where they would be massively outnumbered by the Liskash.
Every eightday, he met with Hress Rscil and the incoming scouts personally, and received updates from his advisors. He would not move until he knew conditions were right, but then he’d strike like lightning to exploit the opportunity.
Today, he had both a spy from Afis’s domain to the west, north of the Liskash, and the scouts from the coast. He waited on Seer Ingo, while Nef sprawled on his bench and stropped his claws. Annoyed, Nrao reached out one of his own claws and dug it into the post between the boy’s. Nef flared his ears back, nodded and sat up.
“That is better,” Nrao Aveldt said. “Now, pour wine for the guests.”
“Yes, Father,” Nef Esnrao said. He might be young, but the trappings of courtesy came easily to him. He should make a good leader one day.
Refreshments and a casual atmosphere, Nrao Aveldt found, made information more forthcoming. Some rulers demanded strict formality and adherence to rank. He was first among them, and deserving of respect, without the need to be ego-fluffed. When all were served, he sat among them, his pupils spread wide to show friendliness and interest.
Sicht, the spy, wore well-made harness, as befitted his position as one of the trade ministers to Afis’s holding. He was comfortable enough with Mrem of status, and politely took a drink and a sweetened meat chew, pounded with honey and dried frusk. They were unhealthy, but delicious.
The two scouts were politely subordinate, but their smell and the proud set of their ears said they knew they were trusted to report honestly. Hril Aris and Flirsh Arst brought out their notes, and stood to consult with Seer Ingo. The old male unrolled his larger map, cut from the whole hide of a draft-bred arosh stretched out, and the three gathered to mark it. Nrao sat back enough to let them work, while watching.
Shortly, Ingo glanced up at him. “The flooding of the warm lands is causing more rains, and dampening the hills. They are green with growth. It has drowned many Liskash and those Mrem who were passing through.”
No Mrem chose to stay in what had been stale and hot lowlands. But through that desert had been the shortest route to the rich, open lands in the south. Nrao’s father had led the clan through, though not without losses to the heat-loving Liskash that thrived there.
The scout’s tail flipped with concern, flapping against two startled spies behind him. He seemed to not notice. “The water has come quickly enough that that great lords there are broken, but thousands of Liskash fled ahead of it. They can only reinforce those who were already trying to destroy us.”
Nrao Aveldt let the tip of his tail lash as well. “Obviously we must stop that before it commences.”
Hril, as senior scout, said, “The rise is measured in handspans a day, but it has spread over a huge area, and periodically inundates a depression with great force. Everywhere as it rises and the rains come the land is thick with muck because nothing has time to grow where once there was desert. The water slows, but still claims more land every day. Some days the waters are calm, then it suddenly rises quickly and pushes deeper inland, only to pull away again. But each time it remains over more land.”
The scout’s concern was obvious as he finished. “We searched every direction and route. Deep water blocks every path back to the lands of our ancestors. It would have taken days to run at the narrowest point. But there is no crossing the swirling sea that covers those routes now. To sleep near the water’s edge is dangerous. One scout who ventured too far out into what we thought were shallows was pulled away by powerful, hidden currents. No more clans will come to reinforce us: no one can cross. Those of us south of this new sea are alone.”
Nrao Aveldt had never seen a sea. He would have to correct that. He did understand there were plants that grew submerged, vicious reptiles in the depths, and even primitive animal-like things, fast but edible, near the shore. That was something else to explore. If they lived long enough to explore anything, the clan leader reminded himself, stroking a whisker.
Hress Rscil traced roads and paths on the broad parchment with the tip of a claw. Two disappeared into the new coastline. Three others were very close. All those routes north were broken. That particular bay would have a lot of shore traffic, if they could secure the area. If there were some way to cross it on water…but it was far too broad and stormy.
“Seer Ingo, what about crossing the water at some later time? Can boats be made larger?”
The sage tilted his head in assent. “With heavier timber, yes. We have none now. That might come from the hills as thicker forests grow.”
“I am not worried about it now, but after this campaign, I think it a worthy pursuit for our artificers to ponder.”
“Noted.”
Nef Esnrao, leaning over their shoulders, suddenly pricked up his ears eagerly.
“Father, what of caravans? Should we have more warriors along that route, against conflicts or bandits?”
Nrao was proud of that. “A good question, Nef Esnrao. Most insightful for your age. Hress Rscil?”
The talonmaster nodded and raised his ears. “The caravans can support each other in proximity, and I don’t foresee them fighting, although water could be an issue. But it’s not a bad idea to reinforce the garrison on Steep Slope. They can conduct escorts and patrols. Outpost Master Shlom is one I well trust.”
“Please. I will arrange supplies for you.”
Hress Rscil said, “But this is all temporary. All of us must move, and I concur on doing so soon. The later we wait, the more desperate we will be.” His ears showed his agitation.
“Soon, Hress Rscil. We must be prepared.”
By midday, Nrao Aveldt had updated his strategy and plans with the new information. He offered all parties a lunch of fresh roasted mottlecoat liver with salt and ground sharproot, and gave orders for following spy missions.
It was time to discuss stopping the Liskash mind threat.
The clan leader wondered how the Dancer could look graceful even just sitting. Cmeo Mrist was beautiful and moved with a deadly grace that entranced all males. Nrao Aveldt also reminded himself she was also the second most powerful Mrem in his lands. He wondered what she saw sitting there with even her slitted eyes still as she waited for him to speak.
“Cmeo Mrist, the spies bring me disturbing news. Oglut is the name of the Liskash godling in the east. From reports, he is powerful in his mind magic. He bound even Mrem warriors in the fight.”
She stared at him, subtle changes in posture and a twist of her tail showing she was attentive and clearly listening. He realized Dancers rarely engaged in the skirmishes that his warriors had faced as they moved south.
“Once a warrior is actively fighting with an opponent, he should be intent on the task and not susceptible to distraction. So it has been for generations. Oglut overcame that. My scouts saw him enter a battle against those fleeing the waters and bind the warriors to his mind. The Liskash then turned them against their own clan brothers,”
“I see.”
“That means we must bind them back. Priestess, what can we do?”
Cmeo Mrist sat back and stared at the panel behind him, her black pupils spread so wide they swallowed up the golden irises. He let her do so, realizing the meditation for what it was. He often stared while thinking himself. Hers, though, was much more intense, even to watch. She fingered the symbol around her neck and her eyes slackened, then focused sharply on nothing.
Nrao Aveldt sat still also, not wishing to disturb her. These things worked in their own time.
She blinked and said, “We must strengthen the Dance.”
“Very well. How so?”
“If we have more Dancers, and closer to the warriors, they can exert more power. Distance is very important. The power weakens quickly.”
“Closer, you say. That’s awkward, in a battle formation.” The clan leader twitched his ears.
She said, “Ideally we would need to be in the formation.”
