“We have encountered a few of these Keshians. They are determined fighters.”
“Keshian Dog Soldiers are not known for cowardice. Occasionally their leaders are, but if they’re ordered to fight to the last man, they will.”
“If we catch this man, we avoid a big fight?”
“Yes,” said Jimmy.
“Then we shall have to catch this man.”
“At first light we leave,” said Jimmy. He gathered his cloak about him and said, “Wake me just before.”
Akee and his men spread out along the base of the cliff. Erik said, “What’s the best way to proceed?”
They had carried bundles of weapons and dry clothing wrapped in oil-treated canvas, swimming the route Erik had previously discovered. The plan was to get to the top of the cliff in the darkness, and just before dawn, Subai’s Pathfinders, as well as a few dozen Krondorian regulars, would make as much noise as possible at the far end of the defenders’ wall, hoping to make them think the Kingdom forces were attempting to circle the barricades on the hillside. They would retreat as soon as engaged, with Subai and his Pathfinders climbing the steep hillside and up into the mountains. Once past this barrier, they’d start their journey along the western slopes of the mountains, making their way to Yabon. The Krondorians would retreat with a lot of noise, apparently in disorder.
The hope was this would allow the Hadati and Erik to slip in behind the defenders and reach the gate. If they could get it open, Greylock promised they only had to hold it for two minutes. He had two companies of cavalry, light bowmen who could cross the gap in less than two minutes, and a company of one hundred heavy lancers, who could sweep behind the line and clear the wall of defenders.
From above the cliffs came the sounds of men shouting as Greylock’s probing attacks were withdrawn. The defenders had been dealing with them since noon, and as the sun set, Owen was quitting the attacks. Erik prayed the attacks had kept the defenders busy enough not to peer over the cliffs. Otherwise there might be a very nasty reception waiting for them at the top.
Akee looked upward and said, “Pashan is our best climber. He goes first and carries a cord. If he reaches the top, we will tie the cord to a rope and he will pull it up.” With a slight smile, Akee added, “Even you should be able to reach the top of the cliffs with a rope to hang on to, Captain.”
Erik said, “I am flattered by your confidence in me.”
The man named Pashan took off his weapons, the long blade most Hadati carried over their backs, and the short blade carried at the belt. He was short, compact, and his arms and legs looked powerful. He stripped off his soft buckskin boots and handed everything to a companion. He took the light cord and carefully coiled it around his chest and shoulder, so he wore it like the plaid most Hadati wore when sporting clan dress. The bulk of it trailed behind him to a coil resting on the sand. Akee had instructed the men to be careful it uncoiled without any hitch, lest Pashan be pulled off balance by unexpected resistance.
Pashan adjusted his kilt and started to climb. Erik glanced to the west. The sun had set a few minutes earlier, and now they were watching a brave man carefully scale a cliff face in failing light. It would be dark before he safely reached the top.
The minutes dragged by and upward the man climbed, each hand and foot moved carefully, testing the grip or footing. Like a fly on a wall, he moved slowly upward, slightly to the right of his starting point.
Erik was amazed. At first he was twenty feet above, then thirty, then forty. At fifty feet he was a third of the way to the top. He did not stop to rest, and Erik decided that hanging on the face of the rocks was no more rest than climbing would be. At no time did Pashan’s rhythm change. A step, a grip, a shift of weight, and up he would move.
As darkness descended, it became more difficult to see him moving among the rocks. Erik lost sight of him in the inky shadows between the rocks, then he caught sight of movement; Pashan was now two-thirds of the way to the top of the cliffs.
Again he vanished into the gloom and the minutes dragged by. As the night deepened into darkness—no moons would rise until near dawn this night—finally the cord began to jerk up and down.
“Tie the rope,” instructed Akee.
The remaining cord was cut and tied tightly around the end of a much heavier rope. When it was secured, they tugged three times firmly on the cord. Pashan rapidly pulled the rope upward.