This Broken World, page 21
“Such as?” S’ythreni drawled.
“Well, they knew I had been bountying up near the western arm of the Gur Grehar, so I was sure to know about the Bent in that region. They also knew I’d spent my way through the meager earnings I’d brought back. So between their generous offer and my imminent penury, I took passage back to find and retrieve him…and promptly got snared myself.”
He laughed. “But some little bit of luck was attached to my sorry carcass, even so. The raiders what laid their scrabbly claws on me were from the same tribe that nicked Elweyr. And they proceeded to bring me before the very same shaman. But most important of all, not a one of them had any inkling of how much I knew of their ways and language.” He grinned. “We plotted our escape in the very middle of ‘language lessons.’” He glanced toward the outer cavern. “When we finally ran, we passed within five feet of this place.”
Kaakhag poked Umkhira to convey his question. “And that is how you came to learn the ways of the Underblack?”
“It is,” Elweyr answered. “We knew they would not want to follow us further down; the Rot often lose hunting parties there.”
Kaakhag made startled signs. “So you knew it was suicide, then?”
“Near suicide,” corrected Ahearn with a smile and a finger raised in didactic exception. “We also knew that the bodies of hunters who’d run afoul of beasts, rather than the Red, would still have gear on them.”
“That was a mad wager with your lives,” S’ythreni breathed.
“Not so mad when it’s your only chance,” Ahearn said with a philosophical smile. “Besides, in his time among the Rot, Elweyr had learned the way to the Grotto of Stone Bones.”
“The what?” asked Druadaen.
“The way we’re going to get out of here, once we’ve found Kaakhag’s get-brother. But we’ll have to be smart and fast, we will. Last time, we had twoscore Bent warriors and porters helping us.”
Druadaen tried to keep the disbelief out of his voice. “So you two became the leaders of a whole tribe?”
Ahearn looked like he was about to say “yes” when some iota of humility intervened. “Well, not really a tribe, but a hrug, a gang. We’re not Bent, so we couldn’t be the head of a tribe. But that’s a story for another time. Kaakhag there looks like he has an urgent point to make, water to release, or both.”
Umkhira was so distracted she did not immediately realize that the group was waiting for her translation. “He says that in the places we were today, he has seen the hash of the tribe that held him, but it has been changed. A new sigil has been blended into it.”
“You don’t see that, often,” Ahearn muttered.
Druadaen leaned forward. “What does it mean?”
Elweyr shrugged. “It means the chief Kaakhag knew has been replaced, but the tribe itself was not defeated or absorbed by another tribe.”
Umkhira was frowning. “It may have been the only hash Kaakhag saw today, but I saw something else on the wall near the site of our last skirmish.” She glanced at Kaakhag’s agitated gestures and explained to him, “You did not see it because it is not meant to be seen. It is a pattern of nicks and cuts in the wall, widely separated.”
Ahearn nodded slowly. “And what do those marks signify?”
She squared her shoulders, the way Druadaen had watched her do in Truce or Consequences just before uttering words she was loath, but honor bound, to speak. “It is a Lightstrider sign.”
S’ythreni goggled. “Down here?”
“It is a sign of danger and distress,” Umkhira continued without stopping. “The Lightstrider who made it is a young huntress, part of a tribe with which mine occasionally intermarries.” She sighed, closed her eyes. “I may not ignore it.”
Ahearn shrugged. “So?”
Her eyes opened into a wary squint. “I gave my word; you command my axe for a year.”
Ahearn squinted back, as if he was insulted. “So you did. But if you think I am going to demand that you forsake a stripling of your own kind…” His voice was firm, but his eyes became pained and hard. “If you believe I would ask such a thing, I free you of your oath. I have no need of followers who think so ill of me. But first things first: Does the mark show where this young huntress is?”
Umkhira’s voice suggested she had a hard time believing what she was hearing. “By leaving the marks beneath the new hash, she is indicating that it is the tribe that holds her.”
