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Authors: Isobelle Carmody

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BOOK: The Dreamtrails
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I let Zarak explain, and Noviny nodded. “I thought it must have been something like that, since you could not have used your Misfit powers.”

“What is going on here?” I asked. “Why was one of Malik’s men guarding that barricade?”

Noviny gave me an approving look. “Stovey Edensal, I imagine. And he is manning the barricade, because he is mind sensitive to the Talents exhibited by your people. Unlike the other men there, he will not wear a demon band, for his task is to identify any Misfit attempting to use Talents to enter the region. It is sheer luck that you did not attempt to enter his mind.”

“Demon bands!” I said, unable to believe I was hearing about them again so soon after Brydda had mentioned them. On the other hand, Malik and Vos had managed to get their hands on demon bands even before the rebellion. Indeed, a demon band had prevented us from realizing that Malik meant to betray us. No doubt more had been found in the abandoned Saithwold Herder cloister.

“Ye mun have noticed,” Khuria now said, “that ye were unable to farseek us here.”

“It is no secret that the Herders here and elsewhere in the
Land made a practice of laying tainted matter and studding the tops of the cloister walls with poisoned fragments, knowing it would inhibit Misfit Talents,” I said.

“That was done before the rebellion,” Khuria said grimly. “But Vos’s men continue doin’ it. They have poisoned the region’s entire perimeter as well as many fences within.”

“But to what end?” I asked. “Surely not so that Vos can be reelected chieftain.”

“No, although that is certainly what Vos believes,” Noviny said. “Let me tell my tale from the beginning. It will be quicker and more orderly.”

I stifled a feeling of impatience and nodded.

He continued. “When Vos’s men began to call at homesteads in and about Saithwold before wintertime, demanding that folk pledge their votes to him in the coming elections, I thought him a fool. Once Dardelan learned what was happening, the Council of Chieftains would deal with Vos. But Vos’s oppressions increased. People’s letters left Saithwold only if they were not critical of the chieftain or the situation here. Vos issued a decree forbidding citizens to travel without permission because of the danger of being waylaid by brigands. Then the blockade was set up, supposedly to prevent robbers or unsavory folk from entering our region. Little by little, we realized that no one secured permission to travel and that the blockade was as much to keep us in as others out.

“It was obvious to me that the other rebel leaders would soon realize what Vos was trying to do, but I could not see Dardelan moving against him until after the election. Therefore, I advised neighbors and friends who sought my advice simply to wait. All would be put right in time.

“But having assured everyone that all would be well, I became troubled, for the dogs told Khuria of men creeping
about my property. Khuria kept watch, and he saw Vos’s men laying tainted caches and overheard them saying it was being done on Malik’s advice. That made me very uneasy. Vos is foolish enough to suppose he could get away with forcing himself upon this region as its chieftain, but Malik would know his efforts were doomed to failure. So what was Malik up to?

“Then I heard a rumor that a second blockade had been set up on the other side of Saithwold—that is, on the road leading from the town to the cliffs. The new barricade was meant to prevent robbers creeping into the town from that direction, but I began to wonder if its true purpose might be to prevent anyone venturing near Malik’s main coastal camp. Then I decided that this might be the purpose of both barricades.”

“Are you trying to say that Malik does or does not want Vos to become chieftain of Saithwold?” I asked, trying to contain my impatience.

“I am saying that Vos’s chieftainship and all that he has done to ensure it is irrelevant to Malik except as a distraction,” Noviny answered.

There was a soft knock at the door, and Wenda and a servant entered, carrying trays laden with mugs, jugs of ale, bread and cheese, and pie. Noviny remained silent as his granddaughter and a red-faced lad laid a small table. When they had finished, Wenda assured me in her gentle voice that Darius was sleeping.

“Do you know what is wrong with him?” I asked.

She nodded. “His fever is the result of severe joint inflammation. But I am preparing some poultices that will ease him, and he will be more comfortable by tomorrow.”

“I trust Wenda,” Noviny said when the door closed behind his granddaughter. “But she does not know what I am about
to tell you. Nor have I dared to impart it to any of my friends or neighbors or even to trusted retainers.”

