The Wizardwar - Elaine Cunningham [59]
Chapter Ten
Four men rode northward through the rugged Nath, following the faint, twisting trail left by a dry streambed. Although all four were Halruaan and all were clad in the jordaini garb of white linen, it occurred to Matteo that he and his friends presented a strikingly diverse group.
Iago, the small, slight man who led the way, had seen well over thirty summers, at least ten more than the three men with him. Themo was the youngest, a bluff, cheery giant who was still in many ways more a youth than a man. Andris was taller than most Halruaans and wiry rather than muscular. His coloring was unusual: auburn hair, hazel eyes, and freckled skin that refused to burnish in the sun. Hints of these colors remained, despite Andris's mysterious transformation during the battle in Akhlaur's Swamp. Despite all, Matteo still considered Andris the best jordain he knew.
Yet nothing resembling brotherhood passed between Andris and the other two jordaini, who'd accepted the ghostly jordain's presence only after much argument and under protest. Even Themo, who had counted Andris a boyhood friend, had little to say to him.
As they neared the battle site, the expression on Iago's face changed from wary to grim. He reined his horse back and fell into step with Matteo's steed.
"I understand the need to trace Kiva's path. Andris has cause to know it better than any other, but perhaps you should consider his true purpose in bringing us here."
"Andris is still a jordain," Matteo said quietly. "He follows our code. I would stake my life on his word."
"And ours as well," Iago grumbled.
Eager to change the subject, Matteo turned to Themo. "You have not spoken of your plans. What will you do, now that you've been released from jordaini service?"
The big man gave him a fleeting grin. "I'd like to survive this trip." He lifted one shoulder in a shrug and gestured to the jordaini garments he wore out of lifelong habit Truth is, I’m feeling more adrift than I expected to. The only thing I know is the jordaini order."
"The world is too wide for a single man's eyes to take in," Matteo observed.
"Just so. I don't need someone to do my thinking for me, mind you, but it's easier to think things through if you have some sort of reference point. Maybe I’ll join the militia."
Matteo nodding approvingly. "There is great need for such as you."
He would have said more, but Andris placed a translucent hand on Matteo's arm. He pointed to a small muddy patch of ground just off the path, almost obscured by a tumble of rocks. There, barely discernable from horseback, was a faint footprint.
Matteo signaled a halt. He slid from his horse and went over for a closer look. The print was long and narrow, most likely a woman's foot, and the boot sole showed signs of repeated repair. A faint smear of blood appeared on a rock nearby, as if the traveler had stumbled and caught herself. Most likely, someone already wounded and weakened had passed this way, and recently. Neither the blood nor the muddy print was completely dry.
"Crinti stragglers," Matteo said softly. "Keep your weapons at hand."
Iago shot a disgusted look at Andris. "So much for his jordaini honor!"
Shrill, ululating battle cries rose from a dozen hiding places, coming at them from all sides and echoing off the surrounding mountains.
"The floodgate clearing," Andris said urgently. "It's nearby and gives our best hope of holding out against so many."
"How many would that be?" retorted Iago. "How large an ambush have you arranged?"
No one heard his objection, for they were already riding hard on the heels of Andris's mount. Iago kicked his horse into a run, following the other jordain up the steep, narrow path created by the streambed and into a clearing.
Andris leaped from his horse and put his shoulder to a large, rounded boulder. Themo came to help him. They rolled it into the opening made by the stream, and then piled