As he paused, he considered what he had just seen. It was impossible to imagine what the Pantathians gained from the priest’s slow torture of a human woman. He had no doubt that eventually the priest would kill the woman, and her head would join the others on the pile as her body went to nourish the young.
He wished for a moment that Nakor had been along, for the strange little man who claimed not to believe in magic seemed to know more about it than just about anyone Calis had met. He might make some sense of how this ritual torture and slaughter tied into what he feared might be occurring with the Emerald Queen and the Valheru artifacts of power.
Calis hurried through the darkness.
Without conscious thought, he started counting steps and measuring distances with his hearing, and he hoped that he’d find his company where he had left it.
De Loungville almost leaped when Calis touched his arm. He spun around to hear a familiar voice ask, “Where is everyone else?”
“Captain!” de Loungville said. “I was about to say a brief prayer to Ruthia and a small testimonial to Lims-Kragma on your behalf, then get the hell out of here.
“Now I can sit down and die of a burst heart!”
“Sorry I startled you, but I couldn’t tell who it was here in the dark, and it smelled like you but I wanted to be sure.”
“Smelled like me . . . ?”
“It’s been a while since you’ve had a bath, Bobby.”
“You’re no bunch of roses either, Calis.”
“Have you a torch?”
To answer, De Loungville struck steel to flint and set a hot spark into the treated cotton wadding wrapped on a stick. The flame started modestly but spread quickly, and by the time de Loungville held it up, they were bathed in a pool of light.
“Call me mother, but you look a fright,” said de Loungville. “What did you find down there?”
“I’ll tell you when we’ve put some distance between us and it. Which way?”
“We found a passage used by some serpent men, so I put Greylock in charge and sent the men in the other direction, to the left.”
“Good: that should mean they’re on the surface by now. If we hurry, we can overtake them before they get too far down the hillside. We’re a lot higher up than when we came in the tunnel, Bobby.”
“And a lot farther from where we want to be than we were when we started,” responded de Loungville.
“We’d better hurry. We have a long way to go.” Softly Calis added, “And I fear not that much time to get there.”
21
Attrition
Erik ducked.
A shower of darts flew through the air and bounced off his shield as he tried to keep low to the ground. Since leaving the cavern and moving down through the hills to the grasslands, Nakor and Sho N had both claimed they were being observed.
When they had finally reached an area of broken rocks, islands of limestone, shale, and granite that broke up pools of tall grass, a sudden attack of the Gilani had greeted them. Six men died in the first assault, which was barely driven back by the heroic efforts of those in the forefront.
Greylock had quickly organized the defense, and the struggle had gone on for nearly a half day. Two more men had died as they retreated up the hillside, looking for this defensive position. Praji and Vaja had moved to the front, and were in council with Greylock as Erik approached.
“I’ve got everyone situated as best I could, Owen. We’re taking a beating.”
“I know,” came the calm reply. He looked at Praji and said, “Any idea why they hit us?”
Praji shrugged. “We’re here and they’re Gilani. They don’t like anyone who isn’t Gilani, and we’re about to enter the grasslands. That’s their range and they’re trying to tell us to keep off.”
“How’d the damn grass get so tall this time of year?” asked Greylock.
Vaja said, “There are some that grow in the winter and others in the summer, and they are all mixed in down there, is my guess.”
Putting aside his frustration, Greylock asked, “Is there another way out of these mountains?”
Praji shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. Even if I knew exactly where we were, I’ve never traveled this way. Few men from the Eastlands have.” He looked around. “I’m guessing if we could get over the ridge”—he pointed upward at the highest peaks of the mountains—“we might be able to make our way down to the Satpura River. Maybe make some rafts and get down to the coast near Chatisthan. Or we could move back up into the foothills, staying high enough so the Gilani don’t come after us, and could head south, see if we can find a way to the river Dee and follow that down to Ispar, but I don’t recommend that course.”
“Why not?”
“That would take us through the Great South Forest. Not a lot of people get through there alive. Rumor has it that’s where your Pantathians hole up, and it’s where tigers that talk like men live . . .” When Greylock looked at him with disbelief written on his face, he quickly added, “But that’s only rumor.”