“Yes! Yes,” he cried. “People running across the yard. Lud curse them, it’s the Druid’s people. They’ve broken him out! Tell the captains!”
After a hurried consultation, one of the gate guards ran off into the darkness and the other withdrew into his booth, believing he had been instructed by his masters to let the prisoners go by. I was fascinated to witness implanted “memories” burst open so he would believe he had seen and heard the Druid and a group of his armsmen run past.
The frantic barking of the guard dogs had grown louder, and now I could hear the shouts of men and the sound of heavy boots.
Then I heard the whinny of a horse.
“They’re mounting up,” Gahltha sent, and I realized we were supposed to be mounted already.
“Quick—we have to ride,” I hissed, cursing my stupidity.
“Are you ready?” Miryum farsent with painful coercive force.
“We are,” I sent tersely.
“Ride, then, and go as fast as you can,” she sent. “We’re right behind you. Go!” This last was a general coercive command, and we burst from the bushes onto the track heading for the main road.
“They’ve got out!” bellowed the man from the watchtower; then I heard no more over the thunderous sound of Gahltha’s hooves. Luckily, the horses could see better than their human mounts, for it was pitch dark away from the lantern lights. I loosed a probe to warn me of any obstacles, just in time to avoid an overhanging branch. If I fell—if any of us fell—the coercers had too little strength left to prevent the soldierguards killing us.
Fortunately, everyone taking part in the decoy could ride well. Lina was alongside me, leaning low over her horse’s neck, and behind us I sensed Miryum and her team catching up.
“Ride!” her mind commanded. “The soldierguards are coming, and we need to open a gap between us.”
We reached the main road, and the horses swung their noses to the highlands. There must have been some moonlight showing through the clouds, because I could see the road and the trees on either side now. I shook drops of water from my eyes and risked a glance over my shoulder. Beyond Miryum and her knights, I could see the dim outline of distant riders. Their horses were deliberately running more slowly than they could to enable us to get far enough ahead that no arrow or knife would cover the distance. Since our horses were moving at full speed, we were steadily drawing away.
But we could not go on at that pace forever. As soon as there was a decent gap, Gahltha signaled the other horses and we slowed to a fast canter.
After some time, I farsought behind us and discovered that a small number of soldierguards had drawn away from the rest and were gaining on us. I cast about in their horses’ minds and learned with horror that their leader was flogging his horse mercilessly with a whip to force her to run faster. I tried to coerce him to stop, only to find he wore a demon band. Three other captains were wearing them, too, and they were also flailing their whips, not only at their own horses but also at the horses around them. Against their will, the horses were increasing their speed.
“Bastards,” Miryum sent impotently, cursing herself for failing to foresee this possibility and implant coercive instructions for the soldierguards not to notice tardiness in their mounts.
“They’ll kill the horses if they don’t increase their speed,” I sent to Gahltha. “We have to ride faster.”
Agreeing, he sent a command to the others and our pace redoubled. “We have enough lead that they will not catch/stop us before we reach the White Valley,” he sent reassuringly.
I concentrated on being as little of a burden as I could, knowing our lives depended upon our winning this race.
“There!” Lina shouted over a mighty crack of thunder.
I squinted through the rain to see the familiar outline of Guanette in the distance, illuminated by streaks of lightning. This meant we were close to the turnoff into the Valley. I had just begun to fear we might have missed it when Gahltha signaled that he scented it ahead, past a slight bend in the road.
When we reached it, I stared down in dismay. Little used at the best of times, the access track was fiendishly steep and narrow and badly eroded at the edges, but the downpour had turned it into a rain-slicked death trap descending into pitch blackness. Ordinarily, the horses would have gone down riderless, with us following on foot, but there was no time. The soldierguards were bare minutes behind us, and I prayed Avra had been right when she had told me that the horses who had volunteered for the decoy ride were sure-footed.
Lina pulled up beside me, her hair plastered to her neck and cheeks. She looked down at the track, then up at me in inquiry.
