The army moved as quickly as they could but the ground began to rise into the mountains and it was harder going for the wagons. "We'll be through the pass in another week," the General sighed as we stopped at midday to water the animals at a stream. "It'll be better after that, with a downward trail until we get to the first of the valleys. If we're lucky, they'll be there, waiting for us. If we're not lucky, they'll retreat to the farthest valley, which means at least another week."
I nodded at the General's assessment. Wherever we met up with Green Birth, I'd have to make a decision as to what to do. I still hadn't come up with a good solution to this dilemma and it worried me. It rained as the day wound down, too—enough to make everyone wet and miserable in the gradually cooling temperatures. It was going to be a cold night.
The General called a halt at a likely camping spot—at least it was mostly level ground, though we were flanked by thick stands of trees on both sides. The HC got his troops stopped a little way ahead of us on the trail. He, with his seven bodyguards, came to eat in the officer's tent. While he was there, he never said a word to anyone other than his sycophants. He did glance our way several times while he was eating; his gaze wasn't friendly by any stretch. It made me wonder what the jerk was up to. The General breathed a relieved sigh when the HC and his mini-horde left.
The following day was steeper, higher and colder. I had my leather jacket on; nearly everybody was breathing misty breaths during the early morning. We rode into a thick fog around mid-afternoon, making it difficult to navigate. The fog was almost a light rain at times, which made all of us soggy and out of sorts. Four fights broke out after we camped because everybody's temper was so short. At one point, Solis left Warn with the General and took me with him to see if we could sort out one of the fights.
"He cut me off!" One Regular, who had a black eye and split lip, was accusing the one he'd fought with, who was nearly as bad off. He also sported a black eye and a bruised cheek.
"In this fog, that wouldn't be difficult," Solis barked, causing both to take a step back. Two Sergeants were there already, the female Sergeant being one of them. She didn't look happy with the men.
"Do we have to put you in chains, or will this stop?" Solis went on.
"I'm done," the first one muttered. The other merely nodded, hanging his head.
"Put them on guard duty, on opposite sides of camp," Solis ordered, and the female Sergeant nodded, issuing the command as Solis stalked off with me following at his heels. He cursed softly as we walked toward the General's tent in thickening fog.
Dinner was a sad affair, with the fog penetrating the cooking tents. Campfires were impossible and everyone was grumbling. Even I was finding it difficult to deal with the situation, but placed my usual shields around the officers' tents before going to bed. A hit against the shield on the southern edge had me awake and shivering three hours before dawn. I misted outward, to find what had triggered the alert.
The fog was even thicker, now, and I hadn't thought that possible. Fortunately, my mist could see right through it, and my scenting ability hadn't gone away, either. Three Red Hand spies, who'd used the cover the fog provided, carefully made their way through camp and right toward the General's tent. Armed with knives, they cautiously placed their feet, intent on making little noise. Of course, the fog helped with that particular strategy, as far as the humanoids were concerned. I heard them just fine.
As mist I followed along behind, just to make sure of their intent, and when they pulled knives and started cutting into the back of the General's tent, that's when I grabbed them.
* * *
Cordus, Solis and Desmun glared at our three prisoners, who were quaking as the General paced before them. So far, no information had come, but that was about to change. I stood in the far corner of the General's portion of the tent, watching and listening as the men were questioned. No useful information had been offered.
Pulling out my knife—the one Glinda had lent me, I walked toward the man in the center—he was the tallest at nearly six feet. I carefully placed the sharp tip of the knife beneath his chin. "You will tell the General exactly what he wants to know," I said, placing more compulsion. I laid it on his two companions, as well. They talked, but didn't know much.
"We were sent to kill the General," the one on the left whined. "We weren't told why. We follow orders." He had dark hair going gray and looked like one of the HC's mercenaries. More than likely an assassin, brought along to eliminate unwanted allies and adversaries alike. I was standing in my spot in the corner again while the General and the Captains did the questioning.
"Why did the High Commander send messengers to the Pelipu?" Solis demanded.
"We were not informed," the man in the center answered.
"The Red Ritual for the god was performed in Windle," the one on the right offered. That had Solis and Desmun both growling. I had to Look to see what that meant, and it almost made me growl, too. They had a target in mind. Someone that they could accuse of heresy or worse, and the ritual cleansed them from any responsibility for the torture and murder later. I wanted to hold my head—I felt a headache coming on. What new stupidity was this? Only it wasn't likely new stupidity. I figured it was an old, traditional stupidity. Amazing, isn't it, how some people will rationalize anything to get what they want?
"What shall we do with this scum?" Solis asked.
"I don't think the High Commander will come looking for them, do you?" the General looked at his Captains.
"No. He won't even ask about them," Desmun smiled grimly. The three men began to sweat, even in the cold, clammy air.
"Do it," the General jerked his head toward the tent's entrance. The spies were hauled away. I was thankful that I'd been left behind to guard the General. I wasn't fond of executions.
"Can I depend on you to let me know if anything else comes our way tonight?" The General asked me.
"Of course, sir," I nodded.
"You earned your pay tonight," the General said. "I'd like to go back to bed. You can turn in early tomorrow, if you want."
I nodded again and went toward my portion of the tent.
* * *
Belen studied the one who stood on the other side of his desk—the desk that Belen made to appear every time he chose corporeality. It had been several lifetimes—as humanoids measured time—since he'd had this one standing before him. "This is your choice, then? You have all the information?"