Circle of Thieves: Legends of Dimmingwood (6 page)

She trailed off for a moment as if lost in the memories and
then shook herself before asking, “Can you guess how I’m familiar with the
invaders?”

“Because they’re Skeltai war parties?”

It would explain a lot, not least of which was how the
invading warriors managed to create a magic circle to transport them away from
Hammond’s Bend.

But I kept some of these thoughts to myself. I couldn’t have
her asking how I recognized that the circle was magic. I wasn’t prepared to
admit my experience on the subject, not even to someone who confessed to being
a full-blooded Skeltai.

What I did say was, “Rideon is convinced the Skeltai raiders
are no threat to the outlaws. He thinks they’ll attack the villages for a
while, grow bored of the slaughter, and go home. Do you think that’ll happen?”

She snorted. “Of course not. Why should they stop at the
raiding of a few villages when there’s no one fighting them back? It’s too
easy. Anyway, Skeltai never tire of bloodshed. Rideon doesn’t know of what he
speaks

I checked the defense that nearly leapt to my lips. Old habit
prompted me to defend the Hand but even I had to admit his thinking seemed
irrational.

I said, “What do you think they’re after, these Skeltai?
There was no looting at Hammond’s Bend. They came out of nowhere and left as
suddenly as they appeared. We looked over every cabin afterwards and not so
much as a spoon was taken. It really seemed like their only intention was to
create havoc, murder a number of people, and run off with a handful of others
as captives. What was their aim?”

“You have said it,” she answered. “To steal away the
villagers. At least, that’s what I believe, although I’ve never known them to
reach so far for their captives. I remember stories my Meherra used to frighten
me with as a child. Threats of how the Sageuon would send their warriors out to
snatch up evil-doers to sacrifice for the Sagara Nouri.”

“Sacrifices?” I repeated. “You aren’t saying the Skeltai are
snatching villagers out of Dimmingwood to use in their bloody rites?”

She shifted uncomfortably. “Sagara Nouri is approaching,”
she admitted.  “This year the sacrifices have special religious
significance, according to the Skeltai calendar. I think that’s why they’re
suddenly reaching this far for new victims. They do a series of smaller blood
rites in the months building up to the big night.”

I swallowed my disgust. “Why? What started all of this?”

She shrugged. “It could be there’s a drought in the Black
Forrest and the people want to appease the gods with fresh blood. Could just be
extra rites to mark the death of someone important or the confirmation of a new
High Sageuon. We can’t do more than guess.”

I glared into the darkness, remembering the destruction at
Hammond’s Bend, thinking of a certain little girl I had buried there, and
imagining the fates of the villagers who had been taken for sacrifice.

I said, “If these savages think we’ll allow them to continue
snatching our people unopposed, they’ll soon discover otherwise.”

She said, “Maybe we should let the Praetor’s Fists deal with
it.”

“The Fists aren’t clever enough to root out a nest of
outlaws at their front door,” I pointed out. “I think we can consider any help
from them little better than opposition. No, it’s up to us to find a way to
push the invaders out.”

“Rideon has forbidden involvement.” She wasn’t protesting,
just reminding me.

“Then he’s wrong,” I said, my view of life and the world
reordering itself as I spoke the words. “If the Red Hand can’t be made to see
the consequences this will have on all of us—”

Ada said, “I’ve tried to talk to him—”

But I didn’t let her finish. “If he won’t interfere in
events and refuses to use the strength of the band to defend the wood villagers
and keep the Skeltai out of our territory, then I’ll do it without him. No,
we
will do it without him. I know our men, perhaps better than Rideon himself
knows them. Once they understand what’s happening in Dimmingwood, most will
want to step forward and fight to defend what’s ours.”

Ada looked as surprised at my rebellious declaration as I
was. But all she said was, “And what of Rideon? What will he do to those who
enter the fight against his wishes?”

I considered that. “Maybe he doesn’t have to know. Maybe it
doesn’t need to be that kind of a fight.”

“I don’t understand. There’s only one way to go about a
war.”

“I’m not so certain. Let me think about it. In the mean
time, do me a favor, would you?”

“What?”

“I want a meeting tomorrow night at Horse Head Rock. All the
outlaws should know the truth of what’s happening.”

“Rideon ordered secrecy,” she reminded me. “Once you defy
him, there’ll be no going back.”

“I’m not going to defy him, not openly anyway. But can I
trust you not to tell him what’s passed between us?”

She shrugged. “Why not? Us savages might as well stick
together.”

“Don’t say that. I’m no Skeltai. I was born right here in
the Province.”

“Say what you will,” she said, “but you’ve my fair hair and
skin. Neither of us will ever quite fit in among normal folk.”

“Speak for yourself. As for me, I’m right where I belong.
But I’ve been away awhile, while you’ve been here in Dimming. You know the
moods of the outlaws these days—who can be trusted and who’ll go running to
Rideon.”

I chewed on my thumbnail. “Kinsley’s Rideon’s creature, I
know that. Dradac will help us. And Kipp, I think. Maybe Javen…” I let my voice
trail off, mentally counting how many supporters I could be certain of.

