The main trail up to the Altene was on this near face, Sasha learned from talking to a man who knew the area best. But that face was sheer, and the trail's various bends climbed in clear view of the Altene's windows and towers. Even if they ascended at night, the full moon would surely give away their approach. But at the rear of Dirdaan, he insisted, there was a way up.
“You've climbed it yourself?” Sasha asked him.
The Ilduuri, a wiry man named Eirden with a thick blond moustache, shook his head. “Not me. I've a cousin who climbs. He knows all the climbing trails to these mountains.”
“And he's climbed it?”
“Well, no. But he knows there is a way up.”
“Says who?” Sasha persisted, with growing concern.
“Common knowledge.”
Sasha distrusted common knowledge as much as she did common wisdom. But she kept her dismay to herself.
They passed between Dirdaan and the flank of its neighbour, a narrow pass beneath the sheer drop from the ridge upon which the Altene sat, very high above. It was late afternoon, and Dirdaan's opposite, northern side was in shadow. The peaks beyond, toward the Enoran border, lit up the horizon with sunlit, jagged outlines.
Soon they turned off the trail and through trees in the mountain's shadow. The Dirdaan flank above them was a vertical cliff. Sasha didn't much fancy the prospect of scaling it by daylight, let alone in the approaching darkness.
One of the two scouts ahead came quietly back, and indicated that they should all move off this narrow trail and into the trees to one side. After some moments of silent, cautious approach, they found the second scout by where the trees ended, directly at the base of Dirdaan's cliff.
There was a narrow trail here, Sasha saw, climbing the cliff. Not a natural trail, though it had been carved into natural formations. It wound upward along the sheer rock face, vanishing as it went higher. And at the beginning of the trail, where it reached the ground amidst loose rock and encroaching trees, was a stone guardhouse.
“Did common knowledge have a guardhouse here, too?” Sasha whispered to Eirden. Eirden scratched his moustache, and reluctantly shook his head. Sasha crawled to the first scout. “How many guards, do you think?”
“It looks large enough for five,” said the scout. “I've only seen one, though. He came out the back and relieved himself over the edge.”
The trail was well above them here, as they looked at the rear of the guardhouse. The building made a wall in an arc about the trail mouth, from cliff face to cliff face, with a gate beneath a small, two-person tower. Obviously it wasn't going to stop a determined attack from ten or more men, but that wasn't its purpose.
“I've seen these backdoor guardhouses in Petrodor,” she murmured. “They're only here to slow us down, and usually they have an alarm. Can anyone see a rope or cord running up the cliff face to the Altene? Or perhaps they'll have a loud bell in that tower that can be heard from above.”
No one could see anything. But all agreed that if they were to take this guardhouse, they would have to do it quietly.
“We climb the cliff here,” said Arken, “and get up to the trail, then come down on them from behind.”
“They can see this whole face from the tower,” Sasha cautioned. “If we climb here, we'll have to do it by night. How many of us can do that?”
Arken looked around, then up at the cliff. It seemed very sheer. Sasha had tried climbing such faces herself, with some success-she did not weigh much compared to the men, and was strong for her size, and relatively unencumbered. But this face was four times the greatest height she'd ever attempted, and a fall from above the halfway point would most likely be fatal. The closer to the guardhouse they climbed, the shorter the distance up to the trail, but the more likely the guards would see them, even in the shadow of moonlight.
“We need only one person to reach the trail with a rope and secure it, and then the others can follow,” said Arken. “We need not attack the guardhouse at all.”
“No,” said Sasha, after a moment's thought. “The day is clear, the night will be clear too, and even in the mountain shadow, the full moon will be bright. For twenty-six of us to scale the cliff this close to the guardhouse without being seen is too much of a risk, and if we climb further from the guardhouse, the ascent increases. Two or three people would be less likely to be seen and could take the guardhouse unaware, as they won't be looking back up the trail. And also, if they do have some secret cord to ring an alarm up at the Altene, by taking the guardhouse we can at least know if we were spotted, and thus if the Altene will be expecting us.”
“Those windows look small,” Yasmyn interjected in Lenay, guessing their conversation. “Someone small should go, who could climb easily, and fit through one of those windows.”
“She says she could fit through one of those windows,” Sasha translated to Arken. “I agree. Me, her, and you.”
“Both women?”
Sasha raised eyebrows. “If Yasmyn can fit through that window, I can too. We may need a tall man to boost us up. Who would you pick to do all that?”
Arken thought about it. Then conceded. “Fine. We wait for night?”
“We wait for night.”
That evening, more guards came down the cliff-side trail and replaced the guardhouse watch. There were only three, it seemed. But it only took one to raise an alarm.
Arken was a good climber, the skill well practised by some in the Ilduuri Steel. He went first, and hauled himself up without difficulty. Yasmyn followed, light and wiry, and seemed as unperturbed as Arken.
Sasha watched where Yasmyn put her hands and feet, and found those holds easily enough in the not-quite-dark. But still it wracked her nerves, as the ground fell away below, to know that if she missed a hold, she would be badly hurt. Soon that knowledge changed to the certainty that if she missed a hold, she would die. Her heart thudded hard, and she forced herself to concentrate as though it were a sword drill with Kessligh, watching only for the next move and the next placement of hands and feet. She'd never had a difficulty with heights, and had assumed that would hold her in good stead on this climb. Now she discovered that enjoying a good view from a relatively safe peak and clinging to a cliff face like an insect above a lethal drop in the dark were two different things entirely.
When she hauled herself onto the path, she was shaking. She lay for a moment, winded, breathing deeply, and willing her muscles to some kind of recovery. Then she stood, and discovered with further alarm that the trail itself was not wide enough for comfort during the day, let alone at night.
They descended the trail cautiously, shoulder-hugging the cliff to one side, feet wary of loose stones. It was darker than Sasha had expected, making their footing more precarious, but lessening the chance of being seen. The stone against their sides was dark, like their clothing, and with blades sheathed lest a stray gleam of steel give them away, Sasha did not think it likely any in the tower, looking out into the trees, would notice them.
They descended past the encircling wall, level with the tower. Within the narrow windows, lamplight gleamed, and voices could be heard. Stupid, Sasha thought. Looking out from a lighted room onto darkness made vision impossible. But guard duty was boring, and guards lit lamps when their superiors weren't about, by which to play dice or otherwise pass the time.
Sasha led, padding softly to the base of the short tower, and slowly tried the door. It was open. So much for crawling through windows then. Yasmyn was eager, and Arken grimly determined, so she let them go first, and waited. She was in no mood to kill surprised and defenceless guards. They went up the stairs while Sasha guarded the doorway below. Then a commotion, and some shouts. Then footsteps coming back down.