Kel laughed, a deep, rumble. “In fact, my frrriendsss, we could let them marrrch unhinderrred and make a night-camp - and rrremove theirrr sssentrrriesss one by one. Sssi-lently, if posssible.” He examined his talons critically, and held them up, shining redly in the firelight. “Think of the consssterrrnation when the next watch came up, but the onesss to be rrrelieved werrre - poof! Gone!”
Snowfire looked up at him sharply, with one brow raised. “You,” he said severely, “are an evil creature.”
:I like it,: Tyrsell countered. :That would be a place where we could be useful. It is no difficult thing for one of us to come upon a man silently and unseen.:
“I like it, too,” seconded Ayshen. “We might be able to help there, if we aren’t too tired from swimming. Three or four of us could swarm a sentry, and he’d never hear or see us coming.”
“If we did that,” Windshadow pointed out. “If we triggered the deadfall, set up the traps, and left the harrying to our hertasi and dyheli allies, we could go in that same night and get the villagers out. Even if the barbarians have a way to get messages back and forth, it won’t do them any good. The leader in the village is going to be preoccupied with clearing the blockage, not watching his back, and the leader in the expedition is going to be busy with shadow-fiends picking off his men one by one.”
“That would also be dividing our forces,” Snowfire objected, then sighed, and scratched his head. “No, it wouldn’t really,” he corrected himself. “The hertasi would be of limited use in a raid on the village, and the dyheli would serve only as targets.”
:True, and I would refuse that assignment if you were to give it to me,: Tyrsell replied calmly. :This plan plays to all our strengths. Perhaps Kel could come with us?:
“I can go along as well,” Nightwind offered. “Tyrsell ought to command the group, but I’m not bad with a bow, you know. Kel and I could work together.”
Snowfire looked as if he was thinking about the proposition very hard, and finally nodded. “It’s the best division of labor,” he agreed. “And the best use of the limited number of fighters we have. Dar’ian can tell us and show us what to do, and once the traps are all in place, we can set the plan in motion.” As Darian looked up at him anxiously, Snowfire patted his shoulder reassuringly. “That will take no more than half a week. Surely your friends can hold out for a few days, can’t they? I know they were being mistreated, but they weren’t in any danger of being handled brutally, were they?” Darian wasn’t certain, but he nodded anyway. It won’t do any good to rush in there before we ‘re ready, he reminded himself. A few more beatings aren’t going to make that much of a difference. Even if it does make a difference - this is better than their alternatives.
“It’s settled, then.” Snowfire said decisively, then shook his head. “I wish there were another way, but there doesn’t seem to be.” He pointed to Wintersky and Windshadow. “You two go scout with your birds and make us some good maps of the area tomorrow; figure the best direction to herd the barbarians, and where to get them to make a camp, after we block their path behind them.”
The Hawkbrothers nodded, and Snowfire turned his attention back to Darian. “Now,” he said. “About those traps. . . .”
Hours later, hands still smudged with charcoal, Darian stumbled back to the ekele, thinking longingly of bed. He stopped just long enough to wash his hands and face before stripping off clothing that still smelled of horse, getting into a clean set of night clothes, and lying down on the pallet. He was keyed up enough that he didn’t really think he’d be able to fall asleep quickly, but he was either better at relaxing or much more tired than he thought, because he didn’t even remember closing his eyes.
He woke as Snowfire and Wintersky came in, whispering about something, and propped himself up on one elbow to blink at them. “I’m awake,” he called softly. “Anything I should know about?”
“We just worked out tentative placing for your traps, and ways for the hertasi to trigger them,” Snowfire told him, raising his voice to a more normal level. “I didn’t expect you to be awake, but I’m glad you are. You made all the right choices today, and you deserve credit for doing so.”
“Right choices?” Darian repeated, puzzled.
“Oh, you could have gone charging right into the village, thinking you could free your friends, but you didn’t,” Snowfire said, his voice muffled in the folds of his shirt as he pulled it over his head. “You stayed long enough to make detailed observations, then you came straight back here. You didn’t waste time with accusations and carrying on when you got here, you simply told us what you knew and then offered constructive suggestions. In short, Dar’ian, you behaved in every way as a man and a warrior, and I am very proud of you. We all are.”
Darian felt his neck heating up and averted his eyes. “Ah,” he stammered, “thank you. I - I don’t want anything bad to happen to anybody, and - “ He gulped, and decided to tell the rest of the truth. “The horse brought me out on the top of the bluff, not down at the edge of the village. If I’d been closer, I probably would have done something stupid. But there was no direct way down from there, and, well - that’s probably why I stopped to think.”
“You still made the right choices.” Snowfire sat down on his pallet, blinking at him with eyes that looked as large and dark as Hweel’s. “That is an important thing for you to know.”
“Heyla - it’s going to be an early day tomorrow, and the night is only getting shorter for all your talking,” Wintersky pointed out, a little crossly. “We do not all fly owls, here.” He was already lying on his sleeping pad, and he glared pointedly at the mage-light above Snowfire’s head.
Snowfire chuckled, and the light blinked out. “Good night, Wintersky,” he said. “And good night, Dar’ian.”
“Hmph,” Wintersky replied, mollified. “Good night.”
“Good night,” Darian said softly. He lowered himself back down onto his pillow, and the next thing he knew, Wintersky was shaking his shoulder, and it was morning.
The day wore on, filled with explanations and examples of trap placement and construction. Around him, there were the sounds of wood being chopped, branches split, and snippets of conversation in Tayledras. Darian caught himself feeling like he was playing, once, while he bent and notched saplings for lashing-traps. He felt a pang of guilt, since after all he was engaged in acts of war, to cause pain and even death to those who had done the same to his village.
My village? I suppose they are, when all is counted up. They weren’t the people I would have chosen to be with, but they were better than - alternatives.
Yet, making traps was at least something familiar, from a better time in his childhood. It brought back wistful memories of his parents.
He sighed, thinking about them while he tied off his fourth or fifth lasher, then hacked away steadily at a branch as thick as his upper arm. Things would have been so much better if they were here with him now. His mother always seemed to know the right things to say, or how to touch in just the perfect way to put him at ease. His father was always so strong and capable, with a quick smile.