As if following my thoughts, Ada said, “I think you’ll be
disappointed at how few will be prepared to listen to you. Rideon’s followers
are loyal.”

“Maybe, but we’ll make do with what we can get.”

She fell silent, and I wondered how far I could trust even
her. There was a time when I would have had another companion to back me up.

Looking out over the dark treetops of Dimmingwood, I
wondered briefly where Terrac was tonight and if he were well, before
dismissing him from my mind. I had a rebellion to plot.

Chapter
Seven

Despite Ada’s pessimistic prediction, there were over a
dozen of us gathered at Horse Head Rock the following night. I made it a point
to be the first one there, although it took some doing to get off my watch
early without creating suspicion. I needed to make it clear I was
wholeheartedly serious about this scheme, and by being there to greet each
outlaw as he arrived, I hoped I was fixing it in all their minds that I was
taking the bulk of the risk and responsibility for this treasonous meeting.

Dradac kept at my elbow, trying to wheedle out of me the
truth behind all the secrecy, but I kept my silence until I was certain
everyone who meant to attend had filtered in. When the men started shifting
impatiently at the prolonged wait, I exchanged looks with Ada, who gave a
slight nod. It was time. The gathering fell silent as I scrambled to the top of
the big rock shaped like a horse’s head where I could look out over my small
audience.

No verbal agreement had been made between Ada and I, but I
had settled it in my mind that I should be the one to open the meeting. If
things didn’t go as planned, I wouldn’t have her taking the blame for my idea.
Looking out over the expectant faces, each palely lit beneath the light of the
full moon, I almost lost my nerve. How could I be certain none of them would
betray me to Rideon? I took a deep breath and the moment of uncertainty passed.

I said, “Friends, I know many of you are wondering why we’re
here. Maybe some have already guessed and come to lend your voices to the
discussion, while others attend out of curiosity. First, let me say that
whatever your reasons, I’m glad you all chose to come. Secondly, I have to warn
you that the things we’ll discuss in this circle tonight are of a secretive
nature. Any of you who cannot hold your tongues are given this final
opportunity to leave.”

There was an indignant stirring within the group at this,
but I had to be clear on the point. Rideon wasn’t the man to tolerate
dissention and anyone speaking up tonight would risk everything on the silence
of the rest.

I held up a hand to still the murmurings, saying, “I’m
sorry. I know I can, and have, trusted many of you with my life in the past. You’ve
all been deemed dependable men—if it was otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.”

A balding man I recognized as one of Dradac’s friends spat
and stepped forward.  “As both Rideon and his second in command are
absent, would I be safe in guessing what you’ve got to say doesn’t meet with
the Hand’s approval?” he asked.

I hesitated before admitting, “Rideon hasn’t forbidden this
meeting, but only because he has no notion of its existence. If he did, we
would not, any of us, be here. That is the reason for the secrecy.”

I held my breath, but no one stormed away yet. There were a
few uneasy glances, but most shrugged and waited to hear what would be said
next. Relived to have kept my audience this far, I launched into an explanation
of the Skeltai raids and of Rideon’s determination to keep the facts from his
outlaws.

Everyone had heard of the attacks but few knew the details.
As I told how the villagers at Hammond’s Bend had been slaughtered by the
Skeltai invaders, I sensed their growing anger at the fate that had befallen
our woods allies. I emphasized the cowardly nature of the attacks, and the way
the enemy had sprung out of nowhere in the dead of night. I didn’t give any
dire predictions but insinuated a similar fate could befall us or others of our
friends at any time. When I had finished the tale, I called up the two scouts
who had been the first to bring Rideon news of the destruction at Hammond’s
Bend. I had instructed Ada to be sure to install them in the audience to lend
weight to our case.

They now gave chilling descriptions of the sights they had
encountered and the barbaric treatment of the helpless villagers. When they
left off speaking, Ada came forward and gave the others the same information
she had shared with me on the blood rites leading up to the Skeltai celebration
of Sagara Nouri. This was a calculated move on my part, saving the gruesome
fates of the stolen villagers as the final words the outlaws would hear.

When Ada fell silent, I decided it was time to play my final
card. I announced, “Ada has told me that as soon as our scouts came to Rideon
to report the attack on Hammond’s Bend, she realized the connection. She
recognized the descriptions she was given of the raiders and identified them to
Rideon by one of the weapons they left behind. One of the scouts brought this.”

Ada brought out the Skeltai spear I had instructed her to
bring and held it out for the others to examine. She pointed out light etchings
spiraling down the shaft of the weapon and told us, “These are magical runes
spelled by the Skeltai shamans to grant the bearer of the weapon great strength
and skill.” She fingered the bits of feathers and bones strung on a leather
thong around the spear head, and I realized for the first time the resemblance
they bore to the ornaments she wore braided into her own silver-blue locks.

“These are Skeltai ornaments meant to protect the warrior,”
she explained. “And the spearhead is made of the red-streaked stone beyond the
Black Forest.”

