The Dreamtrails (13 page)

“There was no talk of Councilmen or the west coast in what I heard,” Noviny said. “As far as I can understand, this is a Herder invasion. But those sent will certainly be warrior priests.”

“Warrior priests …,” I echoed, some memory nagging at me.

Noviny nodded. “You say that priests are not warriors, lad, but there have always been priests trained to fight. There was a name they called themselves, but I do not recall it. A number of them inevitably accompanied the higher cadre priests as honor guards when they came to the cloister here.
Having seen them practice, I do not doubt their skill.

“And while it is true that initially these warrior priests were just a small force within the priesthood, even before the rebellion, that was starting to change. The head priest of Saithwold—a Nine and a proud, cold man—often spoke disparagingly of the Faction’s soldierguards. More than once he implied that his masters were growing weary of spending their coin on the temporary loyalties of soldierguards. Once, he said that a soldierguard was a cur whereas a warrior priest was intelligent, courageous, and loyal unto death to the Faction’s principles and ideals. When I admired their discipline after seeing the warrior priests exercise, the Nine told me that they trained on Norseland under the most stringent conditions,” he said.

“Warrior priests …,” I muttered again, and then I remembered. Domick had mentioned warrior priests several times in the last garbled messages before his disappearance, and I was sure that he had even mentioned a vast training camp, though he had not said it was on Norseland. I could see that Faction leaders would much prefer fanatical warrior priests, who did not have to be bought, to soldiers for hire, and it made sense that, having fled the Land, they would do all they could to increase their numbers against future need. An army of their own kind would free them from having to rely on or accommodate anyone outside the Faction. And, of course, they would have at their disposal all the young novices and acolytes from the abandoned cloisters in the Land.

“Do you think the west coast Councilmen know anything about this invasion?” I asked.

“I have thought much about this. I think the Herders did not warn the Councilmen this side of the Suggredoon about the rebellion, because they wanted them to be defeated. And
I think they warned the Councilmen on the west coast, not because they favored them but to ensure that we did not take over the whole Land. They were practicing a strategy called
divide and conquer
. They knew they had not strength enough to confront the east and west coast Council and its legion of soldierguards, so they allowed the rebels to defeat them in this part of the Land. The rebellion thus had the effect of producing two lesser powers, each in control of one part of the Land, with the added advantage that each saw the other as the primary enemy. That has left the Herders free to develop a force and play their own secret game.”

“But how does Malik fit into this?” Zarak asked.

Noviny shrugged. “I have no doubt he has been offered wealth and the sort of power he yearns for in the Land, after the Faction reclaims it. Remember, he failed to be voted high chieftain, and he is now about to face a trial here for his betrayal of your people.”

A chill slipped down my spine at the realization that, in coming to Saithwold, I had put myself within the reach of Malik, who hated me. I was about to ask how many knew that Khuria was a Misfit, when Zarak asked, “But how did the Herders get to Malik in the first place?”

“ ’Tis my guess he signaled the ships and offered to betray the rebels, lad,” Khuria said. “He was in the perfect position to do it without anyone kenning it. But it might also be that someone here got to him and made him an offer, fer it is well kenned that he loathes Misfits an’ Dardelan’s championing of ye. Then there is th’ Beast Charter.”

“Are you sure that the west coast is not involved in the invasion?” I asked, thinking of Maryon’s prediction of trouble in the west.

“I do not doubt it,” Noviny answered. “The Councilmen
see the Herders as allies, and the Faction would encourage that. Not only can the Herders control Council activities to some extent but they can also make sure no pact or truce is made between the west coast Councilmen and the rebels here. But rest assured that when they are ready, the Faction will dispense with both the Council and the rebels and take control of all the Land themselves.”

Zarak leapt to his feet. “I am sorry to interrupt, but, Guildmistress, ye said we would have to wait until the election before anyone would come here. Yet what of the Master of Obernewtyn? Surely the moment he arrives in Sutrium for the ceremony to celebrate the new Charter of Laws, finds ye absent, an’ hears what Brydda says, he will ride here with the coercer-knights. And I dinna think they will be turned away, for even if they cannot use their Talents against men wearing demon bands, they are skilled fighters. It will be nothing fer them to overcome those louts guarding the barricade.”