“Well, then,” Ahearn resolved with a slap of his knee. “Our paths continue together at least a little way further. I don’t suppose she passed any information on this tribe or its chief?”
Umkhira shook her head.
But Elweyr was frowning. “I would appreciate it if you or Kaakhag would draw the tribe’s new hash for me,” he murmured. “It’s been too dark for us humans to see it.”
“Very well,” Umkhira replied as her finger started tracing a sigil in the dust.
When it was done, Elweyr looked at it for several long, silent seconds. Then: “It’s his.”
“‘His’?” repeated S’ythreni.
But Ahearn was rising slowly to his feet, face suddenly pale with rage and shock. “It can’t be.”
Elweyr just nodded. “But it is.”
Druadaen looked back and forth between them. “You mean…the shaman who held the two of you as slaves?”
They nodded, then Ahearn turned to his friend. “How’d you even know to ask?”
“I didn’t…not until Umkhira mentioned the young huntress. Then, I started seeing the pattern.”
Ahearn raised an eyebrow. “Make sense, man. A young ur zhog hostage was part of a pattern that includes us?”
Elweyr nodded. “First, he’s trying to learn how to read—or just speak—human language from me. Then from you. And now he keeps this young Lightstrider a prisoner rather than just killing her. That’s why I suspected, Ahearn; it’s part of a pattern. And the pattern points at what he’s really after.”
“This shaman is keeping captives to learn from peoples that know more about the surface world than he does.” Druadaen frowned. “I think that’s why he’s situated himself here: he’s trying to get control of a major passage that links the Underblack and the Undergloom. Which will increase in importance as the hordeing gets closer.”
Umkhira frowned. “So he would collect tolls? But even if he could, the Red and the rest of the underkin could simply use other passages to the surface. I am told there are many.”
Ahearn shook his head. “There are, but the one beyond these chambers is the widest and the most direct. No doubt some underkin will forge their own paths, but they’ll have to go through the Rot and that’s a messy and uncertain business, at best.”
S’ythreni’s slow smile was half ironic, half admiring. “But if they’re willing to pay a toll to the shaman, any Bent coming up from the Black will know they can reach the surface quickly and without a fight.”
Druadaen nodded. “And that’s where the shaman’s knowledge of the surface becomes crucial. He not only provides them with the fastest route out of the tunnels; he can tell them the quickest way to get to choice places to raid and pillage. Meanwhile, the other Rot can emerge through other tunnels and become the guides or even leaders of the underkin, since they’ve spent the last ten years raiding it from time to time.”
Umkhira was nodding as Kaakhag signed at her. “He says that this all sounds very well, but that the Red and the underkin will not know, or want, to arrive with coin to pay a toll. They will only have weapons, hunger, and the desire to kill. Anything.”
Elweyr nodded. “All true. But if the shaman is clever—and this one is—he won’t ask for payment in coin or goods. He’ll want recruits. And with too many mouths to feed, the underkin will be happy to part with a few of their underlings. And then he turns around and sells the other end of the deal to the Rot by telling the tribes of the Undergloom that he can ensure that when the Red and other kin-eaters go a-hordeing to the surface, that he can prevent clashes by keeping them on an agreed-upon route. And all he needs from the Rot is their cooperation…and modest compensation.”
S’ythreni cocked a long eyebrow. “More slaves? More service?”
Druadaen nodded. “He doesn’t need the best warriors: just enough followers that he cannot be successfully challenged.”
Kaakhag frowned, chin sinking into his hands as if his head were growing heavier by the second.
Elweyr nodded. “And that’s when the shaman will start occupying and holding intersections, water sources, and access to better hunting areas.”
Ahearn nodded. “And only then does he start charging tolls. Small, and payable in common goods, probably, but it would add up. Before long, he’d not only have more bodies than any three tribes, but more loot than any ten.”
Druadaen leaned back. “And to ensure that he does not become a target of envy or assassination, he needs to grow his personal powers—both as a shaman and a mantic. He could become impossible to overthrow.”
Umkhira frowned. “If all that is true, he will not join the Horde.”
