The Outskirter's Secret (34 page)

"There will be more in the morning than there
are now."

Rowan thought of some under Mander's care who
might not last the night. "Yes. But we gave better than we got,
Fletcher." She remembered him in his blind warrior's fury, felling
an uncountable number of Face People. Then another memory came
unbidden: that frozen moment before the onslaught, when Rowan had
not known if Fletcher would fight at all. It came to her that it
was not fear of death that had held him in that instant, because
when he did fight, it was with the wild and utter abandon of a man
who knew he would not survive. What thoughts were in his mind as he
watched the inescapable assault approaching, Rowan did not know;
but at that moment, Fletcher had been faced with two options. He
had chosen death as the preferable one.

But Fletcher always scraped by, Chess had
told her. He had scraped by again, this time saving not only his
own life, but the lives of many in his tribe. And it was his tribe,
his own. He was no mere adopted Inner Lander. He was a warrior.

Rowan felt pride on his behalf. "You fought
well," she told him. She said no more than that, but the tone of
her voice said what her words did not.

When he replied, it was with a voice of quiet
amazement. "After we cleared out that bunch by the fire pit," he
said, "and everything got still, there I was, standing around in a
daze. And Averryl, he steps up to me, looks me in the eye and says,
'You did good,' and wanders off again." There was no parody, no
humor in his voice. "That's all. Just: 'You did good.' "

Rowan smiled. "Bel is much the same."

Fletcher stirred. "Well," he said, half to
himself, "let's see what else I can do good." And he strode off
through the quiet camp without another word.

L
ate the
previous night, Bel had been awakened with the word that one of the
scouts had discovered signs of another tribe. Before dawn, she had
been escorted to the limit of Kammeryn's defended pastures, then
left to continue alone.

In speaking with the new tribe's council, her
discourse on the wizards, the fallen Guidestar, and her mission
were considerably aided by the poem she had composed. Their seyoh
was impressed, and although she accepted Bel's information only as
hypothesis, she guaranteed cooperation should the wizards' threat
ever materialize. They parted on friendly terms.

But when Bel attempted to return to
Kammeryn's tribe, she found herself approaching the rear of what
was obviously an attack formation.

"I couldn't see a way to get around them to
warn Kammeryn, not in time for it to make much difference," Bel
told Rowan, as they lay on their bedrolls in the darkness. Despite
her exhaustion, Rowan was unable to sleep; the battle continued to
reenact itself behind her eyes.

Bel continued. "I went back to the other
tribe. I was going to point out that these attackers probably would
give them trouble after defeating Kammeryn's people, and it might
be in their best interest to help us out now. But as it turned out,
they'd met them before, and suffered fairly badly. They were ready
to join forces with us, to get rid of them."

"We're lucky you arrived when you did."

"No, you're not." Bel turned over onto her
stomach and rested her chin on cupped hands. "We could have arrived
sooner. But the Face People would have seen us and run. We didn't
want to chase them away, we wanted to kill them. We deployed so
that they would be trapped between us and you. And waited until
they attacked, so they were in the open, and off-balance."

Rowan sighed. "I would have preferred them
chased away, if it saved lives." At last report, there were at
least ten dead from Ella's tribe, and perhaps twenty from
Kammeryn's. Many on both sides were wounded. Others were still
missing, status unknown.

"Chasing them wouldn't have saved lives.
They'd have come back later, when we weren't prepared. This way was
best."

Rowan ran the strategy in her mind. "Of
course. You're right."

Somewhat later, when her internal reenactment
had progressed to the scenes in the infirmary tent, Rowan spoke
aloud. "How often does this sort of thing happen?"

She received no reply; Bel was asleep.

The tribe lost seventeen people. Among those
whom Rowan knew well: Kester, surprised among his flock on
nine-side; Mare, of Kree's band, fallen in the furious battle at
position twelve; Elleryn and Bae, of Berrion's band, which had been
covering the outer circle on nine-side; Cherrasso, of Orranyn's
band, who had been positioned at inner ten; and Dee, a mertutial
relay who had maintained her post as the Face People struck the
camp itself.

