Kellanved's Reach

Terath threw a handful of gravel into the fire, saying, exasperated, ‘But Renquill will be expecting just such a move.’

He held out his arms in an open shrug. ‘What choice do we have?’

At this point Yune raised a skeleton-thin hand. It shook with a terrible palsy, and Orjin knew the ancient had been driving himself harder than any of them, keeping tabs on as many of their pursuers as he could. He nodded for him to speak. ‘Yes?’

The elder cleared his throat. ‘We may have nothing to say, but there is one present who is very eager to speak indeed. And has been for some time, though he has held himself back as he is afraid of how he will be received.’

Everyone was puzzled. ‘Who, and why?’ Terath demanded.

‘Well,’ said Yune, ‘you see … he is a spy.’

Both Terath and Jeral surged to their feet, hands going to weapons. ‘What?’ Jeral snarled, glaring about at the surrounding encampment.

Orjin gestured for them to sit; he wasn’t surprised. Many states kept hired informants and even infiltrators in their neighbours’ armies – or should, if they were smart enough. ‘And he or she is eager to come forward now? Has a proposal?’

Yune shrugged. ‘Let us hear from him.’

Orjin nodded his compliance and the Dal Hon elder crooked a hand to the night.

A short, sturdy figure rose from one of the nearest campfires and approached, hesitantly. It proved to be a youth, in simple rags, not even armed. Orjin raked his memory, but couldn’t recall seeing the lad before. He eyed him narrowly. ‘And you are …?’

The lad gave an uneasy shrug. ‘Names can change, yes?’

Terath pointed a finger. ‘I know you! You claimed to be a runaway from a Quon estate.’

The youth nodded. ‘That much is true.’

Orjin waved for silence. ‘Never mind. Who do you speak for?’

‘An interested third party.’

Orjin was unimpressed. ‘Interested in what? Watching us get run down?’

The youth flushed, showing some measure of inexperience, but nodded to Orjin. ‘You said you had no options … I am empowered to offer one.’

Orjin rubbed his jaw, still a touch puzzled. ‘I believe my tactical evaluation to be pretty damned accurate.’

The young lad flushed anew. ‘It is. The picture changes, however, when you consider that while the party I speak for might not possess an army, it does possess a great number of ships.’

Everyone save Yune and Orjin jumped to their feet, all speaking at once.

‘How many ships?’ Terath demanded.

‘How soon?’ Arkady asked.

‘And from where?’ Jeral growled.

Orjin raised his hands for silence. ‘Quiet!’ He looked round. ‘Our friend here might not be the only spy in our camp.’

They sat once more, Jeral grudgingly. She extended a finger to the newcomer but spoke to Orjin. ‘I don’t like it. This one may be an infiltrator from Renquill sent to lure us to the coast with some cock and bull story of ships. At the coast we could be cornered and slaughtered.’

‘Yune?’ Orjin asked, a questioning brow raised.

‘Our friend is telling the truth when he says he speaks for a distant party.’

‘Who?’ Terath demanded.

The old shaman almost winced as he confessed, ‘The ruler of Malaz and the Napan Isles.’

Orjin’s hope soured; he’d heard the rumours regarding the powers there. Some sort of sorcerer who could summon demons, and his right hand a murderer who everyone believed had slain King Chulalorn the Third.

In the silence following Yune’s admission, the giant Orhan murmured, ‘Perhaps we cannot be so choosy.’

Orjin nodded. Orhan was right. If there was any chance at all to save his people he had to take it. ‘How soon can the ships get here?’ he asked the lad.

‘Three to four days.’

He rubbed his stubbled cheeks, thinking. So they just had to last another four days or so, and make it to the coast. He looked at Arkady, who was being his usual silent self. ‘Speak to our hill-folk guides, yes?’

The Wickan padded off.

Orjin regarded the agent. ‘Looks as though we have a deal. But if the ships don’t arrive – you die with us.’

The fellow nodded. ‘I will send word.’ Bowing, he departed.

A short while later Arkady returned with two of their guides in tow. Orjin couldn’t quite read their impassive and set faces as they joined the group round the fire, but to him they appeared troubled.

Arkady blew out a breath. ‘The west is where they’re thickest. The most forts. The most patrols. And the mountains peter out. We lose our cover.’

Terath was frowning. ‘But the ravine choking the coastal road where this whole campaign started …’

Orjin looked to their guides. ‘Uh-huh. What of that?’

The two eyed one another, clearly reluctant. Finally, one cleared his throat, murmuring, ‘Yes. Hidden River.’

‘And?’

‘They say there is a way,’ Arkady put in. ‘But there’s a problem.’

Orjin gestured, inviting them to speak. ‘Please. What is it?’

Clearly uncomfortable, one shifted, uneasy, then began, ‘It is a series of caves, and a river that goes underground. It comes out at a cove between cliffs on the shore. Our elders speak of it, but our people have not travelled its full route in generations.’

‘Why not?’