“Can you do it?” I asked.
Her eyes narrowed, and all the mischief and irreverence in her sharp little face became a tough determination. “Can a wolf howl?”
Swallowing my fear, I bade her go. She was an excellent rider, and if she could not descend safely, I knew some of the others would have no chance. I watched with my heart in my mouth as she and her mount negotiated the treacherous path, descending until they were out of sight, swallowed by foliage and shadows. I waited with bated breath, following the rest of her descent with my mind and gasping aloud in relief as I felt her touch bottom.
The other horses followed her route carefully, one at a time. I wanted to urge them to hurry, but dared not.
I watched Angina ride over the edge fearfully, knowing he was not as good a rider as the others, but his horse assured me that she would not let him fall. Kella went next and then several of the knights. Trusting their prowess, I took the chance to glance back. Miryum and Straaka were just riding up with three beastspeakers.
“These are the last. You go next,” the coercer shouted to me after chivying the first beastspeaker down.
“No. The other beastspeakers, then you two.”
“You are Master of Obernewtyn….”
“And you have sworn to obey me as a coercer-knight. Now do as I say. You can’t coerce those banded captains anyway.”
“Nor can you,” Miryum cried.
“No, but I can beastspeak their horses,” I snapped. “Now stop wasting time!”
The second beastspeaker vanished over the edge. I sensed dimly that someone had fallen farther down but not badly. There was no time to probe further.
“I see them,” Straaka shouted, pointing back along the road.
“Go!” I shouted to him and Miryum. Then I turned my attention to the leading soldierguard’s horse. “Help us! Lose your rider if you can/will.”
“I would have thrown/trampled him/funaga-li weary years past, but he rides like/with the soul of an equine. If I succeeded, his pride will desire me dead,” the mare sent.
“We need your help,” I sent. “Do this, and it will be the last time you will ever bear a rider.”
“I obey, Innle.”
I saw her stop and shy spectacularly in a flash of lightning, bringing the pursuit to a confused and milling halt. But her rider stuck to her back as if he were part of her flesh, and as the mare dropped wearily back onto all fours, he uncoiled his whip, his face contorted with rage. I prayed he would strike only once and then turn his attention back to us, but he slashed at her raw flanks as if in a frenzy. I felt only the dimmest edge of the pain it gave her, but it was enough to make me cry out in agony.
“The way is clear now,” Gahltha sent urgently.
The mare stumbled to her knees, and the soldierguard leapt from her back and turned to lay into her with such abandon that I could see he meant to whip her to death.
“We cannot help her,” Gahltha sent.
Fury ran through me like hot fire, and I reached instinctively for my deadliest ability. Everything seemed to slow down around me as it wakened. Even the rain fell with monstrous lethargy.
I sheathed my coercive probe in the power and hurled it at the soldierguard captain’s mind. Dimly, I envisaged it making enough of an impact to distract him. But to my astonishment, the probe sheered through the storm static and the de
mon-band block as if they did not exist.
Knowing the blow would kill the soldierguard, I tried to soften it, but, incredibly, the probe bucked and writhed, refusing to obey my will. It had been formed of uncontrolled fury and would respond to nothing else. It fought to strike at the soldierguard along the worn trajectory of my hatred for all abusers of beasts, and the effort of holding it back took all my energy.
I felt my grip falter, and the partly tamed probe slipped sideways and struck its target. My target.
Gasping as that dark power recoiled into me, I watched the soldierguard captain arch dramatically backward, the bloody whip falling from his fingers. With a terrible, inhuman shriek of pain, he pitched sideways, his mouth stretched with agony. When he fell, he did not move.
Trembling with exhaustion and shock, I reached out with my mind. He was alive, but only barely.
The soldierguards were beginning to bellow, and some were pointing at me as others tried to lift their captain to the roadside. The mare staggered away into the trees, but I had no energy left even to beastspeak her.