“Tell us,” I said simply.

Noviny nodded. “As a young man, I went on long rambles about the wild parts of Saithwold, and though I am no longer young, I know this region like the back of my own hand. I announced my intention to take a ramble toward a lake I know, not far from the Sawlney border. I set off at a deliberate old man’s pace, making sure any number of farm-workers and neighbors noticed me, until I reached a dense copse through which a stream flows. Within the copse, the stream cuts into a deep gorge. It appears utterly inaccessible, but I knew from my boyhood adventures that one could enter it and follow the stream to the other end of the gorge, where it emerges in thick wood not far from the coast.

“I am no longer the agile boy I once was, and it cost some effort to clamber into the gorge, but once inside, it was not hard to follow the stream. Some hours later, I came out of it and was immediately assailed by the scent of the waves. I knew well where I was, but I did not know the exact location of Malik’s camp. I very nearly walked into the midst of a group of Malik’s armsmen. Indeed, I would have if the wind had not brought a man’s voice to me. I froze, and it was just as well, for had I taken another step, I would have tumbled into a deep hollow where Malik’s men had made their camp.

“I retreated hastily and made my way carefully around the hollow until I could see into it. I was disappointed to find it was not the main camp but an outpost obviously set up to keep watch over the steps leading down to the beach below. There are three such ways up from the beach, which here is a mere strip of sand so narrow as to be invisible from above unless you are close to the cliff’s edge.

“I knew I had not the strength left to find my way to Malik’s proper camp, but I reasoned that if I could get close enough to these men, they might speak freely enough of their master’s affairs to confirm my suspicions. I walked up the coast until I could no longer see the camp, and I crawled along the edge of the cliff using the sea grass as cover until I was near the camp. I could go no further without crossing the stone steps that go down to the beach, but when I lay still, I could hear the conversation quite well.

“I do not know what made me look down. Maybe I wanted to be sure I was not too close before I settled myself properly to listen, but what I saw gave me so great a shock that I nearly cried out.”

“What did ye see?” Zarak whispered.

“A ship,” Noviny said grimly. “Anchored so close to the beach that it must have been in danger of running aground. Men were rowing a ship boat toward the beach, and a group of Herders got out when it was dragged up. Malik and some of his armsmen came across the sand to meet them. They must have been waiting at the base of the cliff, out of my sight. Several of the priests heaved wooden crates from the boat and set them on the sand, and then Malik and the priests held a long conversation. It was clear that this was not their first meeting, and eventually Malik’s men took up the crates and the Herders hustled some of the people who had come with Malik into the ship boat. I had not noticed before, but now I saw that they were not only men but women and children. And they were roped together.”

“Slaves?” Zarak hissed in disbelief.

Noviny nodded. “I believe that the poor wretches were farmers and their families and servants, taken by Malik’s men in the guise of brigands before their land and homesteads
were burned to make it seem they had been killed. I have no doubt they were given to Salamander. It was dreadful to lie there and know I could not help them. At last the ship boat was rowed away while Malik and his men carried the crates toward the steps. Fortunately, they were heavy, and Malik and his men were concentrating so hard on them that they angled straight across to the camp without even glancing in my direction.

“I dared not move as the afternoon wore on, and after Malik rode off with a couple of his captains, night fell and the armsmen lit a fire and cooked their supper. Still I lay there, hungry, thirsty, cramped. I was too stiff now to crawl backward, and I knew I must wait until it was dark enough to stand without being seen. The wind blew in from the sea, so I could hear little conversation, but I had heard enough talk between Malik and his men during that long afternoon to know that he had made a pact with the Herders to allow and aid a secret invasion.”

“An invasion!” I echoed incredulously.

Noviny looked grim. “Finally, it began to rain, which put out the cooking fires and drove the armsmen into their tents, giving me my opportunity. I got up and hobbled away, praying no one would look out and see me.

“It was a difficult trip back here. By the time I arrived home, I was fevered. For days I was ill, and Wenda and the servants feared that I had stumbled into a tainted trap on my ramble. It was fortunate they thought so, for this was the tale that traveled into town, which Vos would have heard and passed on to Malik.”

