King of Foxes (33 page)

Men fell weeping to the sand. Exhausted, weak, and frightened, they were nevertheless free.

Tal looked around and started counting.

When he had done so, he knew the horrible fact: there were only eleven of them on the beach. One man had drowned himself and he had seen the sharks take four, so one more had been taken or drowned trying to reach the shore.

Baron Visniya, Masterson the murderer, Captain Quint, Tal, and seven other men sat drenched on the sand. Then it hit Tal: Will wasn’t there.

He looked out at the rolling water, listened to the sounds of breakers and the panting of the exhausted men.

For a brief moment he expected to see Will pop out of the water and start walking toward them, but after a minute he acknowledged the truth: Will was gone.

Tal looked at the sky. It was an hour after noon. The journey from the island had taken seven hours and cost six lives, and they still had several hundred miles of trekking ahead of them before they reached civilization. The only solace at the moment for Tal was knowing that he was free, and that pursuit wouldn’t commence for weeks, perhaps months. He could concentrate on moving at a steady pace, keeping the men alive, and getting to somewhere where he could begin to put his plan into effect.

After taking one more look out to sea, he turned and said, “Let’s get the weapons and provisions off the raft.

Then we need to find a campsite and start a fire.”

Slowly the men got to their feet and moved to carry out their leader’s orders.

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Jenkins lay still, his face a mask of agony as Tal cut at his leg with a knife. The snake he had just killed lay a few feet away, still writhing after Tal had cut off its head.

“Is he going to die, Tal?” asked Quint.

“No, but he’s going to wish he had before the poison runs its course.”

Tal had cut above the fang marks and he now sucked out as much of the blood and poison as he could. Quint looked around. They were in a rocky lowland, ten miles inland from the sea, following a series of ravines that ran along a line of foothills that paralleled the coast. Filthy, tired men stood and watched as Tal worked on Jenkins’s leg.

Quint studied the sky, then the fallen man. “All right,”

he said, “That’s it for today. Get some wood, and let’s get a fire started.”

Tal said nothing. Quint had let his natural habit of leadership come to the fore and had assumed the position of second-in-command and Tal didn’t voice any objection. Order was welcome in this company.

Tal glanced from face to face as the men started to make camp, something in which they were well practiced.

Eleven men had walked out of the surf and now, three weeks later, there were eight left in the company. Rafelson had fallen to his death as they climbed over a rather in-nocuous hill, stumbling and striking his head on a rock.

Vilnewski had simply been found dead one morning under his cloak. Jacobo had died after being gored by a boar they had hunted. No one could stop the bleeding.

The men were weak and tired, and Tal had no idea how much longer they could endure the journey. He had _______________

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a rough idea of where they were and realized at their present rate it would probably take them another month to reach the river that was the boundary between Olasko and Bardac’s Holdfast. He thought Quint and Masterson had a good chance of making it to the end, and Baron Visniya had proven unexpectedly tough. Jenkins might make it if he survived the night with the snake’s venom, but Tal was being optimistic. A healthy man would survive the snake bite, but Jenkins was far from healthy. They had lived on forage for three weeks, and were the worse for it. Sleeping outside didn’t help, because even though it was spring, the nights this far north were not gentle.

Tal motioned for Quint to move closer to him and said quietly, “We need shelter. We need to have a place to rest up for a week, maybe more, a place where we can hunt and bring in some stores and get the men stronger.”

Quint nodded in agreement. “We’re a month from Bardac’s, at least,” he said. “Even if Jenkins hadn’t found that snake, he’s not likely to make it.” He pointed toward three men who were looking for wood, but moving at a very slow pace. “Donska, Whislia, and Stolinko are dead men within a week if we don’t rest up.” He glanced around. “But where?”

“A cave, maybe,” said Tal. “You get the men comfortable about the fire, and I’ll see if I can find shelter. I’ll be back before dark.”

Tal returned two hours later, having found a cave up in a ravine. He told the men, “We’ll stay here one more night, without moving Jenkins, then we’ll head up there tomorrow.”