“I will send her directions to the barud, but we must go now, “Gahltha sent. Without waiting for me to concur, he plunged over the edge onto the valley path. I was too shattered to be afraid of falling or of being shot in the back by the soldierguards. My body felt weak and hollow, and my mind was so spent as to render me unTalented. I felt witless at having nearly killed a man.
“He meant to kill the equine,” Gahltha sent firmly.
“Misfits…don’t kill,” I sent. Even in physical contact with the horse, it took a great effort. “We don’t kill or maim or hurt anything….”
“You did not will to kill him/funaga-li.”
“You don’t understand,” I wept. “Part of me did!”
“What happened?” Miryum demanded. “You were so long, we thought…”
I dragged my wits together, realizing the others were clustered around me in the dark, wet foliage instead of taking advantage of our lead.
We all froze at the sound of a scream from above, and moments later, a riderless horse came stumbling down the path, its eyes showing white. Obviously, her rider had not anticipated how steep the path was and had trusted his own instincts over those of his horse. We heard him cursing foully and calling up to his comrades that he’d broken his leg.
“Let’s go while we can,” Miryum urged.
As we rode on, I tried to farseek Duria, but my mind was incapable of even locating him let alone of communicating. Fortunately, he linked with one of the coercers to guide us to the ambush point. We were perhaps twenty minutes away, and there was no need to ride fast now. Ironically, we had to make sure we left a good clear trail so that the soldierguards would not lose us in the dark.
The storm had faded away without my noticing it, and the rain had almost cleared, but we were soaked to the skin. The long, hard ride had kept us from feeling the cold, but with the slower pace, I could feel it beginning to gnaw at my bones. By the time we came to the narrow track leading into the cul-de-sac where the trap was to be sprung, my teeth were chattering so hard I could not speak.
The track opened up into a broad clearing surrounded by high walls of stone, and I knew we had reached our destination. Sliding from Gahltha’s back, I staggered.
By the time we were all sheltered under several clumps of trees down the far end of the canyon, the rain had ceased completely and the clouds began to fray and separate. The moon showed through their ragged edges, revealing the full extent of the cul-de-sac limned in silvery blue. Duria had been right in saying it was the perfect place for an ambush.
“Can you contact Duria?” I asked Miryum. “I used up all my energy delaying the soldierguards.”
“I’m afraid I have nothing left. I couldn’t coerce them if my life depended on it,” she admitted.
At her words, a terrible premonition smote at me, but before I could grasp what it might mean, the soldierguards arrived. They galloped wildly into the clearing, one after another, until there were dozens milling about.
“This is not Henry Druid’s camp!” a soldierguard cried.
One of the captains dismounted and drew a short, businesslike sword. Moonlight slid along its blade with liquid grace as he peered toward us. “No, but those seditioners are skulking in the trees. I daresay they hoped we’d give up before this.”
I expected Malik to announce himself then, but instead a peculiar awkward silence fell. On our part, it was an expectant silence, but on the part of the soldierguards, it was infused with puzzlement. They had caught sight of us now, and we were not behaving as penned prisoners ought. The soldierguards dismounted and came toward us slowly.
“Something doesn’t tally,” one of them muttered, peering into the shadows under the trees. “Look at them. Gypsy halfbreeds by their clothes and skin. Oldsters and women and children, mostly. These were not the armsmen who rescued Henry Druid.”
“This lot were set up as decoys, to draw us away so that the Druid and his men could vanish,” one of the captains snarled.
I wondered why Malik was holding his hand for so long. Miryum must have felt the same, for without warning, she took several strides into the space before the horde of soldierguards and faced them boldly. Straaka followed smoothly as her shadow.
“Surrender your weapons, for you have ridden into a trap,” she said boldly.
The huge, bearded soldierguard captain holding the sword fairly goggled at her. Then his eyes slitted. “I do not think there is any trap,” he sneered. “The only thing you have led us to, woman, is your own death.” Without warning, he lifted a small crossbow and fired.
