Riverwind

Chapter Nine

Karn, Riverwind and the Ruby Division reached the south wall many hours later. As Karn had said, the cave wall was honeycombed with holes and tunnels, many of which had been carved out of the limestone by early Hestites and used as homes. The soldiers went in by twos and threes, rooting through the rubbish collected at the mouth of the caves, searching for signs of recent habitation. They found none.

“They could be deeper in the wall,” Karn mused. One of his subordinates said timidly that it did not seem likely. “Oh? Why so?” Karn asked.

The filthy, mud-coated Hestite replied, “Water has trickled down through the walls, my captain. In most of the caves a foot of water has collected at the back. There's nothing else in them but mud and broken pottery.”

Karn sat on a round boulder and said, “Well, keep looking. The scum are likely to be in the last place you think to search.” The weary soldier saluted and returned to the hunt.

“Shall I go, too?” Riverwind asked.

“No, I don't want you to get wedged in some tight spot,” Karn answered absently. “Those holes weren't made by giants.”

All through the day Karn had been receiving messages from Li El in the city. Messages from the other divisions of the Host also arrived, brought by runners. While his troops ransacked the south wall caves, runners from Emerald Division and Garnet Division arrived from the mining district, with news that no Blue Sky rebels had been found. Karn scratched his hollow cheek and pondered what to do next. The queen's grand design was bearing little fruit so far.

“If the Diamonds find no sign of the enemy in the orchards, we'll go back to Vartoom,” Karn said. “Her Highness will have to employ her Art once more to find signs of them.”

They waited for a runner from the Diamonds to arrive. None did. Riverwind stood off to one side, his mind wrapped in visions the queen conjured for him. Li El exploited all of his emotions: his love for Goldmoon, his fear and distrust of Loreman and Arrowthorn, his guilty exultation over the death of Hollow-sky. His mind was aboil as he relived these events over and over. Outwardly he looked calm, even somnolent. Li El had insisted on fitting him with what bits of Hestite armor would fit him. Greaves and vam-braces were laced to his arms and legs. A gorget protected his neck, and an open helmet covered his head. It was Hest's own helmet, though on Riverwind it fit like a skullcap.

The plainsman longed to be back with Goldmoon. Danger was all around them. Loreman and his followers would come armed, not with sabers or bows, but with common rocks. Heretics were stoned. Heretics such as Riverwind and his beloved.

Karn idly chewed a dry biscuit. His troops were slowly filtering back to the plain, having examined every dirty hole in the wall. Soon some two hundred and fifty warriors were sprawled among the mossy stones.

Vartoom was a pale blue shadow in the floating veil of smoke. Karn squinted at the outline of the city. Should he give the order to return? Should he present himself to Li El empty-handed? She would not be pleased. Perhaps he could blame it on the giant…

A commotion drew Karn out of his musings and roused Riverwind, too. Two Hestites were carrying a limp body over to a soft patch of moss. Karn leaped to his feet. River-wind followed him.

“What is it?” the plainsman asked dully.

“Stand back, you're blocking the light,” Karn snapped. He loosened the strap on the warrior's helmet and pulled it off. The wounded Hestite's face was red and swollen, particularly his eyes and nose. Karn knew him by the marking on his breastplate. He was with the Diamond Division.

“What happened?” Karn demanded of the Diamond.

“Ambush,” the soldier said through inflamed lips. “Our captain-killed. A choking fog spread over the company. We couldn't see. The warriors-suffocated, sneezing. The division was-wiped out,” he gasped.

Karn sank back on his haunches. “Wiped out? Wiped out?” He grasped the wounded man by the arms and hauled him to his feet. “Wiped out!” he shouted in the elf's face.

“My captain, look!” said another Hestite. He pointed to the wounded Diamond's back. The light plate armor had a hole in it. The wounded man bled copiously. The jagged stump of whatever had made the hole protruded.

“By our lady,” Karn breathed. “What in Hest's name is that?”

“Arrow,” Riverwind said. “Broken off.”

The warriors looked at him without comprehension. “What is 'arrow'?” Karn asked desperately.

Riverwind regarded him in puzzlement, but went on to explain what an arrow was, and how it was shot.

“Do the rebels have such weapons?” asked one of Karn's soldiers. Others took up the question and its implications. Karn let the wounded warrior go and jumped to his feet.

“I cannot fight an enemy who hurls darts at us from far away! Her Highness must be told of this at once! Trumpeter-where's that damned trumpeter? Sound the muster call. Call Garnet and Emerald back to us.”

A slender young elf climbed atop a large boulder and put a brass cornet to his lips. The shrill notes echoed and reechoed across the vast cavern. A few moments later, horns from the other two divisions responded.

