'I'm flattered,' the princess said, 'but what was all that bizarre claptrap about our plotting to field our own fleet of skyrafts?'
'I had to tell that rogue Fairspeaker something that would convince him I was truly on their side – and, incidentally, would keep him from bowing to the insistence of the Zr'gsz commandant and allowing you to be killed.' '"Allowing" us – what power has he?' Fost demanded.
'The Hissers realize it is Fairspeaker who keeps their Nevrymin allies allied. And he does have the favor of the Dark Ones. He wasn't lying about that.'
In the starlight it seemed that patches of color had come to Snowbuck's broad cheeks.
'You owe Erimenes a debt, Sir Longstrider, and you, too, Princess,' he said. 'And… and I, as well. For he's made it possible for me to save my father's honor!'
His voice almost cracked the armor of his whispering. He collected himself and clapped the two on the arms. 'We must hurry.' 'Lead the way,' said Fost.
CHAPTER NINE
Sure-footed in the dark, Snowbuck led Fost and Moriana up the arroyo that ran along the western wall of the prison compound. He then threaded his way eastward over the brushy slope of Omizantrim between the fumarole where the Ullapag had kept its vigil and the village itself. The mountain was moody tonight. Its mutterings crescendoed from time to time to a roaring like blood in the ears. Purple lightning played around the summit. Explosions crashed in the crater playing lurid light on the underside of the wide cloud that issued from the mountain's guts.
Fost sensed movement on both sides. He didn't waste energy casting about to see who or what was nearby. He trusted Snowbuck's sense better than his own. It would have been foolish to fall down a hole simply to keep track of unseen friends.
Like Moriana, he ran with sword in hand. Nevrymin had returned their weapons as they emerged from the compound. As dark as the night was, the princess had decided not to string her bow and wore it slung over her back next to a fresh quiver of arrows.
They passed through narrow draws, struggled up slopes where the lava threatened to crumble underfoot at any instant and fling them facedown on the sharp rock, and once hopped across a recent flow that burned the soles of their feet. Luckily, the crust didn't give way beneath them the way the half-hardened lava had when they first made their way to the Watchers' village.
At one point, Fost almost went headlong into the yawning pit of a skystone quarry. He drew a sharp rebuke from Erimenes for his clumsiness. The major drifts and mines lay downslope, which meant the Zr'gsz garrisons and patrols of Nevrymin still loyal to the lizard folk would be concentrated in that direction.
As he scrambled from the pit something flew into his face. He struck at it, thinking it a bat or nocturnal insect. To his amazement it flashed by and continued soundlessly upward, losing itself in blackness. He heard Snowbuck chuckle softly.
'Skystone,' the youth explained, then pushed on, using the dark brush that grew upslope to pull himself along.
'How in hell's name does the stuff ever get deposited?' Fost grumbled.
'I believe,' answered Erimenes, 'that it is a component of the magma extruded through the crater to become lava. As it flows down the mountain it rises to the top of the flow. Yet it adheres to the heavier stuff of common lava, which holds it down until it cools.' 'Is that true?' 'How should I know?'
The moons poked up into the eastern sky. Both were past full. The light made it easier for any pursuers to see them but also made the going quicker. As they put what Fost's experience told him were miles between them and the Watchers' former village, the courier began to believe they might actually escape.
Then a figure detached itself from a tall, dead tree at the top of a razorback of lava and stood looking down into their surprised faces.
'So,' said Sternbow, 'my own son.' He shook his head. 'I hardly believe it.'
Snowbuck scrambled the rest of the way up the slope to stand beside his father. More figures rose out of the wasteland, drawn bows in hand. Fost groaned. He was already thoroughly sick of this routine. 'I must speak with you, Father,' Snowbuck said. 'As man to man.'
Sternbow looked around. Fost wondered where his faithful shadow was. Sternbow's words told him.
'Fairspeaker became separated from the party as we made our way to wait for you,' he mumbled. 'He should hear this.'
'No!' Snowbuck's voice rang loud and clear above the volcano's growl. 'He should not hear! Or are you no longer capable of listening for yourself, Father?'
Sternbow raised his hand to strike his son. Snowbuck held his ground. The tall forester chieftain let his hand fall to his side and seemed to shrink an inch.
'It may be that I cannot.' His words were barely audible. 'But it is high time I learned once more. Speak.'
'Father, the…' he began but was interrupted by a cry from behind. 'Snowbuck!'
At the sound of Fairspeaker's voice, Snowbuck spun, hand dropping to sword hilt. He was half around when an arrow struck him in the left temple. Snowbuck jerked, then dropped to one knee.
'F-father,' he said. His eyes rolled up into his head and he fell, lifeless.
Sternbow uttered a warning cry of rage and grief and desolation. For a moment, the mountain fell silent as if to mark the enormity of his loss. He raised his eyes to Fairspeaker on a hill fifty feet away, a bow held loosely in his hand.
'I came just in time, great Sternbow.' The young man sounded out of breath. 'Another instant and the faithless young pup would've.. .' Sternbow tore forth his broadsword and flung it at Fairspeaker.
Paralyzed with disbelief, Fairspeaker stood and watched as the blade spun toward him. The whine of split air was loud in the awful silence.
At the last possible instant, Fairspeaker flung himself to the side. He was too late to save himself completely. The sword tip raked his cheek, opening it to the bone. He screamed shrilly and fell from view. As he did, a line of flame crackled from Moriana's fingertips. A bush burst into orange flame where he had stood.
Across the black nightland Nevrymin faced one another across drawn swords and levelled spears. A few Watchers stood with hands high, dazed by the course of events. One by one each turned until all faced Sternbow.
The tall man knelt on the unyielding stone, cradling his son's head in his lap. A thin trickle of blood, black in the moonlight, ran from the wound and stained his breeches. Slowly, he raised his head. He had aged ten years in one tragic minute. 'After him!' he cried. 'Hunt down the traitor Fairspeaker!'
With a roar, the Nevrymin turned from confronting one another and raced off into the night. That was an order most of them had longed to hear for some time. Sternbow rose to face Fost and Moriana.
'Apologies will not suffice for what I've done, so I will not offer them,' he said. He composed himself visibly. 'You are free to go. I wish I could call you friends, but I will not presume. O Snowbuck, you saw far more clearly than I!' His head slumped to his chest and tears flowed down his bearded cheeks, bright silver rivulets in the moonlight.
'What of you?' asked Moriana, reaching out to touch the man's quaking shoulder. He raised his head with effort.
'Fairspeaker was – is – not alone in feeling that our interests and those of the Hissers lie along the same path. But I think the men of my band will be with me. We'll organize the surviving Watchers, wage hit-and-run war against the mines. It's a kind of war my men understand. The Watchers should learn quickly enough.'
He looked down at his son's body. Snowbuck lay partially on his side with one arm crossed over his breast and the fingers of his right hand still grasping the hilt of his half-drawn sword.