"What?" Lewan blinked, not sure he had heard Sauk correctly.
"I have no arrows for you," said Sauk. "That would have roused suspicion."
"You're… you're letting me go?"
Sauk took a medallion out of his shirt and pulled off the necklace from which it hung. He held it out to Lewan. "Go fast. Wear this until you're at least five leagues from the mountain, then bury the damned thing and keep running. If your god favors you, maybe you can make it far enough before…"
Lewan looked at the medallion. It seemed rather plain, almost crude, the edges uneven. Engraved in the middle of it was the image of a broken ram's horn. "What is it?" he asked.
"It will keep the mountain's guardians away from you," said Sauk. "And it will keep the Old Man from seeing you until it's too late for him to do anything about it."
"What about Talieth?"
"Leave her to me."
Lewan could tell by the flatness of the half-orc's eyes that confronting Talieth was not something he looked forward to.
Lewan did not take the medallion. He looked at the half-orc and asked, "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why are you helping me escape?" asked Lewan, because he wasn't sure the half-orc was. That talk that Sauk and Talieth had together before they left the Fortress-what had that been about? Was this some sort of test? If Lewan took the medallion and started walking, would Sauk cut him down? Or would he watch him go, that sly smile on his face, then summon the tiger? Lewan remembered all too well the corpses in the garden, and at least one of them had been mauled and torn apart by a tiger.
Sauk lowered the hand holding the medallion and shrugged. "Why? That's not hard. Talieth's plan has failed. Our one hone was finding Kh-er, your master, and that druid's relic he carried. But your master's dead."
"She hopes that I will be able to use Erael'len's powers," said Lewan.
Sauk snorted. "I mean you no insult, Lewan, but you are just a boy. It was a fool's hope to think that even your master could help us. Given years of study and training… who knows? I think I see a hunter's heart in you." He looked at the mountain top. "But we don't have years."
"That's it?" said Lewan. "You mean to send me on my way while you go back to die? That's your plan? That's what passes for honor with you? Some sort of noble death?"
Sauk looked down on him, an amused look on his face. "Nothing noble about death, boy. Death means you lost. If I die, I'll die fighting, and the Beastlord will greet me with my enemy's blood on my teeth."
They looked at each other in silence for a moment, then Sauk held out the medallion again.
"Here," he said. "Put leagues behind you before dark."
Lewan looked at the medallion, then up at Sauk. "I can't," he said.
"Why?"
"It's… complicated." Lewan stared at the nearby stream, at the sparkling of sunlight on the water.
Sauk's words had stung him. You are just a boy, A fool's hope. Was he right? Was Lewan a fool to think he had any hope in learning Erael'len's secret? Still… I think I see a hunter's heart in you. Lewan thought that was as close to high praise as the half-orc ever came. Would he ever be anything more than a scared boy if he ran now? Even if it was a fool's hope, he had something else calling him back to the fortress.
"Women are complicated," said Sauk.
Shocked that Sauk seemed to have guessed his thoughts, Lewan looked up at the half-orc. Sauk grinned and shrugged. "There are many secrets in the Fortress of the Old Man, but who is sharing whose bed is seldom one of them. You think you love her, but you don't. That feeling you're feeling isn't love. It's just the excitement of the first legs you've ever parted."
Anger rose in Lewan, and he stood. He'd intended to face Sauk, but even as he came to his full height, he found himself looking up at the half-orc's chin, and fear joined his anger. He swallowed, took a deep breath, and said, "You don't know what you're talking about."
"No?" Sauk smirked.
"No."
Sauk looked down at the medallion in his and sighed. "Your death is on your own head, then. I tried. One thing, though." "What?"
"Best not to tell Talieth of this conversation. I did you a kindness with the offer. Now do me one and forget my offer. Agreed?"
Lewan felt a pang of pride that he managed to hold the half-orc's gaze. "You're afraid of her," he said. It wasn't a question. "Damned right I am," said Sauk. "You should be too."
Chapter Twenty-Three
What was the little fool doing? Sauk wondered.
He'd found a good spot-a ways uphill from the boy, well-shaded by a large larch, but still with a good view of where Lewan sat next to the pool. Taaki was off to Sauk's left, settled and comfortable in a patch of soft sand beneath an overhang of the mountainside that offered her a wide view of the entire stretch of wood. Sauk couldn't see her, but through the bond he shared with her as a zuwar, he knew right where she was. He could've pointed to her like a man with his eyes closed could point to the noonday sun.
Afternoon was turning to evening, and the air up on the mountain had turned cool. Still, the boy hadn't moved in a long while. After Sauk had left him and settled in to watch, Lewan had stripped off his boots and clothes and bathed in the pool. The way the boy moved in the pool and ladled water over his torso with his cupped palms had more the look of ceremony than a true washing. This struck Sauk as nothing unusual. Most faiths had rites of ceremonial cleansing-his included, though the Beastlord's worshipers slathered themselves in blood more often than water.
Sauk knew that earlier that morning, Talieth had ordered servants into the gardens with a list of things to gather- acorns, mistletoe and holly leaves, a sprig of oak leaves. So early in the season, the acorns had been the most difficult, but they had found them at last in the tangled maze of greenery that grew round the base of the Tower of the Sun. Since the old druid had taken up residence there, all sorts of odd things grew in and out of season.
Sauk watched as Lewan sat, still naked, at the water's edge and used a stone from the stream to crush the acorns and some of the leaves. He then dipped three fingers of his right hand into the greenish-brown concoction and painted a series of symbols on his forehead, the backs of his eyelids, across both lips, round his heart, and the patch of skin between his navel and groin. Sauk scowled and muttered, "Damned leaf-lovers."
Lewan then piled a small cushion of young larch needles at the base of the nearest tree, sat on it with his legs crossed and his hands on his knees, leaned his head back against the bole of the tree, closed his eyes-and didn't move for a long while. Sauk sometimes thought he could see the boy's lips moving, but he was too far away to be sure.
And there Lewan sat as the shadows in the wood turned a deeper shade of blue and the cool of evening began to whisper down the mountain. Although he couldn't see them through the trees, Sauk knew that the first stars were skirting the eastern horizon.
A jolt, almost like a muscle spasm, struck Sauk. But this was in his mind, in his heart of hearts, that deep part of his soul entwined with the tiger. Someone was approaching. And not from a distance. Someone was already well into the wood, within an easy stone's throw of the boy. How someone had gotten so close without Sauk-or especially Taaki-being aware of them, Sauk had no idea. It put his hackles up. Sauk sensed Taaki rising from her hiding place and stalking down the slope, keeping to the shadows under the trees.
No, Sauk told her. Easy. Let's see.
Sauk drew his knife and waited. The boy still hadn't moved. If he heard the figure approaching, he'd shown no sign of it.
Sauk saw movement before he could make out any features. Just a different shadow moving through a wood that was quickly dimming to the uniform shade of evening. The figure made no attempt at stealth and moved without haste. Lewan still hadn't moved, though he'd have heard the figure by now-unless he'd fallen asleep.