The Hidden City

‘I’ll certainly listen, Ezek.’ Valash raised his head sharply as the comatose Ogerajin began to mumble in his sleep.

‘Is he all right?’ Stragen asked.

‘It’s nothing,’ Valash said shortly. ‘He does that all the time. Go ahead, Ezek.’

‘Wal, sir, she wuz a couple weeks ago, I guess, an’ I wuz a-hot-footin’ it across Atan, figgerin’ t’ make m’ way on acrost Astel t’ Darsos – on accounta the law bein’ hot on m’ heels an’ all. I wuz a-comin’ on down outten th’ mountings when I pult up short, cuz I seen more gol-dang Atans than I thought they wuz in the hull world – I mean, they wint on fer miles! They wuz multitudes o’ them big rascals – all geared up fer war an a-lookin’ real mean an’ on-friendly-like.’

The entire Atan army?’ Valash exclaimed.

‘It lookt t’ me more like a gineral my-grashun of the hull dang race, Master Valash. Y’ aint’ niver seen s’ miny of ‘em!’

‘Where exactly were they?’ Valash asked excitedly.

‘Wal, sir, close ez I could make out, they wuz right close t’ the Cynesgan border – up thar close by a little town calt Zhubay. Iff’n y’ happen t’ have a map handy, I could point out th’ egg-zact spot fer ya.’ Caalador squinted at the Dacite. ‘Whut would y’ say this infer-maytion’s worth, Master Valash?’

Valash didn’t even hesitate when he reached for his purse.

‘It was very strange, Domi Tikume,’ Kring told his friend as they rode at the head of their massed tribesmen out into the Cynesgan Desert the morning after the conference on Aphrael’s island. ‘The Child Goddess said that we were all dreaming, but everything seemed so real. I could actually smell the flowers and the grass. I’ve never smelled anything in a dream before.’

Tikume looked dubious. ‘Are you sure it wasn’t heresy to go there, Domi Kring?’

Kring laughed wryly. ‘Well, if it was, I was in good company. Patriarch Emban was there, and so was Patriarch Bergs ten. Anyway, you and I are supposed to continue making these raids into Cynesga. Then we’re supposed to go ahead and ride on in toward those mountains out in the middle of the desert. We’re hoping that Prince Sparhawk will have pinpointed the exact location of Cyrga by the time we get there.’

One of the scouts who had been ranging out into the burnt brown desert ahead came galloping back. ‘Domi Tikume,’ he said as he reined in. ‘We’ve found them.’

‘Where?’ Tikume demanded.

‘There’s a dry watercourse about two miles ahead, Domi. They’re crouched down in there. I’d say they’re planning to ambush us.’

‘What sort of soldiers are they?’ Kring asked.

There was Cynesgan cavalry and more of those big ones with the steel masks that we’ve been running to death lately. There was some other infantry as well, but I didn’t recognize them.’

‘Breastplates? Short kirtles? Helmets with high crests, and big round shields?’

Those are the ones, Domi Kring.’

Kring rubbed one hand across his shaved scalp. ‘How wide is the water-course?’ he asked.

‘Fifty paces or so, Domi.’

‘Crooked? Fairly deep?’

The scout nodded.

‘It’s an ambush, all right,’ Kring said. ‘The cavalry probably intends to let us see them and then retreat into the gully. If we follow them, we’ll run right into the infantry. We’ve been running Klæl’s soldiers to death in open country, so they want to get us into tight quarters.’

‘What do we do?’ Tikume asked.

‘We stay out of that stream-bed, friend Tikume. Send out flankers to cut off their cavalry after they ride out. We’ll slaughter them, and that should bring Klæl’s soldiers out into the open.’

‘What about the Cyrgai? Are they more of those ones out of the past that we keep coming across?’

‘I don’t think so. This is inside the borders of Cynesga, so they’re probably live ones from Cyrga itself.’ Kring stopped suddenly, and a slow grin crossed his face. I just thought of something. Send out your flankers, friend Tikume. Give me some time to think my way through this.’

‘That’s a particularly nasty grin there, friend Kring,’

‘I’m a particularly nasty fellow sometimes, friend Tikume,’ Kring replied, his grin growing even wider.

‘Slavers,’ Mirtai said shortly after she had peered down the rocky hill at the column creeping slowly across the barren brown gravel toward the village clustered around the oasis. The almost instantaneous change from the humidity of the Arjuni jungle to the arid Cynesgan Desert had given Sparhawk a slight headache.

‘How can you tell at this distance?’ Bevier asked her.

‘Those hooded black robes,’ she replied peering again over the boulder which concealed them. ‘Slavers wear them when they come into Cynesga so that the local authorities won’t interfere with them. Cynesga’s about the only place left where slavery’s openly legal. The other kingdoms frown on it.’

‘There’s a thought, Sparhawk,’ Bevier said. ‘If we could get our hands on some of those black robes, we’d be able to move around out in the desert without attracting attention.’

‘We don’t look very much like Arjuni, Bevier,’ Kalten objected.

‘We don’t have to,’ Talen told him. ‘From what I heard back in Beresa, there are bands of raiders out in the desert who ambush the caravans in order to steal the slaves, so the Arjuni slavers hire lots of fighting men of all races to help protect the merchandise.’

‘Oh,’ Kalten said. ‘I wonder where we could lay our hands on black robes.’

‘I see a hundred or so of them right out there,’ Bevier said, pointing at the caravan.

‘Elenes,’ Xanetia sighed, rolling her eyes upward.

‘You’re even starting to sound like Sephrenia, Anarae,’ Sparhawk said with a faint smile. ‘What are we overlooking?’

‘Robes of any shade or hue will serve, Anakha,’ she explained patiently, ‘and doubtless may be obtained in Vigayo close by yon oasis.’

‘They have to be black, Anarae,’ Bevier objected.

‘Color is an aspect of light, Sir Bevier, and I am most skilled at controlling light.’

‘Oh,’ he said. ‘I guess I didn’t think of that.’