Heirs of the Blade_ Shadows of the Apt_ Book Seven - Adiran Tchaikovsky [226]
‘And so you lowered yourself to their level, is that it?’ she asked him.
His look was sharp. ‘I learned how easy it is to abuse power, girl. When you’re a soldier without a war, with a bow in your hand and nothing in your stomach, and you meet a man who has food and no bow, with no soldiering in him, it’s easy. He might be a merchant or a tax gatherer or a barge master or some noble’s prize messenger, but he has food, and you’re hungry and you can kill him for it. That’s all it takes. And next time maybe you don’t have to be quite so hungry, and eventually it’s become a way of life to take from others and, though you try to make a living at hunting fugitives or some such nonsense, the time will always come when someone has food and you don’t, and you’ll do it again. We’ve all been there, and now you’ve come to visit.’
There was a pause, and the Grasshopper, Soul Je, carefully added some more wood to the fire. Beyond their scooped-out hollow, Tynisa knew the fickle light would be all but invisible amongst the trees.
‘I don’t want to be your leader, and I don’t want to be a brigand,’ she said, and had to fight down a part of her that did. The ugly, violent thing that had driven her this far would relish it: somehow it seemed that one could have the same honour in killing thieves for a prince as killing princes for the benefit of thieves – so long as there was blood. She shuddered.
‘Then you’ve no need to share our fate, win or lose,’ Dal pointed out.
‘I . . .’ The world was out there, dark and harsh and unforgiving, and she had once again excised herself from it. If she left the company of these ragged creatures, then she would have nothing at all.
Perhaps Dal saw something of the truth from her face, for he did not press the issue.
There was a rustling above, and immediately all hands went to swords and knife hilts. It was Mordrec, though, squeezing in to take up all the available space, and with a bundle in his arms.
‘Just where we left it,’ the Wasp confirmed, slightly out of breath. ‘Glad we listened to you, now. Never thought we’d be coming back this way, myself.’
He unfurled the oilcloth, spilling out a meagre collection of knives, shortbows and an untidy stack of arrows. None of it looked like good workmanship, but the brigands helped themselves gladly, so that all of them save Mordrec now had a bow and at least a few shafts.
‘Any sign of their scouts?’ Soul asked.
‘How the pits should I know?’ Mordrec hissed back. ‘They can see better than I can. I just concentrated on keeping my head down, all the way.’
Tynisa sighed. ‘I’ll go look.’
They regarded her doubtfully, and at last Dal Arche said, ‘One of us, then?’
‘And not your leader,’ she insisted firmly. ‘I need to get away. You need to get away. I’m willing to bet that they want me more than you.’
That had to be explained for Mordrec’s benefit, and the Wasp goggled at her. ‘Shame you didn’t go report to the old woman before you sprang us,’ he said. ‘Could have wiped out the whole family. Make the Rekef proud.’
She glared at him, but the words hit close to home.
‘What’s the plan, then?’ asked Mordrec, settling down. ‘I reckon we’re a few points off the compass, but that’s just runner’s instinct. You got a plan now, Dala?’
The Dragonfly nodded slowly. ‘I reckon the reason they’ve not caught us already is because most of their people headed south, thinking we’d just repeat our dash for Rhael. As you’ve noticed, we’ve made best time by going due east, instead. Now they’ve got airborne scouts and cavalry, so they’ll catch our trail soon enough, and it’s only a matter of time before they overhaul us. Not many options for us, then. Too few of us to make much of an impression if we stand and fight. We could scatter, each to his own, and some of us would likely remain free, and others would be hunted down like beasts. That has an appeal to it, if only because it puts our enemies to the most trouble. However, I’ve a third way, if you want to hear it.’
‘Speak,’ Soul Je prompted.
‘We just hope