“Good so far,” Starfall mused. “But you can’t get all of them with traps. So?”
“So the man-traps themselves form a channeling-trap. Tomorrow when we set everything up, we’ll be leaving one easier direction - here.” He drew a sweeping arrow toward a patch of green moss. “They’ll come out into the clear, with no place to go for cover and a ravine at their back. It ought to be no difficult thing for the hertasi to pick them off with bows.”
“And at any rate, by the time the survivors struggle back to the village, the rescue should be long over. I like it.” Starfall nodded decisively.
“Even if the mage at the village can communicate with the fighters out here, they won’t be able to get back in time to do him any good. It’ll be the middle of the night, and the woods will be full of hertasi with knives and traps just waiting to be sprung.” Snowfire nodded, feeling very pleased with himself. “And to avoid leaving a trail back here to the encampment, we’re going to try to get the villagers across the bridge and take them downriver to that Kelmskeep place Dar’ian told us of. I think if anyone follows us, it will be that way, and I hope there will be a force to meet us from the Valdemarans.”
“I have sent a message to Lord Breon of Kelmskeep, that reached the place today,” Starfall confirmed, but then frowned. “The thing is, I do not know if it will be heeded or even seen by the man himself.”
“How did you send it?” Snowfire asked.
“A written message, delivered by raven to the gatekeeper this morning; Raindance saw it through the bird’s eyes. She said he seemed startled.” Starfall shrugged. “It took the bird this long to reach Kelmskeep; the best we can hope for, I think, is that an escorting force meet you on the way.”
Snowfire sighed, well aware that the Adept was right. Best to count on what they had, not what they hoped they would have.
“Well, I leave all the magic doings in your capable hands,” he said.
“And I will leave the rest in yours.” Starfall stood up and stretched, and walked back into the center of the clearing, where he took his seat again and closed his eyes. A moment later, the containment shield had sprung up around him. Snowfire whistled to Hweel, who was still gossiping with the cooperi, and the great owl launched himself into the air to follow him back to the main encampment.
:What were you two chattering about?: he asked his bird. :You don’t usually have that much to say to the day birds.:
:Mates,: Hweel said shortly, then elaborated. :He may be young, but he has a mate. He has two fledges this year, now flying strong.:
Snowfire sensed that there was more. :And?: he persisted.
:They come, all five. His mate, mine, three fledges.: Hweel’s mind-voice was tentative, as if he was afraid that Snowfire would object to the arrival of his mate and young.
That was the last thing on Snowfire’s mind. Although he wasn’t bonded to Hweel’s mate Huur, she worked with Hweel so effectively when she wasn’t tending youngsters that he might just as well have been. And having a clumsy fledgling around wasn’t a bad thing as long as you could keep the youngster close to the camp.
:I’ll be glad to see them,: he replied, and sensed the relief in Hweel’s mind. :lt was clever of you to have his mate come with yours; the fledges will have protection by day and night on the journey.:
Hweel huured, a contented little sound of pleasure from which his mate got her name. He liked being praised, and he had greatly missed his mate, so knowing that Snowfire would welcome her arrival made him doubly happy.
It would be no bad thing to have a couple of unbonded birds along with the expedition either. They would make excellent camp guards, and if the unthinkable happened and someone lost a bird, there would be possible replacements at hand.
Enough; concentrate on the immediate problem, he reminded himself. He needed to collect Darian and some paper and a charcoal stick; it was time to make a detailed plan of how to get into and out of the village.
He’d left Darian about to take his turn in the bathing pool; by now the boy should be clean and ready for something to eat. Snowfire was terribly proud of him, for Darian had worked as hard as any of them, and had mastered his frustration admirably when someone didn’t quite understand what it was he wanted for a trap. The boy had matured a great deal in the last week, though it was clear every so often that he was still a boy.
When this is over - he needs some time to play and be young, Snowfire concluded to himself. But right now, well, none of them could afford to be anything other than mature and responsible.
He collected more meat and bread from the stores; the berries were gone, but when Ayshen heard who this next meal was going to, he pulled Snowfire aside and passed him a honeycake surreptitiously. “The hatchling didn’t get enough the last time I made them,” Ayshen said, as if daring him to challenge the statement. Since Snowfire had seen Darian stuffing himself with the coveted sweets, and knew Ayshen knew he had, it was clear that the hertasi had taken very strongly to the boy.
“I’ll make sure he knows who sent it,” Snowfire replied, and carried the treasure off. He’d seen Ayshen watching the boy out of the corner of his long eye; evidently this was the hertasi’s way of rewarding hard work.
He met Darian on the path, hair damp, dressed in fresh clothing. “Here, I brought you something to eat,” Snowfire said, holding the napkin out to him. “There’s a honeycake in there from Ayshen.”
“There is?” Darian looked as pleased as if it had been a lump of amber. “I love Ayshen’s honeycakes! Where can we go so I can eat, and help you with those maps of the village you wanted at the same time?”
“Let’s try the council clearing,” Snowfire suggested. “There’s a game place there that no one is going to be using tonight. We’ll have a drawing surface there.”
Darian nodded, his mouth already full of bread and meat. He followed Snowfire to the clearing and at the far side Snowfire took over the game place, a flat sheet of rock balanced on a stump that served as a table, and two more stumps, one on either side of it. He took the taller of the two, and Darian took the shorter, as he spread out the first sheet of paper and took out a scribing rod. “All right,” he said, making a diagonal line for the bank of the river. “Here is the riverbank. Let’s start there.”
“Put one edge of the forest here, and one here,” Darian suggested, pointing with a sticky finger. “And the bridge would be here.” He devoured the last crumb of his cake and licked his fingers clean while Snowfire sketched. “Right, now put the back edge of the forest there. The road goes from the bridge to the center of town, and stops there. Here’s the mill, with the waterwheel there. There’s the forge.”
Snowfire was agreeably surprised at the lad’s clear and precise ability to remember and place everything in the village, but there just weren’t enough adequate areas of cover to sneak a number of people in without getting caught.