Allavin was puzzled. “For a camp?”
Another Shae from the group shook his head. He had gray eyes with green edges. “No, it’s in the middle of a marsh. I’ve never understood humans anyway. We wanted you to look at it. It’s peculiar…even for your race.”
“Show me what you found then.”
Tiryn nodded and beckoned with a hand signal. Allavin slipped next to him, watching the quick play of their fingers as the orders were passed out. The quiet way they could talk with their hands had always impressed him. This particular group of Shae were among the best trackers in the western rim of the valley. Tiryn motioned for one of his scouts to take the lead.
A single scout darted into the trees ahead, his longbow held low and level with a steel-tipped arrow already nocked. Tiryn motioned again and the other two took to the flanks. It was a masterful tactic, Allavin thought with a smile. The leader couldn’t see the first man, but he could see the other two who both relayed information back to him in surreptitious hand gestures – a silent language for a clever people. Allavin was taller and broader across the shoulders than the average Shae, but he moved with a practiced step, mimicking their own and set an arrow in his longbow as well. His worn leather shooting-glove felt comfortable and snug on his hand and wrist and he curled his main fingers around the string, letting his knuckles wedge the arrow into the groove.
They crossed the woods at a swift pace and came upon the swamp Tiryn had mentioned. It was a wet tangle of scarred cedars, uncontrolled vine maple, and matted nets of marsh grass. Wilt and moss grew over drooping branches and tinted the huge boulders with flecks of green and black. The air was heavy and wet and smelled like a sodden cloak that hadn’t been laundered in a month. Allavin cleared away a silky net of spider webs, feeling its unseen strands across his beard. A thick canopy of entwining cedar limbs blocked the sinking sun, veiling the swamp with patches of gray. Sweat beaded up on his forehead and his armpits were soon soaked. The moors were always humid.
Tiryn held up his hand, and Allavin stopped. It meant that the Shae scouts had also stopped. He listened, straining to hear past the whir of roach moths. The leader nodded, gesturing. He turned to Allavin.
“Jerrinwey crossed a warding.”
Allavin squinted, confused. “A warding is… magic, isn’t it? I’ve never understood all the meanings of that word.”
Tiryn furrowed his brow, thinking. “In your language then. A warding is magic. Crossing one, for us, is a little like passing beneath a waterfall without getting wet. We can feel even a broken warding. They leave a smell…or a taste.”
Allavin looked at Tiryn. “Is the warding Forbidden magic?”
“The warding isn’t. But Jerrinwey smells Forbidden magic ahead. The Bandits are using it.”
Allavin nodded. He had expected that. “I’ll go closer. Don’t risk your patrol, Tiryn.”
The Shae smiled. “You are our brother, Allavin. The paper kings will listen to you.”
Allavin returned the smile. The Shae called the Kingdom of Dos-Aralon the paper kingdom because of the treaties they liked to sign. It was a good joke, because the Shae sold them the ink. He nodded to Tiryn to move on and the Shae motioned the others to go deeper. Through the mesh of leaves, their boots sank into a small rivulet of murky water cutting in front of them. Tiryn froze after stepping past it, hand on his heart. He swallowed and composed himself, looking back at Allavin in assurance, before continuing after the others. He’d obviously felt the warding too.
Allavin felt nothing save the damp heat. But the Shae were different in that respect too. They could taste and smell magic in all its colors and shades. Aside from the whickering noises of insects, he heard the quiet rush of a small waterfall and stream.
Tiryn held up his hand and made a gesture of alarm. Jerrinwey hears them, he said with his hands. We are close.
Crossing another dozen paces, Allavin heard it too – the chugging sound of shovels through mud, sinking and slopping. As one, they moved towards the noise. Soon the sound was joined by heavy grunts, and Allavin saw the dim fringes of lantern light ahead through the swamp choked with thimbleberry bushes and witch-thorn. Allavin wiped the sweat from his mouth with the back of his hand and stared ahead. He saw the other two Shae in position, watching the workmen in the middle of the swamp.
Tiryn beckoned Allavin closer.