Over the next half hour, Khollo marked a dozen places around the Ishkabur pass the vertaga could have set up base in. There was a cave-riddled cliff just south of the pass, in a heavily forested area of the mountains. A highland valley to the north. Various nooks and crannies in the foothills.
Khollo sat back and studied the results. Assuming the vertaga sighted were merely a raiding band, any of these places would do. But if they were something larger, only a few options remained to them. The caves, for one. And the highland valley.
Regardless, they’re a long way from here, he realized, eyeing the distance between the tiny dot labeled ‘West Bank’ and the jagged triangles representing the southern ranges.
Khollo’s eyes strayed to the sketch of the vertaga again and he shuddered. The eyes gleamed with madness, the snarling maw and flexed claws belied a barbaric, primitive inner nature. A need to kill, to rip, to destroy.
An argument outside the door distracted Khollo momentarily. He looked up just as the council room door slammed back against the wall and Sergeant Wilkes strode in with the two door guards.
“You!” he roared, pointing an accusing finger at Khollo. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Khollo stood slowly, shifting the papers before him to hide what he had been working on, slipping the report and sketch behind his back and folding them carefully. “An assignment for Lord Kurkan,” he said finally.
“What?” Wilkes demanded.
Khollo straightened. “I’ve been instructed not to tell you until a certain time, or when Janis deems necessary.”
“The hell you have. I command this fortress now,” Wilkes spat angrily. “Tell me what you were doing or get out and never come back. I don’t care if Lord Kurkan chose you for his squire, you’ll not hide anything from me!”
“Actually,” Khollo said, unsmiling, “I will.”
Wilkes growled menacingly. The guards shifted uncomfortably behind him.
“You are very close to committing treason, cadet,” Wilkes warned.
“I am obeying orders left for me by Lord Kurkan, my master,” Khollo replied. “He is your superior as well. Until he returns, you have no ability to arrest me for treason.”
“Perhaps not,” Wilkes conceded finally. “But I do have authority to throw you out of here. Go!”
Khollo gave a stiff, mocking bow and made for the door. As he was leaving, he heard Wilkes begin sifting through the files on the table, muttering to himself. It appeared he was determined to find out what Khollo had been up to. Khollo patted his left pocket, where he had hidden the two most important documents of his assignment. The parchment rustled faintly.
That was close. But the mission remains secret. Khollo began descending the stairs. I hope Janis gets back soon, he reflected as he crossed the great hall. Much more of this, and Wilkes and I will end up at blows.
Chapter 4
A week passed. Not a day went by that Khollo did not glance skyward a dozen times, hoping to see a message pigeon winging its way to the fortress. But he was never rewarded for his constant vigilance.
Life continued on as normal at the West Bank. The cadets rose before dawn each morning for a run, though they had not been forced to run with packs since Hern’s injury. He had returned three days later, on crutches, out of commission for an indefinite period of time.
Khollo couldn’t help being jealous of the injured boy. Wilkes was pushing the rest harder than ever, Khollo especially so. Every miniscule flaw was noticed, and every problem was somehow laid at Khollo’s feet, even if he had nothing to do with it. Khollo was assigned extra work to be done after everyone else had retired to the barracks. Under Wilkes’ watchful eye, he would go through his paces for hours after dark, or roll large stones back and forth, or run around and around the fortress courtyard. This had the effect of both weakening Khollo and taking up any time he might have used to research the vertaga further.
The ninth day since Janis had left started like any other. Khollo rose early, wakened by a sharp prod from Sermas, and prepared for the morning run. But this time, there was unwelcome news.
“Packs,” Sermas informed Khollo as he rubbed sleep from his eyes. That single word carried with it the promise of several hours’ pain, and another problem.
Khollo’s eyes snapped open and he was suddenly wide awake. “Sermas!” he hissed, so the others getting ready would not hear.
“What?”
“Our packs are empty!”
Sermas’ mouth opened and closed soundlessly, repeating what Khollo had said. Then the younger cadet sighed. “Then we’ll just have to fill them. Come on.”
Khollo dressed and slung his empty pack over one shoulder and sprinted for the door. For once, he and Sermas were among the first out the door. Sergeant Wilkes was waiting at the main gate, eying the cadets as they jogged past.
“Stop,” Wilkes growled when he saw Khollo and Sermas. “Those packs look a little light, cadets.”
Khollo and Sermas froze and turned slowly to face the sergeant. “We, ah, haven’t had a chance to refill them, sir,” Sermas explained.
“Refill them?” Wilkes stepped closer, hands clasped behind his back. “What do you mean?”
“We got tired of carrying the same rocks all the time,” Sermas managed to say with a straight face. “Decided to dump them and get some new ones.” Khollo snorted with barely suppressed laughter.
Wilkes glared at Sermas. “Don’t bandy words with me, boy,” he growled. “Tell the truth!”
Khollo stepped in. “Sir . . . we emptied our packs the day we brought cadet Hern back to the fortress. The weight of both him and the packs was too much for us to handle so we dumped the rocks.”
“That nonsense again,” Wilkes muttered. “Fine.
