The Wise Man's Fear

with you. We’re losing the light, and you’re putting us in danger. Go back to camp.”

“We should take care of this tonight,” he said. “We’ve already knackered off two of them, there’s probably only five or six left. We’ll surprise them in the dark, in the middle of the storm. Wham. Bam. We’ll be back in Crosson tomorrow for lunch.”

“And what if there’s a dozen of them? What if there’s twenty? What if they’re holed up in a farmhouse? What if they find our camp while no one’s there? All our supplies, our food, and my lute could be gone, and a trap waiting for us when we come back. All because you couldn’t sit still for an hour.” His face reddened dangerously, and I turned away. “Go back to camp. We’ll talk about this tonight.”

“No, dammit. I’m coming, and there’s not a damn thing you can do to stop me.”

I ground my teeth. The worst part was that it was true. I had no way of enforcing my authority. There was nothing I could do short of subduing him with the wax simulacra I’d made. And I knew that to be the worst possible option. Not only would it turn Dedan into an outright enemy, it would undoubtedly turn Hespe and Marten against me too.

I looked to Hespe. “Why are you here?”

She darted a quick look at Dedan. “He was going to go alone. I thought it was better if we stayed together. And we did think it through. Nobody’s going to stumble onto the camp. We hid our gear and doused the fire before we left.”

I gave a tight sigh and tucked the useless pinch of ash into a pocket of my cloak. Of course they did.

“But I agree,” she said. “We should try to finish it tonight.”

I looked to Marten.

He gave me an apologetic look. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want this over,” he said, then added quickly, “If we can do it smart.” He might have said more, but the words caught in his throat and he began to cough.

I looked at Tempi. Tempi looked back.

The worst thing was, my gut agreed with Dedan. I wanted this done. I wanted a warm bed and a decent meal. I wanted to get Marten somewhere dry. I wanted to go back to Severen where I could bask in Alveron’s gratitude. I wanted to find Denna, apologize, and explain why I had left without a word.

Only a fool fights the tide. “Fine.” I looked up at Dedan. “If one of your friends dies because of this, it will be your fault.” I saw a flicker of uncertainty cross his face, then disappear as he set his jaw. He had said too much for his pride to let him back down.

I leveled a long finger at him. “But from now on each of you must do as I say. I’ll listen to your suggestions, but I give the orders.” I looked around. Marten and Tempi nodded right away, with Hespe following only a second after. Dedan gave a slow nod.

I looked at him. “Swear it.” His eyes narrowed. “If you pull another stunt like this when we’re attacking tonight, you could get us killed. I don’t trust you. I’d rather leave tonight than go into this with someone I can’t trust.”

There was another tense moment, but before it stretched too long Marten chimed in, “C’mon Den. The boy’s actually got a fair bit on the ball. He set up this little ambush in about four seconds.” His tone turned jocular. “Besides, he’s not as bad as that bastard Brenwe, and the money for that little privy- dance wasn’t half as good.”

Dedan cracked a smile. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. So long as it’s over tonight.”

I didn’t doubt for a second Dedan would still go his own way if it suited him. “Swear you’ll follow my orders.”

He shrugged and looked away. “Yeah. I swear.”

Not enough. “Swear it on your name.”

He wiped the rain from his face and looked back at me, confused. “What?”

I faced him and spoke formally. “Dedan. Will you do as I say tonight, without questioning or hesitation? Dedan. Do you swear it on your name?”

He shifted from foot to foot for a moment, then straightened a little. “I swear it on my name.”

I stepped closer to him and said “Dedan” very softly. At the same time I fed a small, tiny burst of heat through the wax simulacra in my pocket. Not enough to do anything, but enough that he could feel it, just for a moment.

I saw his eyes widen, and I gave him my best Taborlin the Great smile. The smile was full of secrets, wide and confident, and more than slightly smug. It was a smile that told an entire story all by itself.

“I have your name now,” I said softly. “I have mastery over you.”

The look on his face was almost worth a month of his grumbling. I stepped back and let the smile disappear, quick as a flicker of lightning. Easy as taking off a mask. Which, of course, would leave him wondering which expression was the real one, the young boy or the half-glimpsed Taborlin?

I turned away before I lost the moment. “Marten will scout ahead. Tempi and I will follow five minutes behind. That will give him time to spot their lookouts and come back to warn us. You two follow ten minutes behind us.”

I gave Dedan a pointed look and held up both hands with my fingers splayed. “Ten full minutes. It’ll be slower this way. But it’s safest. Any suggestions?” Nobody said anything. “All right. Marten, it’s your show. Come back if you run into trouble.”

“Count on it,” he said, and soon passed from our sight, lost in the blurry green and brown of leaf and bark and rock and rain.

The rain continued to pelt down, and the light was beginning to fail as Tempi and I followed the trail, slinking from one hiding place to another. Noise, at least, was not a concern as the thunder made a near constant grumbling overhead.

Marten appeared with no warning from the underbrush and motioned us to the marginal shelter of a leaning maple. “Their camp is right up ahead,” he said. “There’s tracks all over the place, and I saw light from their fire.”

“How many of them?”

Marten shook his head. “I didn’t get that close. As soon as I saw different sets of footprints I came back. I didn’t want you following the wrong tracks and getting lost.”

“How far?”

“About a minute’s creep. You could see their fire from here, but their camp’s on the other side of a rise.”

I looked at the faces of my two companions in the dimming light. Neither of them seemed nervous. They were suited for this sort of work, trained for it. Marten had his abilities as a tracker and a bowman. Tempi had the legendary skill of the Adem.

I might have felt calm too, if I had had the opportunity to prepare some plan, some trick of sympathy that could tip things in our favor. But Dedan had ruined all hopes of that by insisting we attack tonight. I had nothing, not even a bad link to a distant fire.

I stopped that line of thinking before it could turn from anxiety to panic. “Let’s go then,” I said, pleased at the calm timbre of my voice.

The three of us crept forward as the last of the light slowly bled from the sky. In the grey, Marten and Tempi were difficult to see, which reassured me. If it was hard for me, it would be near impossible for sentries to spot us from a distance.

Soon I spied firelight reflecting off the undersides of high branches ahead. Crouching, I followed Marten and Tempi up the side of a steep bank, made slippery by the rain. I thought I saw a stir of movement ahead of us.

Then lightning struck. In the near dark it was enough to blind me, but not before the muddy bank was highlighted in dazzling white.

A tall man stood on the ridge with a drawn bow. Tempi crouched a few feet up the bank, frozen in the act of carefully placing his feet. Above him was Marten. The old tracker had gone to one knee and drawn his bow as well. The lightning showed me all of this in a great flash, then left me blind. The thunder came an instant after, deafening me as well. I dropped to the ground and rolled, wet leaves and dirt clinging to my face.

When I opened my eyes all I could see were the blue ghosts the lightning had left dancing in front of my