'We have given our answer,' said the Melski headman. 'Our word binds us. Is that entirely beyond their understanding?'
'They are not entirely without reason,' said Blackwood, 'but they are fated on this journey, for they also have spoken words of binding.'
'To whom have they spoken these words?'
'To each other.'
'Then they can unspeak their words between themselves. We cannot, for our pact is with our blood and the blood of another. We sought only to save our lives -that charred pine on the further shore is the mark of the power he showed us. In this time of danger, you could choose the way of example.'
'I have tried that way. It almost cost me my life.'
'And now the one who sits beside you forces you to talk. Well then, let us talk. Tell me how the families fare in the flow of the Hollern River, for there are years and leagues between us.' i will speak first of Hor-hor-hurulg-murg,' said Blackwood, 'for he was closest always; he bears himself with honour.'
Alish watched Hearst and Blackwood leave the headman's raft and walk back along the jetty to the riverside.
'Well,' said Alish when the two drew near. 'How did it go?' 'No joy,' said Hearst.
'They'll try to stop us,' said Blackwood. 'Even if it means fighting us.'
'Then let's get it over with,' said Alish. 'We'll go through them like a knife through butter. Weil clean them out, take their rafts and be off downstream by sunset.'
'No!' said Blackwood, it would be murder!'
'They're only gooks,' said Alish.
'Mister, I value them as my own.'
'That's nothing to me,' said Alish. 'Come on, Morgan, let's get everyone into position. I want to start -'
'Hold a moment,' said Hearst.
'What's this hold a moment?' said Alish. 'We're sworn to this quest. We have to go downriver. If we have to kill to cut the way clear, we do. The mountains to east are impassable unless we travel by way of Ep Pass – and that lies downstream.'
'There's more than one way to scalp a scat,' said Hearst. 'We can backtrack a little, slip through the forest and join the river further downstream.'
'Blackwood?' said Alish. Then, as Blackwood hesitated: 'He knows the answer to that. His love-hearted Melski will follow us if we leave to make sure we head back home.'
'Perhaps,' said Blackwood, 'but they might miss a small group that slipped away while the rest of us stayed here.'
'No!' said Alish. i'm not travelling with a fist of five when I can travel with an army. We might meet more Melski downstream, so we need our numbers.'
'Alish,' said Hearst. 'Let me go and scout out the land with Blackwood and one or two others. Then we can talk possibilities.'
'As you wish,' said Alish. 'Who will you take?'
'Blackwood, Durnwold, Miphon. Weil be back by dayfail.'
'Good speed,' said Alish.
Watching Hearst's scouting party slip away into the forest, Alish thought Hearst's life-debt to Blackwood was clouding his judgment. And Alish was disturbed that Hearst had taken Miphon to help him. Miphon, sensing things unseen by ordinary men, might well be useful in the forest – but a Rovac warrior should never become dependent on a wizard.
Alish had already made his decision. He had to do his duty, no matter how painful. His duty was to the Code of Night and the destiny of Rovac; his duty was to secure the death-stone for the highest purpose, to avenge the ancient wrongs and set history to rights -and no gabble of waterway gooks could be allowed to stand in the way.
Quietly, moving from man to man to advise each individually, Alish began to give his orders.
Elkor Alish, son of Teramont the Defender, warrior of Rovac, blood of the clan of the eagle, a man born into a free people and sworn to the cause of the Code of Night, stood with his hand on the hilt of his sword Ethlite, looking at the river, the rafts, and the eastern mountains tipped with snow that shone white-bright as the sun, great world-candle, lit and warmed the entire continent of Argan.
So it was killing time again. Voice would be raised against voice and blade against blade, making more corpses to rot down to maggot-filth. Well, there was no helping it. They were faced by the bare necessity. Delay would give Heenmor a better chance to escape or perfect defences against the pursuit he evidently expected.
– Mine is the highest duty, the cause which forbids doubt. Mine is the cause which overrides even an oath sworn by steel and blood. I am of the Code of Night.
Alish looked round. Were the wizards ready? Phyphor gave him a nod: Phyphor and Garash were ready to help out if they must, though they would prefer to conserve their strength to fight Heenmor. Since the loss of the mad- jewel, the wizards had spent as much time as possible deep in the Meditations, building up their powers.
Outwardly, everything seemed normal. Some men were making a pretence of cooking; others sat on the river bank watching the rafts. Alish began to walk down to the jetty. Four warriors joined him: he hoped this fist of five could reach the headman's raft without alarming the Melski. The men talked softly and joked together, but Alish walked in silence, and the wind walked with him.
A few Melski children were playing about the camp making happy whistling and grunting noises. They would die. So? They were not human. They were only gooks. The children chased each other, and the wind snatched at their cries and flung them away. , Alish walked on, and he remembered walking to other battles, ah, so many battles, and once he had sworn it would never happen again. Yes, when he had seen Hearst holding her head he had sworn that enough was enough: he had seen too much killing. But then there had been war at Castle Vaunting, fighting in the swamps, butchery at the High Castle: and now it would happen again. And who could deny that his hands remembered the skill of slaughter?
A few men gave Alish sly glances as he and his shadows walked down to the jetty. Every man had weapons within grasp or snatch. They were greedy, excited, over-eager. If all went well, the Melski headman would be first to die. They would charge the rafts before the Melski – now leaderless – had time to arm and organise. If all went well, the surviving Melski would stand and fight: they were noted for stubborn courage in battle.
But what if cowardice or good tactical sense took the Melski into the water? That was their element, where they could breathe through their gills and their green skins, and swim with their webbed hands and feet far better than any human. Things might get difficult, especially when night came and the rafts floated down the dark river with the enemy grouping silently in the water…
A couple of men were cleaning their helmets, needing to keep their hands busy while they waited. Those were the nervous ones. There were always nervous ones. What if the charge faltered or failed? What if the men turned and ran in panic? Could that happen? With this rabble, of course it could happen.
There was someone coming up behind. Alish stopped and turned. It was Gorn.
'What are you doing here?' said Alish, startled. 'You're supposed to be in charge of our rear party.'
'You don't need me there,' said Gorn.
It was true. Truth was, Alish did not want to see Gorn in action again: Gorn at war, battle axe amok, eyes manic, lips parted as if in the pleasure of lust. If there was a pause, a lull in the battle, Gorn would wipe his hands over his head, leaving blood in his hair. Worst of all, after the fighting, Gorn would go round finishing off the wounded. He never made a clean kill: he always used five strokes of the axe for the ending. Left foot, right foot, left hand, right hand – then the throat. And all this time he would sing a wordless moaning dirge, eyes by this time blank slaughter.
T sent you where I wanted you,' said Alish. 'Go!' i want to be in at the kill,' said Gorn.
