Arkady, eyes wide, dismounted and approached the corpse. His hand sought his belly, and his face worked as he swallowed. “That’s… the most grotesque making I’ve ever seen.”
“Yep,” said Dag. “Try to imagine the power of the groundwork that can turn a bear into… well, this, inside of two weeks.”
Intrigue fought the nausea in Arkady’s face. “Can I dissect it? ”
“Now? Are you mad? ”
“No, of course not now! Later.”
“We’ll see,” said Dag.
“With any luck, you can have your pick of the litter,” said Sumac.
“I’ll bring you all the mud-men your heart desires.”
“I’m not sure my heart desires any,” Arkady admitted. “But it’s… absent gods, but that thing’s so wrong.”
“Do you eat them? ” asked Ash, hunkering down in fascination.
This won gagging noises from all the patrollers present, except Dag, who said only, “No. The flesh is tainted.”
“Lakewalkers do skin them sometimes,” said Fawn, remembering a certain bride gift.
“Not to use the leather,” said Dag. “Just… in special cases.”
When the pain was too great, and mere victory wasn’t revenge enough, Fawn suspected.
Dag looked at Sumac, who looked back. Sizing each other up?
Sumac cut across the moment, saying simply, “Well, what next, patrol leader? ”
Fawn thought she could see the weight of responsibility descend like a hundred-pound sack of grain on Dag’s shoulders. He sighed. “Scout, I reckon. North, wouldn’t you say? ”
Sumac’s lips pursed. “That thing could have been running for home. But we haven’t felt any blight sign, south of here. We don’t have enough patrollers to split up and run a proper pattern.”
“We haven’t seen any traffic from the north all day,” said Dag.
“Nor from the south,” Sumac pointed out, “but I agree, north seems the best bet. Should we send a courier for help? Closest camp to here would be Laurel Gap, I reckon.” She turned her head, and called, “Anyone else here ever been to Laurel Gap Camp? ”
The other patrollers returned negative mumbles. Sumac muttered, “Blight. I don’t want it to be me. But it might have to.”
“Not yet, leastways,” said Dag. “Right now we’re in the middle of nowhere, knowing nothing, which doesn’t make much to report.”
Sumac’s eyes glinted. “Indeed.”
“Open your ground to me.”
Her brows went up; a faint flush tinged her high-boned copper cheeks. But she evidently complied.
Dag looked her up and down, nodded without expression. “Pick a partner and ride up the road a piece. No more than five miles. See if you find any blight sign. I’ll try to organize”-Dag’s eye swept the company-“these,” he sighed.
“Right.” Sumac swung aboard her horse, looked over not the patrollers but their mounts, evidently judged Barr’s the swiftest, and said, “Barr, follow me!”
Arkady’s hand lifted as she wheeled away, but fell back unseen.
The two scouts loped off up the road, mud spinning from their horses’ hooves.
Fawn puzzled over that last exchange between uncle and niece. Oh.
Of course. Dag had been checking to be sure Sumac hadn’t conceived, before sending her out. It wasn’t just his general protectiveness; pregnant women, as Fawn had painful reason to know, were preferred prey to a malice on the verge of a molt. The women’s natural making made them beacons, walking bait. Their new ground shields might presently be protecting Fawn and Berry-she touched the walnut at her throat-but what of Vio or Calla? The Lakewalkers would know even if the women didn’t, yet, she reassured herself. They’d take precautions. Children were a malice’s next most favored morsels-she glanced uneasily at the Basswoods’ wagon, where the crying had died down.
“All right,” said Dag, raising his voice to carry, “everyone move up to that next little ford.” He pointed toward a shallow creek crossing the road a hundred paces farther along. “We better grab the chance to water the animals. We have to make ready to run sudden.”
That it shifted everyone farther from the disturbing sight and smell of the dead mud-man was just a bonus, Fawn figured. Setting an example, she retrieved Magpie’s reins and marched along briskly.
–-
A quarter hour later, Dag found himself saying to Sage, “No, you can’t take your anvil!” He ran his hand through his hair in exasperation. “If a malice is close, our best chance of escape is to abandon the wagons and run mounted. If you farmers get caught within range of its ground powers, it could seize your minds, and then you wouldn’t believe how ugly things can get. You rescue each other first, then weapons and animals, then food if there’s time. But no more. Absent gods, every Lakewalker child is taught this by age five!”
“The wagons are all we have!” cried Grouse.
“You can’t stop to defend things.”
“But my anvil!” said Sage. “It’s everything to me.”
Dag fixed him with a stern eye. “More than Calla? ”
“Er…” Sage fell silent.
“If it doesn’t fit in your saddlebags, leave it.”
“Chances are,” said Fawn, “we can circle back later and collect our gear again. If we live. And if we don’t live, we won’t need it anyway, right? ”
Sage still looked torn.
Whit put in helpfully, “Sage, your anvil would be the last thing thieves would run off with. It takes two fellows just to lift it!”
“Not if it’s still in the wagon. They can just take the whole rig.”
“We’ll have the mules,” said Fawn. Cleverly not suggesting that a malice could just chain up its mud-men slaves to haul it all off, good girl.
Dag gave her a grateful nod.
Sage wavered, then resigned himself to unhitching his team, Indigo helping. Dag hurried to greet Remo and Neeta, returning on foot from scouting up toward either ridge.
“Nothing up on my side within groundsense range,” reported Remo.
“Mine either,” said Neeta. “No physical signs, either. Just animal tracks and old travelers’ camps.”
Dag eyed the high ground overlooking them with disfavor; that there was no hostile eye up there spying on them now didn’t mean there hadn’t been an hour ago, or any time this morning.
“Should we feed folks while we can? ” asked Fawn.
She was thinking, as always. Dag said, “Hand snacks only. Don’t light a fire.”
Everything waited on Sumac and Barr. The company was actually closer to the next big settlement riding forward than back, and the passes were about the same climb in either direction. At least the road behind was known to the farmers now. But until they actually located the malice, it was a guess which direction was truly safer. If the malice proved sessile he’d go after it with a quarter patrol without hesitation, Dag decided, but if it was more advanced, sense demanded they go neither south nor north, but cut across country west to Laurel Gap Camp and the nearest reinforcements. Or did it? Dag imagined dragging this whole gaggle of farmers over fifty miles of broken terrain, mud-men in pursuit, and bit his lip. He would certainly have to send a pair of patroller couriers swiftly on ahead. Reducing the farmer youngsters’
Lakewalker guardians by two… He turned to more immediate calculations.
“Rase, let me see your sharing knife.”
The boy already had it out of his saddlebags and slung around his neck, good. He pulled it out on its thong and displayed it; Dag ran his hand lightly over the sheath. A good making. “Seems sound,” he said aloud. “If we take on a sessile, you’ll be the centerpiece of the attack. This is the experience you came north to get; it just came on a little sooner than you expected, is all.”
Rase’s nostril’s flared, in pride and fear. “Yes, sir.”
“Whose heart’s death is in there? ”