Riverwind knelt by the forgotten, wounded soldier. He was dead. The plainsman closed the elf's eyes and his fingers came away stained with black powder. He touched his tongue to the stain to clean it away. His tongue burned. Pepper. His dark brows drew together in a frown. That did not make sense.

“You!” Karn said, poking Riverwind's shoulder from behind. “Pick him up and carry him.” Riverwind scooped up the dead warrior easily in his arms. The Rubies milled around, worried and uncertain. Karn bullied them into formation, and they set out directly for Vartoom. They hadn't gone two miles before the Emerald Division appeared, coming toward them through a grove of stunted apple trees. The warriors staggered as they ran. Some had lost their weapons. Many clutched their faces in their hands and sobbed loudly.

Karn halted his soldiers. A corporal from the Emeralds lurched up to him and sagged to the ground at Karn's feet.

“My captain,” the elf gasped. “I beg to report the Emerald Division routed!”

Blood suffused Karn's face. “Routed by whom?” he screamed.

“Sir-Captain-they wore the arms of our Diamond Division!”

“That's impossible. The Diamonds were attacked and defeated a few hours ago,” Karn said.

“There were hundreds and hundreds,” the elf cried. “Some were just diggers. Others wore warrior's plate and carried swords. And-there was a wagon-”

“Wagon? What wagon?”

“Yes, sir. It was pushed by diggers with masks over their faces. Smoke came out of a pipe on the wagon, smoke that blinded us and made us weep and sneeze.”

Karn drew his sword and scanned the orchard. “How long ago was this?”

“Not long, my captain. Perhaps an hour or less.”

Riverwind laid the slain Diamond warrior down and came to Karn's side. He'd heard what the elves had said.

“Shall we pursue these agents of Loreman?” he asked.

“Pursue?” Karn was quickly losing what little composure he had. “We'd better prepare to defend ourselves!”

“They won't attack us. Not here,” the plainsman said.

“How do you know?” Karn's body quivered with rage and his face was nearly purple.

“They ambushed two bands of warriors. They'll not attack a fully warned group in the open,” he said. “Loreman would more likely sneak around us and head for the village.” This idea hit him with belated force. “Goldmoon! She will need us!”

“What are you raving about? Vartoom is still defended by the Host.” Karn took several deep breaths. The tremors in his limbs stilled and his color began to return to normal. “I have decided what we will do. The Emerald warriors can join us. We'll skirt the orchard and try to make contact with the Garnet Division.”

“And then?” asked the Emerald corporal, still sniffling.

“Then-then I will consider what to do next,” Karn said stiffly.

About a hundred soldiers of the Emerald Division filled in the ranks of Karn's troops. The Hestites marched on, keeping the orchard on their left and the city on their right. Fear was infecting the rank and file, fear made worse as the surviving Emeralds told their story to their brothers in Ruby.

“The choking clouds!”

“Javelins raining from the air-”

“Hundreds of armed diggers, and they weren't afraid of us!” And that, more than anything, terrified the warriors.

Catchflea surveyed the mass of prisoners taken by the Blue Sky People in their first two attacks. Almost three hundred warriors knelt in a close circle, stripped of arms and armor, guarded by grinning diggers. The pepper fog had been successful far beyond the old soothsayer's dreams. Two diggers, one a former miller, the other an expert forge-maker, contrived a bellowslike device that sprayed the pepper at the enemy. Mounted on a wagon, the pepper fog machine had ensured their amazing early victories.

The bows, however, were less successful. True, the Blue Sky's first apprentice archers had hit several of the Diamond warriors in the first attack, but before the fight was over, all but one of the bows was broken. In their excitement, the diggers used their valuable bows as clubs, splintering them against the warriors' armor.

Mors was in a buoyant mood. Di An led him to the place where the warriors were being held. Vvelz followed silently behind the blind elf.

“How do they look?” Mors asked.

“They weep,” Catchflea replied. “For shame and the pepper in their eyes, yes.”

“You proved your worth, old giant,” Mors said. He clapped Catchflea on the back. “Just think what we'll accomplish together in the future.” Catchflea didn't like the sound of that. Seeing the red-faced, weeping warriors made him sad. And the dead from both sides haunted him. He had been with the Blue Sky People only five days. What indeed would be the result if he continued to aid Mors? He thought of Riverwind and wondered where the tall man was.

Vvelz was unhappy, too. Formerly Mors's most important advisor, he now found himself shunted in favor of Catchflea. Mors had begun to ask the old man's advice on matters other than those concerning the surface world-like how to govern Vartoom once Li El was deposed. Catchflea tried to shy away from the subject, since Li El was far from finished, but Mors insisted, asking about the Que-Shu political system. Catchflea outlined his people's method of electing a chief.

