“We’re losing the light,” Marten interjected wearily.
“Blessed Tehlu, a voice of reason speaks.” I looked at Dedan. “We are going. You are staying. That is an order.”
“An order?” Dedan echoed with dark incredulity.
We eyed each other dangerously for a moment, then I turned and followed Tempi into the trees. Thunder growled through the sky above us. A wind moved through the trees, clearing away the endless drizzle. In its place a steady rain began to fall.
CHAPTER NINETY
To Sing a Song About
Tempi lifted the pine boughs that covered the two men. Laid carefully on their backs, they looked as if they were sleeping. I knelt at the side of the larger one, but before I could get a better look, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Looking back I saw Tempi shaking his head.
“What?” I asked. We had less than an hour of light left. Hunting down the bandits’ camp without getting caught was going to be difficult enough. Doing it in a pitch-black storm would be a nightmare.
“You should not,” he said.
“I need to know about our enemies. I can learn things from them that will help us.”
His mouth almost frowned,
I shook my head. “Looking only.” I pointed to my eyes then tapped my temple. “Thinking.”
Tempi nodded. But as I turned back to the bodies, I felt his hand on my shoulder again. “You must ask. They are my dead.”
“You already agreed,” I pointed out.
“Asking is the right thing,” he said.
I took a deep breath. “May I look at your dead, Tempi?”
He nodded once, formally.
I looked over to where Marten was giving his bowstring a careful inspection under a nearby tree. “Do you want to see if you can find their trail?” He nodded and pushed himself away from the tree. “I’d start over there.” I pointed to the south between two ridges.
“I know my business,” he said as he walked off, shouldering his bow.
Tempi took a couple steps away, and I turned my attention to the bodies. One was actually quite a bit larger than Dedan, a great bull of a man. They were older than I had expected, and their hands had the calluses that mark long years of working with weapons. These were not disgruntled farm boys. These were veterans.
“I’ve got their trail,” Marten said, startling me. I hadn’t heard the sound of him approaching over the low susurrus of the falling rain. “It’s clear as day. A drunk priest could follow it.” There was a flicker of lightning across the sky and an accompanying grumble of thunder. The rain started to come down harder. I frowned and pulled the tinker’s sodden cloak tighter around my shoulders.
Marten tilted his head up and let the rain fall full on his face. “I’m glad this weather is finally doing us some good,” he said. “The more it rains the easier it will be for us to sneak in and away from their camp.” He wiped his hands on his dripping shirt and shrugged. “Besides, it’s not like we can get any wetter than we already are.”
“You have a point,” I said, standing.
Tempi covered the bodies with the branches, and Marten led us away to the south.
Marten knelt to examine something on the ground, and I took the opportunity to catch up with him.
“We’re being followed,” I said, not bothering to whisper it. They were at least seventy feet behind us, and the rain was rolling through the trees with a noise like waves against the shore.
He nodded and pretended to point at something on the ground. “I didn’t think you’d seen them.”
I smiled and stripped water from my face with a wet hand. “You’re not the only one here with eyes. How many do you think there are?”
“Two, maybe three.”
Tempi drew close to us. “Two,” he said with certainty in his voice.
“I only saw one,” I admitted. “How close are we to their camp?”
“No guess. Could be over the next hill. Could be miles off. There are still just these two sets of tracks, and I can’t smell any fires.” He stood up and started to follow the trail again without looking back.
I pushed a low branch aside as Tempi walked past and caught a glimpse of movement behind us that had nothing to do with wind or rain. “Let’s go over this next ridge and set a little trap.”
“Sounds like the very thing,” Marten agreed.
Gesturing for us to wait, Marten crouched low and edged his way up to the top of the small rise. I fought the urge to look behind us while he peered over the lip of the ridge, then scampered over.
There was a bright flash as lightning struck nearby. The thunder was like a fist in my chest. I startled. Tempi stood.
“This is like of home,” he said smiling faintly. He made no attempt to keep the water from his face.
Marten waved, and we stalked over the top of the ridge. Once we were out of sight of whoever was following us, I looked around quickly. “Keep following the tracks up to that twisted spruce, then circle back.” I gestured. “Tempi hides there. Marten behind that fallen tree. I’ll go behind that stone. Marten will make the first move. Use your judgment, but it would probably be best if you waited until they were past that broken stump. Try to leave one of them alive if possible, but we can’t have them getting away or making too much noise.”
“What will you be doing?” Marten asked as we hurried to lay down a clear set of tracks as far as the twisted spruce tree.
“I’ll be staying out of the way. The two of you are better equipped for this sort of thing. But I have a trick or two if it comes to that.” We reached the tree. “Ready?”
Marten seemed a little startled by my sudden barrage of orders, but they both nodded and went quickly to their places.
I circled around and settled behind a lumpish upcrop of stone. From my vantage I could see our muddy footprints mingling with the trail we followed. Past that I saw Tempi position himself behind the trunk of a thick burl oak. To his right, Marten nocked an arrow, drew the string back to his shoulder, and waited, motionless as a statue.
I brought out the rag that held the pinch of ash and a slender piece of iron, holding them ready in my hand. My stomach churned as I thought about what we had been sent here to do: hunt and kill men. True, they were outlaws and murderers, but men nonetheless. I deepened my breathing and tried to relax.
The surface of the stone was chill and gritty against my cheek. I strained my ears but couldn’t hear anything over the steady drumming of the rain. I fought the urge to lean farther around the edge of the stone and broaden my field of vision. Lightning flashed again, and I was counting the seconds until the thunder when I saw a pair of figures slink into view.
I felt a sullen heat flare up in my chest. “Shoot them, Marten,” I said loudly.
Dedan whirled around and was facing me with his sword drawn by the time I stepped from my hiding place. Hespe was a little more restrained and stopped with her sword halfway out of its scabbard.
I put my knife away and walked to within a half-dozen steps of Dedan. The thunder rolled over us as I caught and held his eyes. His expression was defiant, and I did not bother to disguise my anger. After a long minute of silence he looked away, pretending he needed to brush the water from his eyes.
“Put that away.” I nodded to his sword. After a second’s hesitation he did so. Only then did I slide the thin piece of brittle steel I held back into the lining of my cloak. “If we were bandits you would already be dead.” I moved my gaze from Dedan to Hespe and back again. “Go back to camp.”
Dedan’s expression twisted. “I’m sick of you talking to me like I’m a kid.” He jabbed a finger toward me. “I’ve been in this world a lot longer than you. I’m not stupid.”
I bit down several angry responses that couldn’t help but make matters worse. “I don’t have time to argue