It would have taken Miryum in the head, but moving like a snake, Straaka twisted to place himself in front of the coercer, and the arrow took him deep in the chest. The Sadorian fell without a sound at her feet, and Miryum gaped down at him in disbelief. She knelt, seeming at once to forget where she was, but the rest of us watched in horror as the soldierguards nocked arrows and drew their knives and swords.
“Leave a couple alive. We’ll torture the Druid’s whereabouts out of them,” the bearded captain said.
Instinctively, I tried to coerce him to stop his men, but my Talent would not function. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I stepped out into the open, ignoring Gahltha’s attempt to catch my arm in his teeth.
“Stop,” I commanded. “The woman spoke truthfully. We have led you deliberately into a trap. Even now, you are surrounded by rebels, but they will spare you if you do no further harm.”
Some of the soldierguards looked around uneasily, but the captain who had shot Straaka smiled scornfully. “Let your allies reveal themselves, if they exist,” he challenged.
Now we all looked up, Misfits and soldierguards alike, but there was nothing; not the slightest rustle or glimpse of light on skin to suggest there was anything above but wet foliage and stone.
Only then did I understand.
Malik was in place, listening even now. He and his rebel force. But they would no more move to save us than grow wings and fly.
Malik had sworn to do no hurt to the soldierguards, and none of the empaths had found a lie in his vow, because he had spoken the truth. He had never intended to murder the soldierguards.
It was us he meant to harm.
I understood clearly that this was no momentary impulse of treachery. It had been planned, perhaps even from the moment Malik suggested that Misfits act as bait. He knew from the Battlegames that our Talents were limited by our energy, and his plan had been designed to ensure any Misfit taking part would be drained before the ambush.
“Where are you, Malik? Show yourself!” Lina yelled, coming out to stand beside me, but her only answer was the mocking echo of her own voice. “I don’t understand,” she muttered. “The horses say the rebels are all there hidden above us. What are they waiting for?”
“They are waiting for the soldierguards to kill us,” I said, loudly enough for Malik and his men to hear my words and know t
hat I understood their treachery. Strangely, I was not afraid, though death was all about us in the night and in the cold purposeful eyes of the soldierguards.
I lifted my hands to show that they were empty. “Do not kill us, for we are unarmed,” I said. I sensed the others behind me, coming from under the trees to show their empty hands.
One of the soldierguards lowered his bow a fraction. “They’re half of them little more than children,” he muttered. “I can’t kill unarmed children in cold blood.”
“They are foul demon spawn created by the loathsome experiments of Henry Druid,” the bearded captain warned. “Their faces are innocent and young precisely to sway you to pity. But behind these winsome guises, they are monsters. And do not think them weaponless either. Remember the demonish tricks they played to slow our horses under us, and look what happened to Tarick back there on the road. One of these ‘children’ struck him a mortal blow without even being close to him.”
The faces of the men around him hardened with revulsion, but even as they lifted their weapons, there was a flurry of movement. Before anyone could act, a mass of horses—both those of the Beastguild and the soldierguards’ own mounts—had made a fleshy barrier of themselves between us and the soldierguards. Gahltha had positioned himself directly in front of me, and I fought to push past him, but he stood resolute.
“Very well,” the soldierguard captain snarled. “If the beasts are possessed by these demons, then let them perish.”
“No!” Angina cried, wriggling through the line of horses to stand in front of his mount. “Please don’t hurt them. Give us a moment, and we’ll make them go….”
But the captain barked a command to fire.
My heart leapt into my mouth, but Gahltha was not hit, nor the horses on either side of him. For a second, I thought perhaps the arrows had been shot high to frighten us. Then I heard horses begin to scream, and Angina fell with dreamlike slowness. A coercer-knight who had also broken through the line of horses groaned and staggered with an arrow in her groin.
I stepped forward on rubbery legs, but Gahltha’s teeth closed painfully on my shoulder. “Do not expose yourself, ElspethInnle!” he sent urgently. He insisted with brutal clarity that far more would die than those gathered here if I were to perish.