets to make tents of a sort, but it was hard to keep things dry in the conditions, and everything was faintly damp if it wasn't already wet through.

A cold, miserable night was in prospect.

When shelters were finished, they gathered around Cuzo to report. He checked off the dragons. All were down and either asleep or heading that way. All were fed, and all had functioning equipment.