To emphasize that point, she drew a dagger with a similar
blade from the inside of her boot and passed it around for examination. “A
relic of my past,” she admitted.

One outlaw snatched the blade, and on comparison, had to
admit the two weapons bore an unmistakable similarity. Others murmured
agreement.

Now was the time to tell them everything. I said to the
gathering, “I didn’t call you all together only to disclose who was behind the
attack on Hammond’s Bend. I came here tonight with the intention of asking your
help. I want to hunt the Skeltai raiders down, or barred the means to do that,
at least find a way to thwart them from crossing into Dimmingwood again. I
can’t accomplish either objective alone.”

The outlaw Nib had a question. “Are we to take it this
hunting down of Skeltai is meant to be carried out without Rideon’s knowledge?
Surely there can be no other reason why he’s not standing among us now.”

I hid my surprise that the observation came from Nib. I had
never suspected the burly man of possessing the wit to get out more than three-word
sentences.

I answered bluntly, “Rideon has forbidden the band’s
involvement in this matter, so any man who wishes to join the cause will do so
counter to his orders. I intend to keep our activities as secret as possible,
but I won’t lie to you—there will always be a chance someone in our circle may
betray our plans to Rideon. Or even that Rideon himself will simply become
suspicious. He is known, after all, for being a difficult man to fool.”

“He is that,” the outlaws agreed, some with low chuckles of
pride.

I wasn’t disturbed by their admiration for our captain. Part
of me still shared it, even as the newer and wiser part knew our affection was
misplaced.

Keeping the movement discreet, I reached a hand back to
stroke the smooth wooden arm of the bow slung across my back. At my caress, a
soft voiceless whisper stirred to wakefulness in the recesses of my mind.
Reassured by the contact, I turned my attention back to the men before me, to
see that Dradac at the forefront of the gathering was looking at me strangely.

I met his gaze with what I hoped was a reassuring look.

Then I told the others, “I’m as devoted to Rideon as any of
you. But I think we can agree that for once…” I struggled for the right words,
ones that would make my point without seeming like an attack against the Hand.
“I don’t believe this particular order of his to be the best,” I said at last.

Dradac’s asked, “And exactly what is it you would have us
do?”

I had anticipated the question and had my answer ready. “We
already have a strong observation network throughout most of Dimming and the
woods villages. Rideon himself has boasted to me of the wide range of his spy
network. I propose we put together a similar network or even set to work
winning over Rideon’s own spies to our cause. They can still make their regular
reports to Rideon, but there will be other more detailed reports for our ears
alone. For example, I don’t think any of us have any notion yet as to how the
Skeltai move their warriors from one location to the next with such speed. I
know I haven’t been able to figure it out. But even the stealthiest of armies
cannot pass through Dimming unmarked by those who know how to look for them.
Our scouts will comb the forest daily for sign of them.

Our spies in the woods villages will be quick to get word to
us of an army on the move. We should be prepared to act at the first suggestion
of another attack. In this way, I believe we have a chance at preventing
another tragedy like Hammond’s Bend.”

Seeing they weren’t thoroughly convinced yet, I hesitated
before adding, “I won’t pretend my motives for this scheme are entirely
unselfish. I suspect a number of you are inwardly asking the question, what is
it to us what becomes of the woods villagers?

True, we’ve an alliance against the Fists but are we bound
to risk our lives for their protection? We’re thieves after all, and by
definition, care first for ourselves. Why defend our neighbors?”

The number of guilty faces looking back at me proved I had
read their thoughts accurately.

I said, “You’re right to ask yourselves these questions. And
the answer is no, we aren’t obligated to aid the woods folk. In similar
circumstances, I doubt they would do as much for us.”

Nods followed my words but I didn’t let them get too
comfortable. I said, “But let me ask you something, my brothers. If we turn a
blind eye to the Skeltai raids, how long do you think it will be before the
savages turn next on us? We’ve always held out against the Fists, but how well
will we stand against a fierce enemy like the Skeltai? An enemy we know little
about, one with unknown mystical powers at its disposal.”

A thoughtful silence fell over the gathering. I suspected it
was my final reminder of the Skeltai magic that had really captured their
consideration. Many of these men had spent a lifetime beneath Dimming’s shadow
and woods folk were always a superstitious lot.

After a prolonged silence Dradac cleared his throat. I tried
not to tense, for fear everyone would see how uncertain I was. “You make a good
point, Ilan,” he said. “I, for one, am willing to join you in a fight against
the raiders. You have also my vow of silence on all things related to
this…secret circle of yours.”

I smiled. I should have known my old friend wouldn’t abandon
me when I was depending on his support. The others were quick to come forward
after that, one by one, giving their pledges of support. By the end of it all,
only two men had refused involvement out of loyalty to Rideon, and from them,
we easily extracted vows of silence. If they wouldn’t join our rebellion,
neither would they do anything to oppose it.

At the conclusion of the meeting, our inner circle contained
eleven members, and Ada confided to me she might find a couple more, given time
to sound things out. It was a small start, but I was satisfied.