Also gone was Eden, Kammeryn's aide, but not
fallen in battle. She had been assisting Mander through the long
night, and near dawn had lain down to rest beside her son Garvin,
who had been slightly wounded. In the morning Garvin could not wake
her; age and exhaustion had taken her in her sleep.

Of the scouts: Zo was assumed lost until she
staggered into camp the following day, suffering the effects of a
blow to the head. She would be ill for days, but would recover. Of
Maud, who had been ranging the area on nine-side, and whose
disappearance had been the first sign of battle, there was no
sign.

Rowan learned this over breakfast, which she
took early. Kree's band had risen before dawn; they were scheduled
to guard on six-side that day. Rowan had chosen to rise with them.
Her dreams had been as full of visions of battle and blood as had
been her restless hours before sleep. Rowan did not wish to prolong
the experience.

An exhausted mertutial, one of Chess's
assistants, told the news as he served them a cold breakfast. Kree
thanked him, then turned to business. She counted heads. "Where's
Averryl?"

"Here." He approached from the center of
camp. Rowan had last seen him assisting Mander; presumably he had
done so all night.

Kree disapproved. "I told you to get some
rest."

"I did. For two hours, when things got slow.
I'm ready."

"We don't know how many Face People are still
out there. We might need to fight again."

"Good. I'm looking forward to it."

Kree made a sound of disgruntled resignation.
"And Fletcher?" He, too, had not returned to the tent the previous
night.

"He knew we were going out early. I expect
he's off for some early prayers."

"Off and back again." Fletcher approached,
his form a narrow shadow against star-dusted blue.

"Good." Kree settled down to give out
assignments. "We'll be short on the inner half, with Mare gone,"
she began.

"No, you won't." Bel emerged from the tent,
rubbing her fists against still-sleepy eyes. "It's been almost a
year since I served on the circles," she said, and yawned, "but I
think I remember how to do it."

Kree paused long. Someone commented, "She
doesn't know our signals."

"That's true," Kree said. "Averryl, take her
aside and show her some signals." No one protested when Rowan moved
closer to watch.

The mertutial who had served them was gone.
Rowan had not touched her breakfast. She passed it to Bel.

Light slowly grew, the flat pastel of
predawn. People and objects seemed to wear the pale colors like
paint on their surfaces and skins. The only tones that held any
depth were the sea gray of Averryl's eyes; the rich earth brown of
Bel's; and the fragmenting, shifting blue of the jewels on Bel's
belt, glittering as she moved, testing the shapes of the signals
she learned.

Pieces of the fallen Guidestar, Rowan
thought. She found herself gazing up at the Eastern Guidestar,
Averryl's lesson forgotten. The Guidestar stood in its assigned
place in the sky, glowing brilliantly, reflecting the light of the
unrisen sun.

It came to Rowan that Kree was taking rather
long to get her band in motion. She looked at the chief, at the
moment the chief herself glanced up, sighting something toward the
center of camp. Kree stood. "Fletcher." He glanced up. She
beckoned, and he rose to follow her. The members of the band looked
at each other in perplexity, then trailed along behind.

Kree led Fletcher to the fire pit, where
Kammeryn stood musing over the fire tenders' preparations. The
seyoh nodded once to her in greeting, and to Fletcher, then adopted
a studiously casual pose that caused all within sight to drop
conversation to watch. The interaction that would follow was
clearly intended to seem personal, while constituting a public
display.

Seeing this, Fletcher visibly shied, found an
instant to send Rowan one bleak glance, then composed himself and
stood waiting. Rowan became aware that Jann had joined the crowd
and was watching with an expression that included a certain degree
of anticipation of satisfaction.

The seyoh spoke. "Fletcher, at the time of
the attack, you were assigned to watch the steerswoman. Her
presence here was meant to serve as a guarantee that Bel would not
betray us to another tribe."

Kammeryn's black eyes were carefully mild.
Fletcher's sky-blue gaze was held by them as if at swordpoint. He
nodded mutely.

