Chapter 28

Mato was shocked at how easy it was to slip up on the wisdoms and other trail masters. They should have noticed the heads of grass where he moved, or heard the faint rustle. Instead they were focused on themselves.

“We have failed again,” Poplar said.

“Your lack of faith is appalling,” Ice Foot said.

“You do not understand,” Poplar said. “Mato is a prodigy. He sees a technique one or two times, and then it is his. If you try to fight him again, it will be like fighting yourself. There is something about him that soaks up the techniques of others. He does it by watching, by sparring, and probably by sleeping.”

“Ridiculous,” Ice Foot said.

“Please do not ridicule Wisdom Poplar,” Tupi said. “He speaks truly. I fear that only Sotsona can defeat Mato.”

“You speak of him in such glowing terms,” Elki said. “What of his master?”

“Ezhno is different,” Poplar said. “He is a bigger threat than Mato, but this will change soon.”

“So you truly think one of them could have beaten us?” said the trail master Mato had fought.

Poplar nodded. “Uzumati, they were not fighting today. They were defending themselves. Mato killed a cave snail on the outbound leg. He did it alone, and so quickly we did not see what was done.”

“Not impossible, but certainly not easy,” Uzumati said.

“Then he and Ezhno killed a ground shaker worm,” Tupi said.

“Killed it?”

“Yes.”

Uzumati took a step back. “You should have told us that before we fought. I would have recommended another course of action.”

“Recriminations do us no good,” the second trail master said. “What we need now is a plan. What do we do, and when?”

“Good advice, Elsu,” Poplar said. “We have two whole cohorts who have heard this heinous claim against Elki. That is a lot of bodies to bury, particularly since three of them are powerful.”

“Three?” Elki asked.

“Yes,” Tupi said. “Moki Eagle Wing has a serpent blade. He has been receiving instruction from Ezhno, and he slew a beast the size of a city. He has twelve runes already.”

“Thirteen,” Poplar said.

“Wait,” Elsu said. “You have a finder who already has thirteen runes? How many does Ezhno have?”

“Perhaps eighteen or twenty,” Poplar said.

“Too many for a man of twelve years’ practice,” Uzumati said. “The boy with thirteen is not a threat, not yet. He will not know how to use them.”

Poplar rubbed at the bandage around the cut on his right arm. “They killed a feather serpent, the three of them.”

“That is a lie,” Elki said. “It has to be.”

“We were attacked in the open,” Tupi said. “Mato defended the cohort, and then followed after Ezhno and Moki drew the thing away.”

“I understand now,” said Ice Foot. “I apologize for questioning your courage. Clearly only Sotsona can handle them. Or at a minimum we need the guard.”

“What about our plan?” Elsu asked.

“We return to Abo and let Sotsona decide,” Poplar said.

“What if we have an opportunity to kill one of them?” Elsu asked.

Poplar shook his head vigorously. “First, you saw what happened today. How did Ezhno know I was coming? We were in the grasses. Second, we have three threats who may be able to kill all of us. Killing one simply alerts the remaining two.”

“Why did we not try to kill Moki today?” Elsu asked.

“Because Moki is young. He may yet be reclaimed. It is Ezhno who is beyond redemption, and Mato has spent far too much time with him,” Uzumati said.

“We are fortunate in one thing,” Tupi said. “Ezhno believes he may earn Sotsona’s grace. He does not know that the king suspects him. All we need do is allow Ezhno to lead us home, and then initiate the trial.”

* * *

Mato waited in place until they left, then he crept back to his bedroll.

“What did you learn?” Ezhno whispered from his bedroll.

The grasses rustled, and Mato wondered if one of the wisdoms were there, waiting to strike. Should he tell Ezhno? If someone was spying on them, then he would only be letting them know that he knew.

Mato cast a low shield over the two of them, blocking sound. In the darkness it would be hard to see, so people would likely not know they were discussing something private.

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“Sotsona suspects you of treason. They are going to return home with us, and allow us to begin the trial.”

“So two of us, six of them, and I could have made that sketch anytime. It isn’t necessarily of anything real.”

“They consider Moki part of our conspiracy. They will not try to kill us unless they can get all three of us.”

Ezhno sighed. “That is another complication. Moki is not my responsibility, so I have limited ability to protect him. We must continue on as we have. You have done well to make friends among the seekers and finders, but the rules are clear about who is responsible for them.”

Mato dropped the sound blocking on his shield, but left the rest in place. Keeping it active while he slept was easy, and his fear of ambush was great.

Morning brought a meeting with all of the senior people. Mato was allowed to listen, but not speak. The six other leaders wanted to return to Abo and sort things out. Ezhno agreed without condition.

“What will come of us, Wisdom?” one of the new seekers asked.

“It is rare that seekers turn back, but I am reasonably certain that another cohort will be assembled next spring. Those of you selected this time will be considered first when the new cohort is formed,” Elki said.

“Does ‘considered’ mean we may not be selected, Wisdom?”

