Fall of Angels (The Saga of Recluce #6)(168)

"Because then I don't know where Gerlich will attack from," pointed out Ryba. "Oh . . . there's a back path from the canyon to the stable-or a way Gerlich's men will take to try to fire the stables. Find it, and work out the best place for an ambush. That will be a quick way to take out four of his armsmen, and they won't be expecting it at dawn."

Fierral and Saryn exchanged glances.

Nylan slipped past the stairs and headed for the north door and the bathhouse. He hoped that Ryba's visions were correct, but he wasn't about to question her, not when her perceptions had been so accurate so far. And this time, if Gerlich did as she foresaw, there wouldn't be any question of guilt.





CIX



GERLICH HOLDS UP his hand, and the column slows to a halt. The early-morning mist rises out of the trees to the east of the road that continues to climb as it turns northward.

"All right, Ser Wizard," the big man announces. "Get out your glass or whatever you need, and scout out that trail." He points to a gap between the trees on the side of the road. "I want you to make sure no one is on it."

"That's not even a real trail, and it goes right into the mountain," protests Hissl. "What good will that do?"

"It is a trail," answers Gerlich. "I've scouted it, and it curves through this slope and rocky ridge and comes out right behind the tower-inside their watch posts and defenses. And it's close enough so that there's a back way to their stables. You have the map on that, Nirso." The hunter nods to the squat armsman riding behind Narliat.

Narliat's eyes flick from the wizard, who dismounts and eases a padded and leather-covered glass from one saddlebag, to Gerlich and then to the road ahead. His lips tighten.

"Worried, friend Narliat? You have seen what I can do with the blade and bow, and they certainly will not be expecting an attack-especially from here." Gerlich laughs.

Hissl squats on the ground, concentrating on the glass before him, and the mists that appear. After a time, he rises, wipes his forehead, and repacks the glass.

"Well?"

"There is no one on the trail. It is narrow, but I could see no tracks and no horses."

"Good." Gerlich turns his mount uphill, and the others follow.





CX



"FRIED RODENT, AGAIN," muttered Huldran from beside Nylan. "Demon-damned stuff to put in your guts before smithing."

"The rodents serve two saving purposes," answered Ayrlyn with a smile. "Serving them saves other food for the winter, and killing them keeps them from eating the crops. They like the beans and, for some reason, they want to dig up the potatoes. So they also serve who are served."

Nylan hastily washed down a mouthful of fried rodent meat. "That's a terrible pun." He followed his comment with a mouthful of cold bread.

"Oooo," commented Dyliess from the carrypack Ryba wore.

"That's fine, dear," said Ryba, "but you're not the one who has to eat it." Her eyes flicked toward the doorway, again.

Ryba seemed on edge all the time, Nylan reflected, but especially in the morning, as the days had dragged out since Istril had discovered what seemed to be Gerlich's back route to the Roof of the World.

"How soon, do you think?" he asked.

Ayrlyn rubbed her forehead, and Nylan smiled faintly. Thinking about a battle and all those who would need healing would certainly give any healer a headache-at least, he thought it would.

The sound of hoofbeats on the paved section of the road from the smithy to the tower rat - a - tatted in through the open windows to the great room. Ryba stood, unstrapping the carrypack, even before Liethya burst into the room. The young guard glanced toward the marshal and then to Fierral, as if uncertain as to whom she should report.

"I presume the traitor has returned," Ryba said, her voice hard as she eased Dyliess, still in the carrypack, to Nylan.

"There are armsmen on the trail, ser." Liethya's voice trembled slightly.

Fierral stood. So did Saryn.

Saryn motioned. "Stable detail. Let's go." She left the room almost at a run, followed by Hryessa, Jaseen, and Selitra.

Fierral added, "The rest of you to the stables-with full weapons."

All the guards at the tables, except for Istril, boiled off the benches and toward the end of the great room, some hurrying up the stone steps, presumably for weapons and gear, others straight out the main door.

Ryba touched Nylan on the shoulder. He turned, the carrypack unfastened, Dyliess in it and looking wide-eyed at him.

"Blynnal and Niera will take care of the children. Relyn, Siret, and Istril will hold the tower, if necessary. Join us as soon as you can," Ryba whispered to Nylan as he took their daughter. Then she was hurrying for the door as well, picking up her bow and a full quiver from the shelves by the stairs.

"Off to the slaughter," announced Ayrlyn. "Sometimes, I wonder if it will ever stop."

"Not until they destroy us or it's clear we're strong enough to destroy them." Nylan shifted Dyliess into a more comfortable position to carry her.

"Demon-hell of a world," said Ayrlyn with a laugh. She gulped down the last of her cool tea and added, "Just like every other world."

"You're so cheerful."