"Your orders were that if we were attacked,
you must kill Rowan, as payment for betrayal." Kammeryn glanced
about at the watching Outskirters, then turned back to Fletcher.
"My orders were based upon the facts that I had at hand. They were
good orders.

"But when the attack took place, you were
there. I was not. You saw what was happening. I did not. With what
you saw, and what you knew, you decided to spare Rowan's life.

"Your decision was correct."

Fletcher's tense posture slacked, and he
stood loose-boned and amazed. At the edge of her vision, Rowan saw
Jann's face as a pale shape, her mouth a dark spot above a dropped
jaw.

The seyoh continued. "Had you followed your
orders blindly, the result would have been a pointless loss of
life. Your judgment in this was more complete than mine. I would
like to believe that all my warriors use their intelligence when
faced with the unexpected, that they consider all the facts at
hand. Thank you for proving my belief correct."

Kammeryn turned and wandered away, returning
to his musing. A mutter of conversation rose from the watchers, and
Averryl let out a loud and delighted "Ha!"

Kree clapped the still-gaping Fletcher on the
shoulder. "Let's go."

As Kree led her band away, Fletcher turned to
Rowan as he passed. "Do you believe that?" But he did not wait for
her reply. She followed the band to the edge of camp.

As they were preparing to deploy, all the
band members stopped short, almost simultaneously. "What's that?"
Kree asked. Toward position six, Rowan saw a thick band of smoke
rising from beyond the hills.

Fletcher spoke up. "I saw it when I was out
at my prayers. I figure it's Ella's people burning their heroes."
The phrase sounded odd in conversation, like a line from an
Outskirter song.

Bel stepped forward and glowered at the
horizon. "No. That's not where Ella's tribe is." She did not
provide the other tribe's location; that information represented a
trust granted to her.

Kree looked for and found a relay; although
the man was within earshot, she signaled to him. Rowan recognized
the gesture meaning "investigation."

Fletcher spoke up. "Send me."

"You've had no sleep."

"I'm fine. But I feel responsible. I should
have reported it as soon as I saw it."

She studied him, then smiled wryly. "Very
well—since our seyoh puts so much store in your intelligence." The
compliment embarrassed him, and she laughed. "Take Averryl with
you."

Two mertutials had been approaching across
the pasture; arriving, they proved to be pulling a loaded train
between them. An Outskirter cloak was draped across the load,
concealing it from view.

As Kree's band departed, Averryl turned,
indicated the train with a lift of his chin, and addressed the
mertutials. "More dead?" he called.

The reply came back: "Maud."

The report was received before noon. Owing to
the terseness of Outskirter signals, the news was equivocal, both
reassuring and disturbing: Enemy discovered, no danger, position
secured. Unsurprisingly, the report was followed by a request to
debrief. Rowan was not present during the debriefing, but shortly
thereafter word of the findings began to circulate through the
camp.

Fletcher and Averryl had discovered what had
once been the camp of the Face People tribe. It had been destroyed
by fire in what must have been a surprise attack just before dawn.
There were a great many burned corpses among the ruins, and a
number of dead goblins who had been attracted by the fire; but no
living Face People were found.

The opinions of Kammeryn's tribespeople, when
they received the news, were mixed. No one was sorry to see the
Face People destroyed; but the method of extermination was not
considered quite honorable. Nevertheless, it seemed that Ella's
people had completed their revenge.

Rowan herself was neither pleased nor
distressed, but simply thought: More dead.

By late afternoon, there were few people
about in the camp: the fire tenders; three cook's assistants;
people carrying supplies to Mander, who was still at work; a few
mertutials engaged in only the most necessary chores. All others
were either on duty on the circles, out among the flocks, or
participating in the events taking place around the edges of
camp.

It occurred to Rowan that it might be useful
for her to observe the casting rite, and that she might even be
useful herself. She decided to assist. She wondered that she did
not feel more disturbed at the prospect, or even pleased at the
fact that she was not disturbed. She felt nothing at all. Even this
did not disturb her.