“I am saying that I cannot promise you anything. Nevertheless, I do not believe you have any reason to worry. It may be disappointing to turn back now, but you are not a failed seeker. You will earn another chance.”

“Thank you, Wisdom.”

“Of course. Please tell the rest of your cohort about this conversation.”

That was a little cold. Elki clearly had no idea what would happen to them, and not only did he not mind giving them false hope, he wanted this seeker to do it, so he would not have to speak to the rest of them.

Mato slipped back into the grasses, every sense alert to the approach of wielders with grass blades. He shook his head. The only effective thing he could do was keep his guardian effect active, and he was doing that all of the time.

* * *

They stopped briefly at Nambe. Only the priests were allowed inside to buy supplies. Then they returned to the trail, working closer and closer to the salts.

Mato felt bad for the new seekers. Well, the old seekers too. Both groups had been cheated on this journey. One by never having a chance to try, the other by trying and failing. He spent as much time with Otaktay as he could, and noticed that the young man was doing his best to pass the lessons to his friends. It helped in at least one way; they did not have any more suicides.

Crossing the salts from the other direction was strange. He knew he was going home, but the grasslands and forests were so much friendlier to life. Out here a person could get stuck without water, and they would be gone in a day or two.

They had five followers. Moki, Otaktay, and three other failed seekers. Hardly useful allies, but Mato tried not to worry about that. Instead he spent time with all of them, teaching them wrestling, knife fighting, and swordsmanship. Ezhno monitored the lessons, speaking up every now and then to add something.

Meanwhile the wisdoms separated the groups. Anyone who went to Ezhno or Mato was shunned, and so the two sides solidified.

Ezhno’s group benefited from the water of life, and Mato’s shield. Moki had regeneration from his sword, and apparently three sources of healing was beneficial. He covered huge distances, scouting in every direction, and even Mato could not keep up.

Day nine on the salts Ezhno told the group that they were nearly home. One more moderate day, perhaps a march and a half, and they would be in Abo again.

That night Ezhno patted him awake. Mato rose, belted on his sword, and followed Ezhno up the trail. Shortly after they passed their own sentries they caught sight of shapes in the starlight.

“Wagons,” Ezhno said.

“I can barely see anything,” Mato said.

“I have the rune sight now.”

“True. What do you see?”

“Wagons. It is Erik Bloodaxe.”

Erik’s scouts stopped them four hundred paces from the wagons.

“Friend or foe?”

“Friends, Ezhno Trail Master and Mato Stone Foot,” Ezhno said.

“Thank the spirits,” the guard said. “I remember you from before. Follow me.”

When they reached Erik the sun was just cresting the horizon. In the morning light, Mato could see that Erik was soaked in blood, and his men were as well.

“Why did you send me to this pit, Ezhno Trail Master?” the giant growled. “I thought you were an honest man.”

“I meant you only fortune, Erik Bloodaxe,” Ezhno said. “Please tell me what has happened?”

Part of it was obvious. When they’d met Erik before there had been about thirty men. Now there were about a dozen.

“Your king took Thyra from me,” Erik roared. His hand went back over his shoulder, and then he rushed them with his giant ax.

Mato moved away and let Ezhno handle it. He pushed through his guardian pair, just to give his teacher an edge, then got out of the way.

Ezhno did not need an edge. He moved like a snake, twisting out of the way of chops, lunges, kicks and punches. He was close to Erik at all times, but never drew his own blade. For minutes they danced, with Erik growing increasingly angry, but after a time he slowly calmed.

“I remember you being somewhat easier to fight,” Erik said.

“I remember you being somewhat friendlier,” Ezhno said. He offered his hand, and Erik shook.

“Your king stole my wife, Ezhno. You told me Abo would trade fairly.”

Ezhno paused and his eyes darted back and forth as he thought. “That can’t be. Did she leave you of her own will?”

Erik roared and brought his ax down. Ezhno slipped around it and pushed Erik just enough to give himself the space to elude the next swipe.

“Talk to me, Erik,” Ezhno said. “Please.”

The giant dropped his ax and clenched both hands, then screamed in rage. “They took Thyra from me.”

“Tell me what happened,” Ezhno said.

* * *

They had crossed the salts, and as they entered Abo they hid the women in the wagons. Erik and the men spent a day bargaining and deciding what to do next, but the city seemed well-managed.

Erik brought Thyra out in public with him. Scarcely an hour later Sotsona arrived. He ignored Erik, held out his hand to Thyra, and said she would be his new wife.

Erik had dueled him, and been unable to hit Sotsona. In return he had been stabbed repeatedly. Sotsona dragged Thyra away.

Meanwhile the northmen were assailed by the city guards. Hundreds of men descended on them, and they fought as well as they were able. Despite their strength and training, eighteen men fell.

Erik arrived at Abo with twelve wagons and fifty horses. Now he had two wagons and eight horses. His wife was in Sotsona’s palace. Over half of his remaining men were gone, and they had a single barrel of water remaining.