“I have heard that Pictish shamans catch these creatures and tame them and use them to smell out their enemies,” he said slowly.
“But how could Lord Valerian so use one?”
“I know not,” I answered. “But that neckcloth was given to the beast, and according to its nature it smelled my trail out and sought to break my neck. Let us go to the gaol, and quickly.”
Hakon roused his six rangers, and we hurried there and found the guard lying before the open door of Valerian’s empty cell with his throat cut. Hakon stood like one turned to stone, and then a faint call made us turn, and we saw the white face of the drunkard peering at us from the next cell.
“He’s gone,” quoth he. “Lord Valerian’s gone. Hark’ee: an hour agone while I lay on my bunk, I was awakened by a sound outside, and saw a strange dark woman come out of the shadows and walk up to the guard. He lifted his bow and bade her halt, but she laughed at him, staring into his eyes, and he became as one in a trance. He stood staring stupidly …and, Mitra! she took his own knife from his girdle and cut his throat, and he fell down and died. Then she took the keys from his belt and opened the door, and Valerian came out. and laughed like a devil out of Hell, and kissed the wench, and she laughed with him. And she was not alone, for something lurked in the shadows behind her …some vague, monstrous being that never came into the light of the lantern hanging over the door. I heard her say best to kill the fat drunkard in the next cell, and by Mitra I was so nigh dead of fright I knew not if I were even alive. But Valerian said I was dead drunk, and I could have kissed him for that word. So they went away, and as they went he said he would send her companion on a mission, and then they would go to the cabin on Lynx Creek, and there meet his retainers, who had been hiding in the forest ever since he sent them from Valerian Hall. He said that Teyanoga would come to them there and they would cross the border and go among the Picts and bring them back to cut all our throats.”
Hakon looked livid in the lantern light.
“Who is this woman?” I asked curiously.
“His half-breed Pictish mistress,” he said. “Half Hawk Pict and half Ligurean. They call her the Witch of Skan-daga. I have never seen her, never before credited the tales whispered of her and Lord Valerian. But it is the truth.”
“I thought I had slain old Teyanoga,” I muttered. “The old fiend must bear a charmed life …I saw my shaft quivering in his breast. What now?”
“We must go to the hut on Lynx Creek and slay them all,” said Hakon. “If they loose the Picts on the border, there will be the devil to pay. We can spare no more men from the fort or the town. We are enough. I know not how many men there will be on Lynx Creek, and I do not care. We will take them by surprise.”
He released the drunkard to carry word to the fort of what had befallen, and we set out at once through the starlight. The land lay silent, lights twinkling dimly in the houses. To the westward loomed the black forest, silent, primordial, a brooding threat to the people who dared it.
We went in single file, bows strung and held in our left hands, hatchets swinging in our right hands. Our moccasins made no sound in the dew-wet grass.
We melted into the woods and struck a trail that wound among oaks and alders.
Here we strung out with some fifteen feet between each man and the next, Hakon leading; and-presently we dipped down into a grassy hollow and saw light streaming faintly from the cracks of shutters that covered a cabin’s windows.
Hakon halted us and whispered for the men to wait, while we crept forward and spied upon them. We stole up and surprised the sentry …a Schohiran renegade, who must have heard our stealthy approach but for the wine which staled his breath. I shall never forget the fierce hiss of satisfaction that breathed between Hakon’s clenched teeth as he drove his knife into the villain’s heart. We left the body hidden in the tall, rank grass and stole up to the very wall of the cabin and dared to peer in at a crack.
There were Valerian, with his fierce eyes blazing, and a dark, wildly beautiful girl in doeskin loinclout and beaded moccasins, and her blackly burnished hair bound back by a gold band, curiously wrought. And there were half a dozen Schohiran renegades …sullen rogues in the woolen breeches and jerkins of fanners, with cutlasses at their belts; three forest-runners in buckskins, wild-looking men; and half a dozen Gunderman guards, compactly-built men with yellow hair cut square and confined under steel caps, corselets of chain mail, and polished leg-pieces. They were girt with swords and daggers …fair-skinned men with steely eyes and an accent differing greatly from that of the Westermarck. They were sturdy fighters, ruthless and well-disciplined, and very popular as guardsmen among the landowners of the frontier.
Listening there, we heard them all laughing and conversing. Valerian was boastful of his escape; the renegades, sullen and full of oaths and curses for their former friends; the forest-runners, silent and attentive; the Gundermen, careless and jovial, which joviality thinly masked their utterly ruthless natures. And the half-breed girl, whom they called Kwarada, laughed and plagued Valerian, who seemed grimly amused. And Hakon trembled with fury as we listened to the boasting of Valerian:
“… getting out was as easy as cracking an egg. But, by Mitra, I’ve sent a visitor to that cursed Thandaran traitor that shall do his proper business for him! And when I shall have roused the Picts and led them across the border to smite the rebels from the west, while Brocas attacks from Coyaga, all his kind shall get their just deserts.”
Then we heard a light patter of feet and hugged the wall close. The door opened, and seven Picts entered, horrific figures in paint and feathers. They were led by old Teyanoga, whose breast was bandaged, whereby I knew my shaft had but fleshed itself in those massive muscles. And wondered if the old demon were really a werewolf which could not be killed by mortal weapons as he boasted and many believed.
We lay close there, Hakon and I, and heard Teyanoga say in broken Aquilonian:
“You want Hawks, Wildcats, Turtles strike across border. If we strike now, Wolf-men ravage our land while we fight in Schohira. Wolf-men very strong, very many. Hawks, Wildcats, Turtles must clasp hands with Wolfmen.”
“Well,” said Valerian, “when will you make this treaty with the Wolfmen?”
“Chiefs of all four tribes meet tonight on edge of Ghost Swamp. Make talk-talk with Wizard of Swamp. All do what Wizard say.”
“Hm,” said Valerian, “ ’tis not yet midnight. If we step lively, we can reach Ghost Swamp in two hours. We shall go forthwith, to see if I cannot persuade the Wizard to induce the Wolves to join the other tribes.”
Hakon whispered into my ear: “Crawl back and fetch the others, quickly! Tell them to surround the hut and to kindle a fire!”
I saw that it was in his mind that we should attack, outnumbered as we were; but so fired was I by the infamous plot to which we had listened that I was as eager as he. I stole back and brought the others. We clustered about the windows in pairs, one man with his bow drawn and another with his axe raised to beat in the shutters. One man was told off to kindle a fire wherewith to burn the hut. As I rejoined Hakon at the front door, I heard the voice of Valerian from within:
“Come on, men! We must be on our way at once.”
Then came the sound of men rising to their feet and securing their weapons and gear. Hakon, aflame with eagerness, fidgeted in the dark while the man who was kindling the flame fiddled with flint and steel and tinder and twigs. At last the ranger had a neat little blaze going, and others thrust branches into it for torches.