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into woods maybe full of mud-men. We are several days ahead of any other
possible reinforcements from the east, and also well ahead of any return
messengers. No one knows we re coming, no one knows we re here including the
malice.
Dag controlled an urge to pace, grasping his hook behind his back and rocking
slightly instead.  I have one time seen a malice this advanced taken down, at
Wolf Ridge in Luthlia. The younger patrollers around the fire blinked and sat
up; a few older ones nodded knowingly, gazes growing more intent.  The
strategy had two pieces, though the way it played out was partly accidental.
While the most of us held the malice s mud-men and slaves and attention in
open battle up on the ridge, by way of diversion, a small group of patrollers
good at veiling their grounds slipped up on the lair. There were eight pairs
in that group, and each pair carried a sharing knife. Orders were, if anyone
went down, their partner didn t stay by them, but was to take the knife and go
on. If any pairs went down, the same with their linking pairs. The reverse,
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Dag and everyone listening to him was aware, of the usual patrol procedure to
leave no one behind.  When enough patrollers got close enough to the malice to
risk a rush, they did. It had been down to four survivors by then, Dag had
been told later.  And that was the end of that malice. But not of the
cleanup, which had gone on for months thereafter.
 With a malice that strong, didn t they risk getting their grounds ripped?
asked Dirla. And if it was in fear, none could tell, for her voice did not
quaver, and she had her groundsense well locked down.
 Some did, said Dag. Bluntly, without apology.  But I think we can try a
similar strike. Whatever resistance is forming up right now south of Bonemarsh
Camp, trying to protect Farmer s Flats, gets to play the part of the company
on the ridge, overwhelming the malice s concentration. We here  Dag unlocked
his hand and gestured around the campfire  will be for the sneak attack. You
were all picked for your groundsense control.
 Not Saun! complained Dirla. Saun flushed and glowered at her.
 No, he s our walking map. And someone s going to have to stay with the
horses. Dag cast Saun an apologetic look; the boy grimaced but subsided.
 And the rest of the company? asked Obio Grayheron, one of the remaining
patrol leaders.
Dag gave him a short nod.  You ll give us a half-day start. At which point it
will either be over or command will pass to you and you ll be free to try
again, try something else, or circle to join forces however you can with the
Raintree Lakewalkers.
Obio settled back, digesting this unhappily.  And you re going with& well.
Yes, of course.
Going with the veiled patrol,Dag finished for him. Because Dag was well-known
to be one of the cleverest at that trick in camp. Which begged the question,
in his own mind if not theirs, whether he had chosen this strategy because it
was the best they could do, or because it played to his personal quirks. Well,
if the gamble paid off, the subtle self-doubt would be moot.And also if it
doesn t. You can t lose, old patroller. In a sense.
Saun was shoving shallow furrows in the drying mud with his boot heel. He
looked up.  A little cruel on the folks fighting the retreat toward Farmer s
Flats. They don t even get to know they re the bait.
 Neither did most of the folks up on Wolf Ridge, said Dag dryly. And, before
Saun could askHow do you know? continued,  Saun, Codo, Varleen, you re all
familiar with Bonemarsh. Stand up and give us a terrain tutorial.
A customary task; Dag stepped back, the local knowledge stepped forth, and
the other patrollers began pelting them with variously shrewd questions as the
precious parchment maps were passed around, and annotations scribbled in the
dirt with sticks, rubbed out, and redrawn. Dag listened as hard or harder than
anyone else, casting and recasting tactical approaches in his head, glumly
aware that nine-tenths of the planning would prove useless in the event.
There was enough brains and experience in this bunch that Dag scarcely needed
to guide the detailed discussion from here; two bad ideas were knocked down,
by Utau and Obio respectively, before Dag could open his mouth, and three
better ones that Dag wouldn t even have thought of were spat forth, to be
chewed over, altered, and approved with only the barest shaping murmurs on his
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part. Mari, bless her, took over the problem of coaxing sharing knives from a
couple of patrollers who were not going with the veiled patrol, as there were
six pairs but only four knives among those here assembled. They even sorted
themselves out in new partner-pairs before the group, growing quiet and
thoughtful, broke up to seek their bedrolls. Dag hoped they would all sleep
better than he seemed likely to.
He rolled on his back in his own bedroll, thin on the cold, damp ground, and
searched the hazy sky for stars, trying to quiet the busy noise in his head.
There was no point in running over the plans for tomorrow yet again, for the
tenth, or was that the twentieth, time. He d done all he could for tonight,
except sleep. But when he forced the roiling concerns for his company out, the
ache of missing Fawn crept back in.
He d grown so accustomed to her companionship in so few weeks, as if she d
always been there, or had slotted into some hollow place within him just her
shape that had been waiting for years. He d come to delight not only in her
sweet body, awakening appetites he d imagined dulled by time, age, and
exhaustion, but in the way her shining eyes opened wide in her endless
questions, that determined set to her mouth when she faced a new problem, her
seemingly boundless world-wonder. And if her hunger for life was a joy to him,
his own, renewed, was an astonishment.
He considered the dark side of that bright coin uneasily. Had this marriage
also reawakened his fear of death? For long, his inevitable end had seemed
neither enemy nor friend, justthere, accepted, to be worked around like his
missing hand. If a fellow had nothing to lose, no risk held much alarm, and
fear scarcely clogged thought. If that indifference had given him his noted
edge, was that edge becoming blunted?
His right hand crept across his chest to trace the heavy cord wrapping his
left arm above the elbow, calling up the reassuring hum of Spark s live
ground. Indeed, he had something to lose now. By the shadow of his fear, he
began to see the shape of his desire, the stirrings of curiosity for a future
not constrained and inevitable but suddenly containing a host of unknowns,
places and people altogether unimagined,unconceived in all senses.Blight it, I
want to live. Not the best time to make that discovery, eh? He snorted
self-disdain.
Instead of letting his thoughts chase one another back around the circle, he
folded his left arm in, rolled over around the absence of Spark, and
resolutely closed his eyes. The summer night was short. They would head due
south at dawn.And make sure your body and your wits are riding the same horse,
old patroller.
10
Three days gone,Fawn thought. Today would begin the fourth. Was it over, was
it even begun, was Dag s company there yet? Whereverthere was. Somewhere to
the west, yes, and he was still alive; so much her marriage cord now told her. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]