Days of Air and Darkness - Katharine Kerr [132]
South from Lin Serr ran a proper road, made of paving stones set into thin concrete—the dwarven invention that Deverry men called “dweomer stone.” On this surface, the carters and the axmen alike fell into a fast trot that would have winded a human being after a few miles. Fortunately, on this trip, Garin no longer had to worry about Rhodry keeping up with the march. Far overhead, the silver dagger and his mount circled and swooped, flying some miles off to the east, circling back, flying off to the west again, to keep watch for the shape-changer.
The watch paid off on the morrow morning. After they broke their night’s camp, the contingent had made only a couple of miles when the dragon came flying back. She landed full across the road, forcing a halt. Rhodry slid down and came running to Brel and Garin.
“Ambuscade!” he called out, and he was grinning like a child. “They’ve drawn up next to that narrow bit of road about ten miles from here, the place with all the trees and underbrush.”
“OH, have they now?” Brel said. “Well, we’ll just see who surprises whom.”
“Now wait,” Garin said. “How can mounted men fight in trees? How did they hope to hide their wretched horses, for that matter? What did they—”
“Here!” Rhodry held up a hand for silence. “Let me finish. They’re not mounted, except for a couple of captains. It’s infantry with long spears, disposed on the flat side of the road. It looks to me like they were hoping to pin you against the cliffs on the other side.”
“Infantry?” Garin snapped. “How did they get up here so fast, then? Oh. Ye gods. More of that god-cursed dweomer.”
“I’d wager a fair sum on it.” Rhodry was grinning. “I saw a raven flying some distance off, but it never flew close enough for me to tell whether it was bird or shape-changer.”
“Huh,” Brel said. “Doesn’t much matter. Pin us against the cliffs, eh? Well, I say we pin them between a pair of jaws.”
The three of them hunkered down in the road to draw plans in the dirt with a stick. Brel would lead some three hundred axmen straight down the road as if they suspected nothing, while Garin would take the rest of the men to fall upon the waiting ambush from behind.
“Shouldn’t you lead the rear attack?” Garin said to the warleader. “I’m afraid I’ll botch it. A general I am not.”
“True.” Brel nodded. “But I don’t want you killed right off, Envoy. It’s going to be dangerous, marching right into the trap. That’s my job.”
Garin shuddered, cold in the bright sun.
“Your job,” Brel went on, “is staying alive to handle all the talking and courtesies once we join up with the allies. I don’t like shoveling manure, and I’m no good at it, either. You get our men in position behind the ambuscade, and then you get to the rear. Do you hear me? That’s an order.”
Garin considered arguing. Brel was glaring at him.
“Well, I’m not much of an axman, anyway,” Garin said. “Done, then.”
“Good,” Brel said. “Now, what are we going to do about this blasted sorcerer? I don’t want her giving our game away.” He glanced at Rhodry. “Can you and the wyrm keep her occupied?”
“We can try.”
“Now wait,” Garin broke in. “What if she lures you off into some magical country and traps you there?”
Rhodry started to answer, then merely considered. The dragon swung her head round to join the conversation.
“She’s terrified of me,” Arzosah said, and rather smugly. “I don’t think she’ll want to get close enough to work dweomer. Besides, if she does, I’ll smell it.”
“Umph,” Garin muttered. “Well, I don’t know—”
“Garro,” Rhodry broke in, “there’s no such thing as a war without risk. Doesn’t much matter if it comes from magic or a blade, does it?”
“It matters to me,” Garin snapped. “I don’t know why, but it does. But I’m not the dragonmaster here, and besides, I honestly don’t know any other way to keep the witch from spying.”
All morning, the First Regiment, or rather, the five hundred men, human beings all, who were left after the Keepers had imposed the discipline of counting out and the long spear, crouched in their ambuscade. The land sloped up from the