Slowly and ponderously, Moriana rose from the side of the fallen Warden.
'He's dead,' she said. 'What's the meaning of this senseless murder?' A look of pain crossed Sternbow's angular face. 'No murder,' Fairspeaker put in quickly, 'to shoot a fleeing felon.'
'Felon?' Moriana's eyes blazed. 'How can you call him that? He was a victim held as a slave by the Zr'gsz.'
One of the Watchers moved to touch her arm.
'Save your breath, Lady. These are the very hounds of the Hissers set to hunt us down even as Ludo foretold.'
'But they're men,' she said, stunned. The Watcher's chuckle was as dry and bitter as an old root left in the searing desert sun.
'On behalf of our ally the Instrumentality of the People I hereby place you under arrest for aiding and abetting the flight of prisoners of war,' Sternbow said formally. 'Am I not your ally, as well?' demanded Moriana.
'The wise Sternbow takes cognizance of the fact that you have been an ally of the foresters,' said Fairspeaker. 'Yet he is also well aware that relations between Thendrun and the Tree go back to a time long before the name of the Princess Moriana was ever heard in the Great Nevrym.'
'Don't you understand? The Hissers turned on me – turned on us. They helped me capture the City, then they wrested it from me. They mean to drive all humans from the Realm. They've freed the Demon Istu to help them do it!'
Shaking his head, smiling sorrowfully over human duplicity, Fairspeaker looked to Sternbow.
'Honored sir, is it not clear that she has had some falling out with our friends the People and means to turn us against them with these fanciful tales?'
Sternbow's already thin lips disappeared in a pensive line. Moriana's pulse raced. She had touched him with doubt. She could tell.
'Father.' A stocky young man, face wreathed in golden ringlets, pushed his way into the draw to stand beside Sternbow. 'She's telling the truth, can't you see? I've told you repeatedly we can't trust those lizards.'
Fairspeaker laid a hand on Sternbow's shoulder, squeezed reassuringly.
'A sad burden it must be to you,' he said softly, 'that your son Snowbuck has not learned the meaning of faith among friends.' Sternbow shook himself free of the hand.
'We waste time here,' he grated. 'Brookrunner, Stagsnarer, disarm the princess and Longstrider.' Fost and Moriana stood in stony silence as the Nevrymin relieved them of their weapons.
More torches were lit. The Nevrymin, a score of bow and swordsmen, ranged themselves around their captives and began to drive them back down Omizantrim's rocky slope. Above them the mountain rumbled to itself, and a brimstone smell stung their nostrils.
'Do those boorish forest dwellers all have doubled names?' Erimenes demanded from his jug. 'Frogbaiter. Leafeater. Shitkicker.' He produced a decidedly unphilosophical snort. 'Absurd.' 'They seem to know you, Fost,' Ziore said hesitantly.
'Indeed they do.' In spite of their predicament, a lopsided grin appeared on the courier's face. 'In fact, they gave me the name Longstrider.'
With neither gentleness nor excessive force, the foresters guided them around a seething fumarole.
'Ah, well, of course, there is a certain bucolic charm to the custom of bestowing two-part descriptive names,' said Erimenes loudly, his wavering form peering down into the fumarole. 'In fact, I once composed a monograph on…'
A loose rock turned under Fost's foot. Moriana caught his arm, steadying him.
'How did that come to pass?' she asked, cutting off the philosopher's nervous word flow.
'Lawless men plotted together to assassinate our king,' said a forester walking nearby. 'The outwood courier learned of the scheme and went to warn Grimpeace. Though he couldn't match the woods-craft of the rebels, he was able to outpace them and reach our king in time.' He spoke without looking at the captives and he continued to hold his bow relaxed but ready. 'In reward for the feat, the King in Nevrym bestowed upon him the forester's name Longstrider.
'It is indeed a pity that one who so nobly served the interests of our king should now place himself in opposition to noble Grimpeace.' Fairspeaker had materialized out of the night. The forester clamped his bearded jaw tight and kept trudging through the lava flows.
The former village of the Watchers was awash in torchlight. Armed Zr'gsz, torpid with the chill, milled about the compound without apparent aim. An officer in feather helmet emerged from what had been the Watchers' assembly hall and held a vigorous discussion with Sternbow. The Hisser spoke in sibilant, garbled human speech augmented by violent gestures. Fost and the others were too far away to make out what was being said, but as far as the courier could tell the reptile was determined the escapees and those who had helped them should be put to death immediately. His only point of uncertainty was whether they should be speared where they stood or flung into the lava pits, thereby saving wear on obsidian spear tips. Fost did think Fairspeaker added his voice to Sternbow's in arguing they be speared. He found it cold comfort, somehow.
At last, Fairspeaker lowered his voice and, shaking his head with the lugubrious regret of an inquisitor ordering his assistants to crank the rack a few more turns, said something that caused the Vridzish officer to turn moss green and immediately begin issuing orders with even more histrionic gestures.
Sternbow strode to where the captives stood. He had to make his way through a mob of lower caste Zr'gsz surrounding the prisoners in unmoving, silent ranks. Somehow their silence, their apparent lack of emotion, seemed more threatening than a display of hostility. Fost saw little approval on the Nevrym leader's face as he pushed aside the scaled bodies.
'The Vridzish officer was adamant that you pay full price for your crimes.' Though he stopped a foot behind Sternbow, Fairspeaker quickly thrust his presence to the fore. Sternbow showed no sign of irritation at being pre- empted. 'But Sternbow, whom all know as a merciful and just man, prevailed upon him to let you live.' Fair-speaker shrugged slightly. 'For a time, at least. The People are much outraged by your treacherous defection, Princess.' 'My defection?' She held her anger back with visible effort. Sternbow locked his gaze on Fost's.
'You were a loyal friend to the Forest,' he said. 'I hope this breach can be healed.' 'So do I.'
The compound gates swung open. The Hissers made quick, menacing jabs with their spears. The prisoners were marched into the lava rock walled pen. 'Wait!' cried Erimenes as the gates started to swing shut.
Fairspeaker appeared in the gap between the gates.
'Why should we wait, friend spirit? I judge you are another bottle-bound shade, such as the one known to accompany the Princess Moriana.'
'Yes. I mean no! I'm not like that vacuous creature at all. I'm much, much wiser. And I know many things that might interest you.
Things your masters would give a great deal to learn.' An eyebrow arched.
'My masters, eh?' Fairspeaker pursed his lips, nodding to himself as he meditated. Then he bobbed his chin. 'Well, there's no harm in listening to you if you wish to speak.'
He gestured. A pair of Hissers approached Fost with the curious sporadic movement of their kind, their spears at the ready. Fost plunged a hand into his satchel. The Vridzish stopped, pointing the spearheads at his heart. He ripped Erimenes's jug from the pouch and flung the red clay vessel onto the hard-packed earth at their feet. Unfortunately, it bounced.
'Really, Fost, such petulance ill-becomes you,' Erimenes sniffed. 'I could never abide such a poor loser. Come then, Fairspeaker, let us converse.'
'Let us, indeed.' The young man accepted the jug from a clawed hand.
'I must confess the smell in that sty was quite revolting,' Erimenes said as Fairspeaker walked out cradling the jug in one arm. 'Say, you're a strapping young fellow. Are there any lively wenches in the vici -'
The gates slammed shut.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The air in the prison compound lay like a thing dead, hot and still and decaying. Upslope toward the rear slit,
