Dreams of Steel

Chapter Thirteen

Swan glanced at Blade. The black man’s attitude toward Smoke had grown from disdain into contempt. The wizard had no more spine than a worm. He shook like a leaf.

Cordy said, “That’s her.”

Swan nodded. He grinned but kept his thoughts to himself. “She’s putting something together. That gang is more organized than any I’ve seen down here.”

They backed off the knoll from which they’d been watching the camp. Blade said, “We going to drop in?” He had hold of the wizard’s sleeve like he expected the runt to run.

“Not yet. I want to circle around, check it out down south. Shouldn’t be that far to where they hit the Shadowmasters’ men. I want to see the place. If we can find it.”

Cordy asked, “Think they know we’re here?”

“What?” The idea startled Swan.

“You said they’re organized. Nobody ever accused the Lady of not being efficient. She should have pickets out.”

Swan thought. No one had entered or left the camp, but Mather had a point. If they wanted to remain unnoticed they’d better move on. “You’re right. Let’s go. Blade, you were down here before. Know how to cross that creek somewhere that’s not too far out of the way?”

Blade nodded. In those desperate days before the Black Company picked up the reins he’d led guerrillas behind the Shadowmasters’ main forces.

“Lead on. Smoke, old buddy, I wish I could get a peek inside your head. I never seen anybody so ready to drizzle down his leg.”

The wizard said nothing.

Blade found a game ford three miles east of the south road, led the way through woods narrower than Swan expected. When they reached the southern side, Blade said, “Road’s two miles that way.”

“I figured.” The sky was dark with buzzards. “That’s where we’ll find our dead men.”

That was the place.

The air was still. The stench hung like a poisonous miasma. Neither Swan nor Mather had a stomach strong enough to let them take a close look. Blade, though, seemed to have no sense of smell.

He returned. Swan said, “You look green around the gills.”

“Not much but bones left. Been a while. Two hundred, three hundred men. Hard to tell now. Animals been at them. One thing. No heads.”

“Eh?”

“No heads. Somebody cut them off.”

Smoke moaned, then chucked his breakfast. His mount shied.

“No heads?” Swan asked. “I don’t get it.”

Mather said, “I’ve got an idea. Come on.” He rode south, toward where crows circled, dipped, and squabbled.

They found the heads.

Blade asked, “Want to get a count?” He chuckled.

“No. Let’s drop in on our friends.”

Smoke made protesting noises.

Cordy asked, “You still hot to trot with your proud beauty?”

Swan couldn’t think of a flip answer. “Maybe I’m starting to see Smoke’s viewpoint. Don’t let me get on her bad side.”

Blade said, “Only a mile to their camp straight up the road.”

Swan snorted. “We’ll go around, thank you.”

After they crossed the game ford, Mather suggested, “Suppose we go up the road a ways and come down like we don’t know nothing about back there? See what they say if they think we just rode in.”

“Stop whining, Smoke,” Swan said. “Go with it. You got no choice. You’re right, Cordy. It’ll give us a clue if she’s going to play games.”

They rode north till they were behind a rise, turned west to the road, then turned south. They were almost back to the crest when Mather, in the lead, yelled, “Yo! Lookout!”