Kaakhag’s hand signals were so hurried she could barely keep up. “Yes, you are right. Because even the most successful tribes will lose many warriors, but the shaman’s numbers would be even greater when the Horde is finished.”
Umkhira nodded. “If these guesses are rough shapes of the truth, then we have many reasons to strike him—the shaman himself—as quickly and as hard as we can.” Kaakhag signaled emphatic agreement.
Ahearn nodded back. “Agreed.” He glanced at Druadaen, who was frowning; he was less than certain that killing one figure could have such a decisive impact. “First rule of the Under, Dunarran: A group rarely survives the death of its leader. That leader’s power and reputation is all that holds tribes and hrugs together in the first place. So if we mean to rescue Kaakhag’s get-brother and the Lightstrider huntress, we can’t just grab ’em and run.”
Elweyr nodded. “If we don’t get rid of the shaman, he’ll keep his forces on our trail. We’ll never get out alive. But if we kill him, the tribe will fly to pieces, the weak sticking to the strong like mites clinging to a fleeing dog.” He frowned. “Problem is, we don’t even know where the bastard is holed up.”
Kaakhag gestured back toward the entry. “There are only a few chambers in this part of the Under big enough to hold a single tribe. So if he means to grow larger than that, he will need to claim more than one of them,” Umkhira translated. “He will leave hashes on them as warnings to others. So if your guesses are right, he will be easy to find.”
Umkhira looked up, added. “Besides, my kinswoman will have left more of her hidden signs. So if you are right about why the shaman has kept her, she will not be far from him.”
S’ythreni stared around the group. “My worry is that right before arriving here, we killed at least one pair of his guards. So he may be looking for us, too.”
Ahearn shook his head. “No. So far, we’ve been like a fly dancing at the far strands of a spider’s web. He’s no doubt noticed a tug or two, but that’s nothing strange in the Under. And as Umkhira pointed out, we’ve been careful to pilfer the bodies and leave ’em just as he’d expect passing raiders to do.”
She smiled. “I guess I’ll have to forgive you for agreeing to take all the ‘useless’ gear.”
Ahearn smiled back. “See? Always a method to my madness.”
“Always?”
“Well,…usually. Now, let’s get fed and get to sleep. We’ve much to do, come the morrow.”
Chapter Twenty
After two days preparing, planning, and fruitlessly listening for the sounds of urzhen in the tunnel beyond the outer cavern, they crept forth, all unnecessary gear left in the hidden chamber. If they survived, they’d hopefully have the chance to return and reclaim it. But if they had to flee for their lives, every ounce that they left behind made it just that much more likely that they’d be able to outpace their pursuers.
Their plans were not so thorough or detailed as those they’d settled upon before prior attacks, simply because they were relying far more upon conjecture than information. Of the five suitable caverns Kaakhag knew to be in the area, three were both close to their chamber and close to each other—so close that if the shaman was residing in any of them, the tribe would need to maintain control over all three. If they didn’t, any unoccupied cavern would be a handy place from which an adversary could mount an attack with a large force. That made Kaakhag’s knowledge of Rot territory hashes particularly important; those were the only means whereby they might have some idea of which of the three—or the others—was the shaman’s personal seat of power.
After passing the rat-gnawed remains of the two guards they had defeated days before, the group began moving quickly. Presuming they were in enemy territory meant that every passing minute increased the chance of bumping into various urzhen simply going about the tribe’s daily business. The only way to reduce the odds of that occurring was to move more quickly, but the only way to achieve that was to somehow improve the visibility for the three humans. So they resorted to an expedient that they had previously used in a more limited fashion and only for conducting attacks: small patches of glowing lichen, now affixed to each of their backs. That enabled the humans to see where Kaakhag and Umkhira were leading them and also allowed Ahearn to remain at the back with Raun, whose ears were their best protection against surprises from behind.