A faint smile crossed his crumpled features. “I daresay our chieftain hoped I would perish and was much disappointed when I did not. I have taken care since to seem permanently
weakened by what happened, to assuage his jealousy. In truth, the adventure did take something from me that I have not managed to regain.”

He sighed. “Since that time, my sole concern has been how to get word of the invasion to the Council of Chieftains.” He shook his head. “I could not leave Saithwold, nor send a message clear enough to be useful. Sevendays passed and then winter was upon us.

“In desperation, I confided in Khuria, thinking he could communicate with one of his beast friends and ask them to carry a message to Obernewtyn. But none of the beasts could safely cross the poisoned perimeter. At last he suggested scribing letters to his son that would not mention our plight at all but would be so uncharacteristic that his boy would seek him out.”

Noviny looked at Zarak. “We expected you to be turned back at the blockade. Khuria believed you would then return to Obernewtyn and seek the aid of your master, who would ride out with coercer-knights only to find they were unable to penetrate the region with their abilities. Again they would be turned back at the barricade, but they would have discovered that the armsmen guarding it wore demon bands. This would prompt the Master of Obernewtyn to ride to Sutrium and demand that Dardelan investigate what was happening in Saithwold. It was an unwieldy plan, but we could devise no other.”

“The last thing we expected was that you would manage to get through the blockade with a sick man an’ the guildmistress of the farseekers, and you would be trapped here, too,” Khuria said gruffly.

“We came knowing something was wrong and accepting the risk,” I said firmly, and I explained my encounter with the tavern woman. Noviny took the note she had scribed,
smoothed it out, and read the name and address upon it. Then he nodded.

“Lacent Ander,” he said. “I know her, and her husband, Rale. I will see this note is taken to her, but I fear that you will be unable to make good your promise to bring a letter out for her sister. Like Khuria, I must apologize for having dragged you into danger.”

“You are right in guessing that Dardelan will do nothing before the election,” I said, “but if he adopts Zarak’s suggestions about how to deal with Vos, he and a group of other chieftains and their armsmen and women will arrive in Saithwold without warning on the day of the voting, ostensibly to celebrate. There will be too many to forbid entry, and the minute Dardelan rides in, I will farseek him to let him know what Malik is about.”

“I’m afraid that will be too late,” Noviny said grimly. “You see, the invasion is to happen before the election. Malik spoke of the timing with great amusement.”

I mastered a surge of panic, realizing this was what had lain behind the premonition I had experienced in Rangorn. “All right. Then we have to do something ourselves to stop the invasion. You said there are steps down to a small beach? Are they narrow steps such as outside Arandelft, which will not allow two men to walk abreast?”

Noviny nodded. “Narrower and steeper, but there are three sets of steps along the Saithwold coastline, and I don’t know which the invaders will use.”

“Then we will keep watch over all of them. Surely every man and woman in the region will help, especially if you ask it.”

“Guildmistress, you do not realize how things are in Saithwold province these days,” Noviny said. “We live under constant surveillance by Vos’s men. Even movement from one
farm to another is regarded suspiciously unless it is a regular event. If a person visits another unexpectedly, he is like to be brought before Vos for questioning. And Vos reports everything to Malik, who has camps of his men right along the stretch of coastline from the road to Sador down to the end of Saithwold province, because his men are supposed to be guarding it. Even if we could muster a force without it being discovered, how are farm holders, however brave and strong, to deal with the likes of Malik’s men? For that is who they would have to fight before they could even begin to think of defending the beach steps.”

I scowled at the fire. “I am a fool. I had forgotten about Malik’s part in this.”

“He is not a man who can be overlooked,” Noviny said wearily. “You can be sure that Stovey Edensal will soon be riding to report that three people in a wagon escorted here by Brydda Llewellyn managed to enter the province.”

“One thing I dinna understand,” Zarak said. “What sort of invasion can priests mount? They are nowt warriors, after all. Will they command Malik’s force, or will they bring soldierguards from the west coast?”

BOOK: The Dreamtrails
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