"Will he live?" Volias asked.
Joss began to shake his head, and realized that Volias was asking about Peddo. "If we get him back to Clan Hall before he bleeds to death, and if there's no infection, he just might. That man there, he's a Silver."
"Yeh. I didn't touch him. He's the only one of that kind in the group."
"Strange. Usually they travel together with their own kind."
Joss tossed an extra coil of rope to Volias, then strode over. The wounded man saw the movement and tracked him with his gaze. He even tried to smile as Joss knelt beside him.
"Ah-ah-thought no one would come."
"We did, but it didn't help much."
"It is enough," whispered the Silver valiantly. His face was sheened with sweat, and his lips were losing color. A stink roiled out of his exposed guts. Behind, Peddo's whistle shrilled as Volias blew it to get Jabi to settle and come in.
"Must get the message through," croaked the Silver.
Joss took one of the Silver's hands between his own. The man's skin was cool, and getting colder as the life drained from him. "What message?"
"Shefen sen Haf Gi Ri. My house-sent me with these others. The four of us. Sons of the Lesser Houses-in Olossi. And these eight guardsmen-brave men."
Joss looked the man in the eye to aid him in keeping his focus as he struggled for words. He did not interrupt. The dying man didn't have much time. Nor did the reeves. Out beyond the watchful eagles, the wolves were circling.
"Dissent, disagreement, in the council. The Greater walks hard upon the Lesser, although there are more of us-among the Lesser. We should be heard. Trade to the north has stopped. The Greater Houses say-to be patient-but we-the others of us-the Lesser Houses-we wonder-what is going on. So we sent this group-we four to carry the message. Nokki from Three Rings. Myself. Two from the guilds, Kavess and Aden. Also the eight guardsmen, brave men." Like the wolves, he was circling, back to words he had already spoken.
"What is your message?" Joss prompted. In this moment, the world was dead to him, all emotion fled and the wind and the smell of battle fading away because he must hear the words that this man was trying so desperately to speak.
"Two. There are two messages. Why has trade stopped? Where are our caravans sent north last year? Why does no trade come out of the north? Show us support."
"Have you asked the reeves of Argent Hall to help you?"
"They can't hear us," said the Silver cryptically, and he went on so quickly that Joss dared not stop him to ask that he explain himself. "Two-the second message. Emergency! There are ospreys hunting on the Kandaran Pass, and along West Spur. Attacking caravans, this season. Now. Right now. Captain Beron of the border guards is no help. He claims he needs more guardsmen. He claims… he needs support of Olossi council, of Argent Hall. We of the Lesser Houses… we would give aid, more guardsmen, pay for it… but the Greater Houses remain silent. They refuse to listen to our voice. They no longer trust us. The wolves are circling, cutting us off at both ends. They mean to choke us. Who?"
His hand clenched Joss's hard, as though a jolt had passed through him, as though he had found his strength and might actually live. "Who wants to choke us? Who will help them? Who will help us?"
The hells!
The effort of speaking had sucked the man dry. He went limp as the breath of life fled. His destiny, his fortune, to end here, on the West Track, about five mey from safety. If the town of Horn would have offered these men a safe haven.
And the wolves were closing in, damn them all to the hells.
Joss released his hand, tucked in the fraying ends of the man's headdress, and twisted the bracelets off both arms. He cut a length of silk off the man's jacket and wrapped the bracelets up with a twist knot. Rising, he checked the positions of his allies and his enemies.
Jabi had his wings spread wide, and he wasn't happy, but he held still as all the eagles were trained to do when their reeves were wounded. Volias hooked Peddo into the harness and tied him in tightly with Joss's rope, checked the bandage, all with a remarkable lack of concern about that vicious beak and those talons a mere kiss away from his head.
The wolves were circling, getting bolder, and one man seemed to be lining up a trio of archers far enough away that they could pester the reeves with arrows. Joss counted his dead and dying: all twelve of the Olossi men, and fourteen scruffy outlaws. He searched through the corpses for the guildsmen and the other merchant, who would wear an identifying mark on their clothing.
"Joss!" called Volias.
"Go on!" called Joss to him. "Take Peddo north to Clan Hall."
"We've got to get back to Clan Hall!" yelled Volias. "Now. Those damned wolves are going to come after us in about three breaths."
Joss lifted both hands. "We've got to follow this up. Bandits on the Kandaran Pass. The West Track unsafe for merchants. Something's definitely wrong at Argent Hall. I'm flying south to see what I can see. Tell the Commander to send a flight south to meet me at Olossi."
"Stupid shithead," said Volias. "Don't you get tired of it?"
"Tired of what?"
"Always having to be the one who goes in first. Ah, the hells! Never mind." He let Jabi go, and leaped back. The big eagle lifted with a shriek. Volias gave a call with his own whistle and, when Trouble fluttered over to him, hooked into his own harness.
"You got a good haul off that Silver!" he called, as a parting shot. "The dead will make you rich!"
"Go devour yourself," shouted Joss, "since no one else will!"
There, at the end, with the nub of their dislike spoken baldly, Volias actually laughed. "I hate men like you, so easy with the women!" He said something more, but the words were lost as Trouble lifted in a gust of wings.
An arrow skittered over the ground. The wolves were testing their range. Joss counted ten that he could see, one limping. Five had bows, always the greatest danger to the eagles. Joss stuck his bone whistle to his lips, and the blast of sound shuddered over the carnage as if it might shiver all those ghosts to rest. Scar, already strung tight by the presence of the lurking bandits, by the fight, and by hunger, flew straight at him, leaving Joss barely enough time to turn his back as the eagle landed with a massive thump just behind him. One-handed, he fastened into the harness, and then they were up, Scar beating with powerful strokes until he found a thermal and caught it.
Up and up they rose. Below, the scatter of wagons and dead and dying men looked like a child's toys thrown carelessly about. The wolves dashed in to ransack the wagons and the dead men. After them would come the vultures; a pair glided past, already on the hunt for fresh carrion. Tomorrow or the next day, perhaps, those four children would come to glean through what remained.
The other two eagles were already high above, slipping into a northward glide. Far off to the west, Joss spotted another creature in the sky. At first he thought it must be a vulture, but it moved with the wrong motion. It was not even flying as an eagle did, rising and gliding, but beating steadily. Scar kekked, seeking direction.
Joss considered the distant flyer, already fading from sight. Scar took no heed of it, and Joss hadn't time to investigate a bird that Scar deemed unworthy of notice. Anyway, he had to keep his attention on the urgent matter at hand.
"South," he said to himself, and signaled with the jess.
They left the battle scene behind, quickly out of sight within the rolling, golden landscape, the high plains grasslands that stretched to the southern horizon. That was the way of a reeve's life. You had to leave it behind. If you did not, it ate you up from the inside out.