After half an hour, in which they passed through several four- and five-way intersections, Umkhira called for a brief halt to warn them that, according to what Kaakhag had been told, they were now nearing the outer guard points for the first of the three caves that could house the greater part of the shaman’s tribe. But when they continued on, they passed those points without encountering any living creatures and so, followed the tunnel all the way to their first destination.
It was a single immense chamber rather than a complex of sizable caverns, and it showed signs of recent use, but only as a lager, or maybe a meeting place. The subtle spoor that would have marked it as jealously held territory—debris, scat, cooking circles—was absent. Since it was also the site closest to the tunnel that led down into the Black, Druadaen wondered aloud if this might be where the shaman met the underkin to parley. Kaakhag and the other two humans simply shrugged; there was no way to know.
Another ten minutes of walking brought them to a fork in the tunnel. Kaakhag studied the stone around that split, looked up both passages, and then led them into the smaller of the two. Better to assess that one first, he explained, since its size made it the less likely candidate.
They moved barely ten minutes in that direction before Kaakhag called a halt to their cautious forward creeping and turned about. They hadn’t encountered any outlying guard posts or defense barriers, the tribal hashes were sparse, and Umkhira had seen none of her kinswoman’s secret signs.
Upon returning to the fork, they entered the larger passage and, within minutes, encountered clear signs that they were approaching the shaman’s seat of power. Kaakhag pointed out the significant increase in tribal hashes and Umkhira reported seeing the huntress’s signs. Other passages branched off, but Kaakhag did not even bother to investigate them; he knew them to be minor connectors to other tunnels.
Ten minutes later, he called for a halt and went ahead on his own. He returned within the minute, motioning that the time had come to cover the glowing lichen markers on their backs. Umkhira began translating the gestures that only she could see, now. “He says that there are four Rot up ahead, guarding the entrance to the main tunnel into this cave complex. One of them is very large, probably a kosh.”
Druadaen frowned. “I do not know that word.”
“It’s slang for ‘kagh urzh.’ Means he’s a beefy fellow,” Ahearn explained. “Born so large that his chief made sure he had enough food and training to grow into a big, powerful warrior. Better weapons and armor, too.” Ahearn make a tsk noise. “But what worries me is that there are four watching the entrance.”
Umkhira murmured. “Why? We expected a large number patrolling any entry to the shaman’s seat of power.” She paused, then added Kaakhag’s comment. “You claimed Elweyr’s mancery can overcome that many.”
“Yes,” Elweyr muttered, annoyed. “But while doing so, I can’t move quickly. I’ll have to keep concentrating on the thaumate.”
“Why this time and not the others?” Umkhira asked.
Ahearn interceded for his friend. “If he wanted, Elweyr could dazzle this lot until their eyes crossed and they fell over. But here, we can’t afford the sound of them hitting the ground or awakening later to discover themselves all passed out in one great heap. The dimmest Bent ever whelped would still know to sound an alarm.”
“So,” Umkhira said after a pause, “we must use the same methods we did at the first intersection we had to cross, the day we entered.”
Elweyr nodded. “Yes. The first guard had to be dazed and held that way. If he’d just fallen over unconscious, the second guard wouldn’t have stepped over to check on him. He would have sounded an alarm.”
Druadaen saw the difficulty. “But here, you have to hold four in that kind of daze at the same time. So that they will have no memory of us passing.”
Ahearn nodded. “All of which takes more concentration and more magic—”
“Manas,” Elweyr corrected with a long-suffering sigh.
“Manas, magic, power, hoo-doo. Call it what you will but holding those Bent unaware will cost you dear.”
S’ythreni’s voice suggested more than mere practical concern. “Elweyr, is it safe to spend so much?”
He answered in a tone that was the equivalent of a shrug. “Thaumancy doesn’t personally drain the wielder the way other mantic disciplines do. But the less manas I have left, the less likely I am to succeed at constructing additional thaumates.”
“‘Constructing additional thaumates’?” repeated Umkhira slowly.
“That’s wizard-talk for ‘cast more spells,’” supplied Ahearn. “Now, let’s be about finishing this business. Do either of you see fireglow coming from behind the entry they’re guarding?”
