Yelve didn’t want to admit her reasons for feeling impatient. Usually she could wait around for weeks before giving up on a target. Instead she told herself it was being in the company of such lazy idiots as these supposed raiders were. It was hard picturing any of the people she’d come across in the camp being able to pull off the mess at the orchard. Unless these were simply the sacrificial goats and the real muscle was with the head of the order.
They hadn’t questioned her suddenly showing up. The most attention she got was an errant grunt or two, or the occasional meandering drunken grope. Yelve took her cue from the other women in camp, most of whom generally laughed as they pushed the other person away. No one had said anything if she pushed back with more force than the others.
It had been easy enough that first night to slip into a few important-looking tents and collect letters for Kohau to take back to the temple. Perhaps too easy as she looked back on it. Had those missives been left out for someone to find? If that had been the case, it wasn’t as though they knew she or anyone else was on their way. Either way, she was in the enemy camp and had little time to fret about things outside her control.
“You there! Take this to the ones preparing the master’s tent.”
Yelve grit her teeth to stay the retort at the tip of her tongue as a basket of linens was shoved into her arms. She hadn’t yet decided if the somewhat dismal treatment of women was a factor of the cult or just the idiots currently in the camp. Thankful for the veil that hid her dark expression right then, she tried not to stop her way across the camp.
“Took you long enough. How am – you’re not that lay about good fer nothin’.” The speaker was a short, portly woman, one of the few people of any gender in the camp who didn’t go around in the customary robe and veil. “Shoved his work off on someone else again. Next time I see him I’ll tan his hide. Set the basket there by the curtain, the girls can grab it when they’re ready. You can be my new assistant.”
It was hard to say if she wanted to sigh or scream right then. Instead, Yelve simply nodded her head and followed the woman from the tent. Maybe she could learn something new.
“You must be new. I don’t remember seeing you around much before.” The woman waved her towards a stool near a cook fire. “Have a seat and I’ll get us some food. Great serpent only knows what horrid thing they’re trying to serve at the mess tent.”
Yelve nearly fell off the stool. “I thought –“
“Don’t see me in one of them awful getups now do ya? His high mightiness Lord Renat knows that if he wants a good meal in his belly, he’ll let me do as I wish.” She spat near the fire, the spittle sizzling as it hit one of the warm rocks at their feet. “This whole rot is utter foolishness if you ask me – which they haven’t, mind you – but anyone with eyes in their heads can see this will never work. Not even with this made up god of fire his mightiness has them all bamboozled with.”
“Why are you here then?”
The cook studied her a long moment, her voice a harsh whisper when she spoke again. “What would you agree to do if it meant protecting your family?”
“I would do whatever it takes.” Yelve hitched up the edge of her robe and the loose trousers underneath enough to show the twined snakes tattooed around her leg. “Renat threatens everyone in Leistros.”
“What do you intend to do?”
“What will happen to this twisted lump of snake if I remove its head?” Yelve gestured with her fork towards the rest of the camp.
“Most would scatter back to their former banditry groups. There’s a second serpent who might rally some of the troops, but I don’t believe his target is Leistros. Not like Renat at least. That one I could easily take care of with some bad wine.”
Yelve nodded, setting aside her empty plate. “Your family will be safe if Renat is no more?”
“Yes.”
“Then it shall be done.”
The cook looked up as Yelve stood. “There’s a messenger about your height his mightiness trusts with his personal letters and such. Always coming and going from the camp at odd times. No one would think twice. And I can see to it that his concubines won’t be in the way.”
“Won’t they suspect you?”
“It will just look like the stupid girls drank too much again.” The cook reached out and pressed a small round object into Yelve’s hand. “May Kurdal guide you.”
“May Aliashe see you safe.”
Yelve didn’t look at what the older woman had given her until she was well away from the cook’s tent. It was a carved stone medallion of a coiled snake. She wasn’t certain why the woman had given her something so treasured. A part of her wanted to make sure she dragged the old woman along when she left, but knowing what plans she had for Renat made Yelve talk herself out of such actions. If the cook had lasted this long as a somewhat willing hostage, she could probably make it out safely without assistance.
With the stone snake put away in a small pouch she tucked inside her shirt, Yelve did her best to be out in the camp without really being seen. All that was left right then was to wait for her target. So the least she could do was see what other random gossip going around might prove useful.