In that moment, Zarak reminded me of Matthew, who had been much given to notions of romantic rescues. But I knew that the last thing Rushton would do when he discovered my absence would be to ride to Saithwold. He would accept Dardelan’s decision that matters be left as they were until the elections and be relieved that I was not in Sutrium. Grief and desolation clawed at me, but I stifled them and said aloud that we dared not wait and hope to be rescued. Too much was at stake. Then I stopped, realizing that I had no more idea than Noviny how to stop the invasion. After an uncomfortable silence, Noviny sighed and suggested we eat.

I took little food, my appetite gone, but Zarak had heaped his plate high, and between mouthfuls he said, “I can nowt believe Malik has made this bargain after he fought to free the Land.”

Noviny said wearily, “I think he fought, as many do, not to rid the Land of oppression but to create a situation in which he could gain power. Instead, he is to be tried for betraying your people. So not only does he stand to gain the power he wants from the Faction, but he will also take revenge on the rest of us.”

“It will not come to that,” I said through gritted teeth. “We will get a message to Sutrium.”

“How?” Zarak asked eagerly.

“I am not sure yet,” I admitted. I looked at Noviny and asked, “Is it common knowledge here that Khuria is a beastspeaker?”

Noviny shrugged. “It was clear from the beginning that Vos would torment any Misfit in this region, so we never spoke of it openly; however, there are many who probably harbor suspicions.”

“Okay,” I said. “Now, who normally shops for your household?”

“Wenda and one of the servant girls take a small cart into town once every sevenday,” the older man answered, looking perplexed.

“If you will permit it, then, tomorrow Wenda will take me to town to see what patent medicines are available for my crippled companion. Better to act as if we are innocents who got into the region by chance.”

“You will be harassed by Vos’s armsmen, if they do not insist on taking you to him. And they will all wear demon bands, so you will not be able to prevent it,” Noviny warned.

“I
want
them to take me to him, because I assume that is where Vos’s men live as well. If I can reach a single armsman, I can impose a coercive command to remove his band whenever a certain control word is spoken. That means I can get to
him later and coerce him to help us spread the word to Dardelan and the others. I will also do my best to stop anyone regarding us as a threat, by playing the innocent fool. Just one thing: Is Malik like to be there?”

Noviny shook his head decisively. “Malik rarely enters the town, and I doubt very much he will be at Vos’s property. His plans require him to stay very much in the background at this stage. But you can be sure he will demand a full report from Vos.”

“Will Vos not recognize you?” Zarak asked.

“I think the chance is slim, because Vos is the sort of man who does not look at anyone properly, especially not those he believes are his inferiors. But just in case,” I added, “I will change my appearance.”

I retired early that night, more to think than anything else, for I was wide awake. I kept turning over and rejecting plans, occasionally getting up to gaze out the window at the dark wood behind the homestead and wonder what had become of Maruman. He had stalked off in a rage when I told him that he could not accompany me to town, refusing to listen when I explained that if I carried him on my shoulder, I might as well put up a sign announcing myself as a Misfit. Gahltha had told me not to worry, saying he would go and find the old cat, but neither had returned, and now I worried about both of them.

My mind shifted to Zarak’s touching certainty that the Master of Obernewtyn would ride to my rescue. Absurd and impossible as it was, I wished it were so. But Rushton would not come. It was not that he hated me or wished me harm; it was only that he no longer loved me or wanted to be near me.

Why, I wondered bleakly, was it so much more hurtful to
love him hopelessly now than before I had known that he cared for me? I cursed myself and turned over, forcing my mind back to the problem of sending a message from Saithwold about the invasion. It was deep in the night before I finally slept.

I dreamed I was walking along a wharf toward a knot of people. There were men and women and boys, all roped together.
Slaves
, I thought, recognizing the wharf, though it was not the one in Sutrium.

What am I doing here
? I wondered. Then one of the slaves turned and I recognized his face. It was Matthew, but he was a boy again. It was a memory dream.