After a meager meal of berries found along the way and the last of the dried boar meat, the men gathered close to the campfire and went to sleep. Jenkins groaned, and his breathing became ragged and shallow.

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Tal watched the man’s face, seeing the perspiration running off as he whimpered.

Quint came over and softly asked, “He going to make it?”

“Maybe,” said Tal. “We’ll know in the morning.”

Quint took Tal by the arm and moved him a little way from the others. “Tal, you’ve said nothing about what we’re going to do when we get to the border.”

“I’m counting on you to get us across, Quint. You know the Olaskan military better than anyone. Some time or another you must have read a report or heard about a place we can cross, then circle around and get north of Karesh’kaar, so we can enter the city that way.”

Quint said, “Maybe. I heard of some bogland south of the river, maybe forty miles inland, where no one patrols; it’s too treacherous. But even if we do get across, once we’re in Karesh’kaar, what then?”

“We eat, we rest, we heal, then we start recruiting.”

“I thought all that ‘building an army’ talk was just bravado.”

“I’m serious. I plan on sacking Opardum’s citadel with Kaspar in it.”

Quint laughed. “Have you ever seen a mercenary company, let alone been in one?”

Tal smiled. “As a matter of fact, I have. Truth to tell, I was captain of a company.”

“Really?” said Quint. “You never mentioned it.”

“I didn’t think Kaspar would appreciate hearing about it.”

“Why?

Tal said, “Because I’m the man who killed Raven and destroyed his company, blunting Kaspar’s attack into the land of the Orodon.”

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laughed. “My first reaction was to throttle you, because Kaspar was as mad as a bull with a porcupine up his arse, but now that I think of it, good for you. I served with Raven once. He was an evil bastard if ever there was one.

I am a soldier, but I’ve no love for war. That man enjoyed slaughter. I saw him kill babies.”

Tal said nothing for a while, then asked, “Why didn’t you try to stop him?”

“I’d have had to kill him. And I was there as a military liaison, just making sure Raven found the right targets, not a commander telling him how to do his work.

“I saw him butcher women, order archers to shoot at old men, saw him ride over children . . .” Quint looked down for a moment as if the memories were uncomfortable. “I saw him shoot down a boy, couldn’t have been more than thirteen, fourteen. Poor lad was covered in blood, carrying a sword far too large for him, wobbly-legged, and half dead already. I just warned Raven in case the lad got close enough to maybe take a cut at him, but instead of knocking him down or riding away, the bastard shot him with a crossbow.” He was silent for a bit, then added, “Glad to hear you’re the one who killed him, Tal.

Makes me think you might have some hope of seeing this mad plan of yours work. But I have one question.”

“What?”

“Armies need gold. Last time I looked we weren’t lugging any along with the supplies. How do you propose to get gold?”

Tal said, “Get us to Karesh’kaar, and I’ll get us some gold.”

“I’ll do my best,” said Quint. “Why don’t you turn in?

I’ll take the first watch.”

“Wake me in two hours,” said Tal. He found his own bundle, unrolled it, and lay for a while thinking of what _______________

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Quint had said. He remembered the day Quint had mentioned, for he had been the boy Raven had shot with the crossbow. He could recall in detail the Captain’s turning to Raven, while Lieutenant Campaneal sat on the other side, and Quint’s mouth moving as he warned Raven of Tal’s approach. And he well remembered the casual way in which Raven had raised his crossbow and shot him.

Tal rolled over. Liaison or not, Quint had still been there when his village had been destroyed. His distaste for Raven didn’t change a thing. One day Quint was going to die at Tal’s hands.

But before he fell into slumber, Tal wondered if it had been Quint who had saved Eye of the Blue-Winged Teal, and if there had been others saved as well.

He slept for two hours, was awakened by Quint, and then after two hours he woke Visniya and returned to sleep. In the morning he awoke and stretched, then looked across to the campfire. Jenkins was dead.

