Erik had his sword out as Biggo stepped forward. “We found a spy,” he whispered.
“How could you be sure?” hissed Erik, his heart pounding as he returned his sword to the scabbard.
“I’m pretty sure no one’s called you von Darkmoor since we met up with this lot, but I damn well know no man’s called the Captain by name since then.” Erik nodded. Strict orders had been passed not to mention Calis by name. “How would he know who you were?”
Erik’s heart sank. “I didn’t even notice.”
Biggo grinned in the faint light. “I won’t tell.” He picked up Dawar’s body and hoisted it across his shoulder.
“What are we going to do with him?” asked Erik.
“Why, we’re going to take him back to the camp. It wouldn’t be the first drunk carried out of here by his friends, I’m certain.”
Erik nodded, picked up the fallen wine cups and bottles, and motioned for Biggo to leave. Erik set the cups and empty bottle down next to the door and hurried after the large man.
For a tense moment Erik expected a challenge at the gate, but as Biggo had predicted, the guards thought nothing of one drunk cheerfully carrying another back to the camp.
They rode out at first light. Erik had told de Loungville and Calis of the encounter with Dawar. They had disposed of the body down in a wash, not too far from their campsite, making sure it was fully hidden by rocks. There had been a brief discussion after that and Calis had said whatever they chose to do, they’d do it far from the Saaur and the other mercenaries.
The only attention they received as they got ready to depart was one Saaur warrior who came down to ask what they were doing. De Loungville merely repeated they had been ordered to rejoin the host and the warrior grunted and returned to the fortress.
As Calis had suggested, this fortress was as much for keeping deserters from heading south as it was to keep the main army’s flanks free from attack.
At noon, while the men rested and ate trail rations, Calis told Erik to get five of the men from Nahoot’s company and bring them over to where he waited with de Loungville. When they appeared, Calis said, “One of your companions, Dawar, got into a fight last night over a whore. Got his neck broken. I don’t want to see any repeat of that stupidity.”
All five men looked baffled, but nodded and left. Another group of five was brought up to Calis, then another. At last the final four men were fetched to Calis and he repeated the admonishment. Three of the men looked blank, but one of them tensed at news of Dawar’s death and instantly Calis had his dagger out at the man’s throat.
De Loungville said, “Take them away,” to Erik as he and Calis, with Greylock, led the man away to be questioned.
As Erik escorted the two men back down the line, several of the men asked what was going on. Erik said, “We caught another spy.”
A moment later a scream cut through the air, from behind a small rise some distance away. Erik looked over while the scream lingered, and when it ceased, he let out his breath.
Then it started up again, and Erik found every man looking off at the ridge. A few minutes later, de Loungville, Calis, and Greylock returned, all with grim expressions. De Loungville looked around and quietly said, “Get them mounted, Erik. We have a lot of ground to cover and little time to do it.”
Erik turned. “You heard the sergeant! Mount up!”
Men scrambled and Erik found the sudden motion a release. The sound of the spy dying under torture had set his nerves on edge and made him angry. The sudden movement seemed to lift that anger from him, or at least give him a place to focus it.
Soon the column was moving, heading toward the main array of the Saaur and the assault on Maharta.
23
Onslaught
Erik blinked.
Acrid smoke filled the air for miles, making it difficult to see any distance. Stinging wind carried the smell of charred wood and other less aromatic victims of the widespread fires.
Nakor rode back to where Erik brought up the rear. “Bad. Very bad,” he commented.
Erik said, “I haven’t seen a lot that wasn’t bad in the last week.”