“A strange doctrine,” said Mors. “I can understand the part about choosing a brave and resourceful warrior to lead you, but what is that about marrying the previous chieftain's daughter? What has that to do with finding a strong ruler?”

“We believe it important to have a chief who is close to the gods,” Catchflea said. “Our chieftain's daughter is the spiritual leader of our people-our priestess.”

“Are your priestesses skilled in magic?” asked Vvelz.

“Almost never.”

The sorcerer's light-colored eyes widened. “No?”

“The Que-Shu have little to do with the magical arts, other than healing and communing with the spirits of our ancestors.”

Vvelz assumed a look of deep concentration. “By your ways, then, the best thing Mors could do, once we defeat the Host, is marry Li El and rule with her.”

The blind warrior moved with remarkable speed. He jabbed the end of his staff into Vvelz's stomach. The slender sorcerer doubled over in pain and shock.

“Why-strike me?” Vvelz groaned.

“You should not make such remarks,” Mors said stiffly. “And thank your destiny I didn't have a sword in my hands.”

Vvelz backed away, shooting venomous looks at Mors. He slowly straightened, rubbing his bruised stomach. Catchflea offered to help him, but the sorcerer coolly declined the old man's hand. The air was thick with tension. Catchflea wondered what would happen next.

A digger ran headlong into the scene, tripping on a stone and sprawling at Mors's feet. Catchflea grasped the digger by the back of her black copper shirt and hauled her up. It was Di An.

“The warriors are coming!” she gasped.

Mors jumped up. “Where and how many?”

“Very many-more than we have faced before,” the elf girl said. She flung an arm out, pointing. “That way.”

Mors didn't see her gesture, but he scowled. Standing well out of the reach of the blind warrior's staff, Vvelz said, “Karn did not do as you expected. He did not retreat to the city.”

“No, someone has stiffened his spine,” Mors said darkly.

“The other giant is with Karn,” Di An reported.

“Riverwind is with him?” Catchflea asked. Di An looked to the old man and nodded once. “He would not help Li El willingly,” the old man insisted. “He must be under a spell.”

“It matters not why he is with them,” Mors replied. “If he fights for Li El, he must die as surely as any other warrior of the Host.”

“No!”

“I've no time to argue; there's a battle brewing.”

“If you want my help, you'd better grant me this favor,” Catchflea said. “Riverwind is my friend, and he must not be harmed.”

“Are you holding me up?” Mors planted his fists on his narrow hips.

Catchflea measured the distance between them, hoping that Mors could not strike him. Quietly he said, “That's the price of my assistance.”

Mors thrust out his chin. “You have been valuable to our cause,” he said. “I will tell my people to take the giant alive if they can.” Then Mors was off, shouting at his followers. Tired diggers appeared from the orchard and surrounding fields, their shirts stuffed with stolen fruit. Over a thousand diggers had been armed with everything from swords taken from dead Hestite soldiers to farm tools and mining equipment. The wagon with the pepper spraying device creaked out of the trees toward Mors. A few minutes after Di An had brought the news, the rebel army, such as it was, had assembled around its blind general.

“People of the Blue Sky,” Mors announced. “The tyrant Li El has not yet learned her lesson. As I stand here speaking to you, a large number of warriors is crossing the valley floor beyond the orchard. We must fight again today.” A loud murmur went through the crowd. “I know!” Mors said. “You are tired, but the task is too great to be done leisurely. We must smash the warriors wherever and whenever we find them, and only then will we gain our victory.”

Vvelz sidled up to Catchflea and Di An. “Do you believe in final victory, old man?” he said, barely above a whisper.

“More than I did before, yes,” said Catchflea. “We've beaten Li El's troops twice already.”

“Small bands, greatly outnumbered,” Vvelz countered. “Ambushed and frightened by weapons they've never seen before. Those out there now know what to expect. And your friend is with them. What do you think our chances are now?”

The old man put his arm around Di An's shoulders and looked Vvelz square in the eye. “Our chances are as the gods decide, yes. Just as it always was.”

Vvelz pursed his lips and turned away. He walked off among the scattered boulders and soon was lost from sight.

“What is his problem?” Catchflea wondered aloud.

“He is afraid,” Di An said. “Her Highness will do terrible things to him if she catches him.”

Catchflea ruffled his hand through Di An's short, sparse hair. “Are you afraid?” he asked gently.

“Yes.” She shivered. “But not really for myself.”

“Oh? You fear for Mors, yes?”

The Blue Sky army broke up as Mors finished his speech. The weary diggers filed into formations, ready to meet the enemy as they rounded the orchard. Di An ducked out from under the old man's arm and said, “Not only for Mors.”