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The cave had been their home for a week, and the men were slowly growing stronger. Tal had set snares around the area and caught enough rabbits and squirrels and one fat turkey that they were eating relatively well. He had found wild berries and a stand of plants he recognized from his homeland; the roots were edible and nourishing if slowly heated in water for a few hours. Lacking a pot, he contrived a way to cook them; he wrapped the tubers in leaves and put them in a pit, which he filled with heated rocks, steaming the roots by pouring water over the rocks. The process was tedious and had to be repeated many times, but the men welcomed the addition to their diets.

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Tal felt stronger than he had since leaving the fortress, and he knew that in a few more days they would need to start the next leg of their journey. Quint came over to where Tal was sitting and asked, “Do you think Kaspar will try to find us?”

“You know him better than I do. What do you think?”

“Depends.” The old soldier had become gaunt since leaving the Fortress and now had a ragged beard and matted hair. “He may be too busy with another of his mad plans to send soldiers after us, but he’ll surely have his agents around the region keeping an eye out for us.”

“He has agents in Karesh’kaar?”

Quint smiled. “Everywhere. Some work directly for him, like you did, and others are just men who know that Kaspar pays well for certain information. There are a fair number of Olaskons living in Bardac’s, and I’ve seen the reports. I don’t know who’s writing them, but Kaspar’s got eyes everywhere.”

“So what? Once we’re out of Olasko, he can’t arrest us.”

“But he can kill us,” said Quint. He laughed. “My only pleasure these days is imagining him fuming when he hears we’ve escaped. It will annoy him no end not knowing where we are. Given his nature, he will assume we’re sitting in some tavern right now, drinking, eating, and whoring, laughing at him and calling him a fool. Brooding is his downfall.”

Tal didn’t smile. “I take no comfort from Kaspar getting distressed.” He held out the stump of his right arm.

“He has this and many more things to answer for. You might be content to get away from him and find service elsewhere, Quint, but I mean to see him dead at the end of my sword.” Tal’s eyes became cold. “And not until I’ve taken everything from him. First I destroy his power, then I take away his wealth,
then
I kill him.”

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Quint said, “Dreams are nice, Tal, but look where we are.”

Tal looked around the rocky hills, which were broken only by stands of trees and brush. The afternoon wind was blowing, hot with the promise of summer to come, and birds could be heard in all directions. He looked back at Quint. “Well, I didn’t say I was going to do it today.”

Quint laughed. “Very well.”

Tal stood up. To the other men he said, “I think after a couple more days of hunting we’ll start moving north again. I’d like to sleep in a bed before another month goes past.”

The men nodded, and Tal turned to Quint. “I think I’ll check the snares.”

Quint nodded and watched as Tal walked away, carrying a spear he had made from a sapling, a knife at his belt, his sword cast aside in his bedding for the time being. The former Captain shook his head. Tal looked nothing like the Champion of the Masters’ Court, nor would he even if he had had both arms. But then, Quint considered, he looked nothing like the commander of the Armies of Olasko, either. He decided to head down to the lake they had passed on their way up to the cave and try his hand at fishing.

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Five ragged men waded through the bogs. Fetid pools covered in green slime were bounded by muddy flats.

Trees with stunted branches dotted the landscape, small markers by which they judged their position as they moved north.

Tal, Quint, Masterson, Visniya, and a former nobleman, Stolinko, all who were left from the escape from the _______________

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Fortress of Despair, waded through knee-deep water.

Flies plagued them, and the day’s heat beat down on them. Even after the cave’s brief respite Donska and Whislia had deteriorated during the arduous journey, and they had also been lost.

“You’d think with this heat the damn place would dry up,” said Masterson, his huge ax carried over his shoulder.

Quint grunted something approximating a laugh.

Tal said, “We’re downhill from a big range of mountains.” He stopped a moment, wiping his brow, then continued. “It rains up there a lot, and this part of the countryside is like a bloody big bowl that doesn’t drain quite as fast as it fills up, no matter what the weather’s like.” He pointed in the direction they were moving. “But out there, somewhere, it
is
draining, and when we find a good-sized stream coming out of this mess, it’ll lead us to the river.”