“Elspeth!” Matthew farsent urgently. “Ride on past, fer Obernewtyn’s sake!”

I beastspoke Gahltha, asking him to slow down and pretend lameness, and then I slipped to the cobbles, pretending to examine his hooves. On one level, I knew that I was dreaming of my last moments with Matthew, but another part of me was in that moment, desperately measuring the distance to Matthew, trying to see the lock on his shackles and calculate how long it would take to unlock it, mount Gahltha with him, and gallop away. The nearest soldierguards were close—one carried a short sword, and two held bows in their hands; all of them were wary and alert. Perhaps I could coerce them into fumbling or even into not seeing me move.

“It’s no good,” Matthew sent, resolution and despair in his mindvoice. “Ye mun let ’em take me.”

“Matthew, they’re taking you away on a ship!”

“I ken it,” Matthew sent calmly. “An’ ye’ll let them because we are outnumbered. I’m nowt afraid.… I love ye, Elspeth. I’m sorry about Dragon.…”

His mental voice faded as he walked over the gangplank, over the water.

“Matthew!” I sent in anguish. The cry, coming from the self who had lived through that awful parting and the self who now dreamed of it, was so strong that it catapulted me out of the memory dream. I had the sensation of falling through darkness, and suddenly I was on a steep stony road following a line of men with picks and other digging implements hoisted over their shoulders. The man directly in front of me turned, and I gasped, for I saw that it was Matthew, but now he was a grown man. I had dreamed of him like this before, but the dream had never felt so real. At the same time, I was very conscious that I was not present in the dream, save as a watcher, for though his eyes seemed to search mine, I knew he could not see me. A man ahead called out to ask him what the matter was.

“It’s nowt,” he answered, turning away from me. “I thought I heard someone shout my name.”

A hand grapsed my shoulder, shaking me gently.

“Matthew?” I mumbled.

“Guildmistress, I am sorry to disturb ye.” It was Zarak, looking pale and excited. He whispered, “I have an idea I mun tell ye.”

I sat up and shook my head, my mind still full of the dream, which had begun as a memory and then turned into something else when I cried out Matthew’s name.

“What time is it?” I rasped, gathering my wits.

“Just before dawn.” The farseeker leaned forward in his eagerness. “I have been thinking that Malik’s betrayal could be made to serve us. If we let the Herders land an’ disembark their force, rather than trying to stop them, we could
commandeer their ships. Just think of it! With a ship, we could gan to the west coast immediately, rather than waiting months and months for the new ships to be finished!”

I blinked at him, trying to take in his suggestion.

“There is no way the west coast Councilmen could be prepared for an attack so soon,” he continued. “And if they are not involved in plans for this invasion, they might not even ken it is happening. Seeing Herder ships approach, they will assume they came from Herder Isle. We could land in their midst before they realized it.”

My mind raced ahead, seeing further possibilities. If we took possession of the Herder ships and captured the west coast, I could then petition Dardelan to send a ship to the Red Queen’s land, restore Dragon to her kingdom, and free her people, free Matthew, and find whatever it was that Cassy had left there for me.

“It is a good thought,” I said. “The only problem is that we would have to allow ourselves to be invaded to get the ships. We would need a force ready and waiting to capture the invaders, which means getting word out to the other chieftains.”

“We
have
to find a way,” Zarak said.

“If we are fortunate, I will learn something today that will help us. Now go away and let me get dressed. I will see you in the kitchen.”

After he had departed, I sluiced myself with cold water, dried, and dressed, wrinkling my nose at the stale smell of my shirt. Despite the hour, everyone was up and eating firstmeal when I entered the kitchen.

We spoke of Vos and his ambitions, and of Darius’s health. Then I announced that I wanted to go and see what kind of patent medicines the town had. Wenda nodded, saying that
her grandfather had mentioned my desire to go into town and that she would take me. Then she asked apologetically if I would like to borrow a skirt and shirt of hers. I accepted with alacrity, knowing that her demure style would make me look quite different if I dressed my hair to suit. Besides, her offer told me I probably smelled worse than I realized. We could stop at the wagon on our way back from town so I could collect a change of clothes.