Erik could hardly credit what he heard. ‘Nothing left?’
‘Some people hid, and others just lived too far away to bother with, so there’s someone living down there. But most of those we left behind were dead, Erik. There are no cities left, and only a few towns with a building standing. If a farmer lived enough distance away, he might have a crop, unless those fleeing the cities ate it. And the sickness . . .’ He sighed. ‘With that many dead, it had to come. Some of our own men got the runs so bad they died from them; couldn’t even hold down a drink of water in their stomachs. Others got the black pox. Or some got fevers with no herbs or temple priests around to heal them. It’s pure misery back home, that’s what it is.’
Erik studied the man’s face and saw something in his eyes he had never seen in a soldier before. There was a deep horror that had been held in check so long it was not even being acknowledged, and when it at last came to the surface, who knew what might be the result.
Erik put his hand on Duga’s shoulder. ‘There are plenty of living people here.’ Raising his voice a little, he said, ‘And I intend to see they stay that way.’ Smiling, he added, ‘Even if they’re a bunch of scruffy mercenaries too damn far from home for their own good.’
Duga’s eyes widened slightly as he searched Erik’s face, then he nodded once, and turned away quickly, to keep Erik from seeing the moisture gathering in them. To his own men, he shouted, ‘Look lively, then, we’ve got to show these Kingdom lads how to be properly scruffy mercenaries.’
That got a laugh from some of his men, though most of the Kingdom soldiers didn’t understand the dialect he spoke.
Now the camp looked much as it had when Erik had encountered it, save that more than half the men were Kingdom soldiers, and a squad of thirty bowmen was lurking in the trees just out of sight to lend support.
On the third day after the surrender, a sentry reported riders approaching from the south.
‘Get ready,’ Erik instructed his men.
Duga’s mercenaries moved with the slow confidence of bored soldiers, while Erik’s men kept swords and shields very close to hand. In the trees the archers made ready.
A few minutes later three riders entered the clearing, each dressed in a traveling robe. The leader threw back his hood and revealed a man of middle years, with grey-shot black hair. ‘Who leads?’
‘I do,’ said Erik.
‘What company?’ asked a second man.
‘Duga’s Black Swords,’ answered Erik.
‘You’re not Duga!’ said the first man.
‘No, Kimo, I am.’ Duga stepped forward.
The man named Kimo said, ‘He claims to lead.’
Duga shrugged. ‘We got bored waiting for you. He challenged me, and won.’ He made a show of rubbing his jaw. ‘Look at the size of him. Damn near broke my head. So, he’s in charge.’
‘What’s your name, “Captain”?’ asked Kimo.
Not knowing why, Erik answered, ‘Bobby.’
‘Well, Bobby,’ said Kimo, ‘your orders are to take your men west from here. Three days’ march, you’ll come to a small valley with a village in it. Leave that village alone. Don’t let them even know you’re here. Move past it at night, and head up into the mountains. Find a river that feeds that village, then follow it upward until you come to a branch. Follow the northern branch. You’ll find a nice little valley with game. We’ve also laid in supplies there. Wait until someone comes for you. When that happens, you must return down the river and take that village.’
Attempting to look confused, Erik said, ‘Why wait? Why not just take the village now?’
The man who had been silent spoke, and the hair on Erik’s arms and neck stood up, for the voice wasn’t human. ‘You are not paid to ask questions, boy.’ To Kimo the creature said, ‘Should we kill this one and turn command back to that one?’ He pointed at Duga, and Erik saw a scaled hand, green, with black talons. He had seen Pantathians before, even killed a few, but he felt relaxed only around the dead ones.
‘No, we have no time for this. There are other companies to find.’ The second man took out a map and started to read it.
Erik didn’t hesitate. ‘Kill them!’
The air filled with arrows, and before Kimo and his companions could act, they were literally lifted from their saddles as arrows struck them. Duga’s eyes widened and he said, ‘Why did you do that?’
Erik crossed first to the Pantathian and kicked it to make sure it was dead. Then he went to the second man, and as he knelt next to him, he said, ‘Because I need this map.’
He studied it a moment; then his eyes widened. ‘Nelson!’ he shouted, and one of his men ran over.
‘Yes, Sergeant Major!’
‘Take two extra horses and go find our men. I want them back as fast as you can bring them. Meet us . . .’ He studied the map a moment. ‘Meet us at the northern bank of the River Tamyth, where it falls. Three days to the east of the road to Hawk’s Hollow.’