Chapter 18

Angling in from the south, a small party headed toward the same pass. Jewel and Holmar strode easily along in the lead, followed by Kolmar and the shorter figure of King Norgan. The King's pudgy legs pumped in a desperate effort to match the longer strides of his companions, but ever more frequently his steps would lag. Each time he dropped back he would hear a low snarl and a clashing of Kim's fangs behind him, and he would hastily pick up his pace.

The sun beat down from a nearcloudless sky, and his throat felt dry as dust. At last he could stand it no longer.

"Princess!" His cry was a gasping croak. "You're killing me! I can't go any farther!"

Jewel glanced back at his sweating face. "Poor little King, of course we can stop. Kolmar, give King Norgan a drink of water from your flask. I'm afraid he isn't used to this kind of exercise."

Norgan gave her a look in which resentment and gratitude were strongly intermingled. He drank deeply from the proffered flask, plumping himself down on a mossy bank.

"Now, Princess, won't you please tell me what this is all about? Why are you doing all of this, and where are you taking me?"

"I suppose that it would only be fair to tell you," she replied, smiling sweetly down at him. "In the first place, I'm not really a princess. I came here from across the western mountains with a trading caravan. When we learned how you and your people were keeping the True Folk as slaves, treating them like so many farm animals, we decided to help them escape."

"What's wrong with the way they're treated? We take good care of them," he protested. "They need someone to tell them what to do. They certainly aren't capable of running their own lives."

"You are very wrong, Norgan. On the other side of the mountains there are many villages of True Folk. They live by themselves, grow their own food, run their own lives. They make mistakes, but who doesn't? They seem to do as well as anyone else, as far as that goes."

"I'm sorry, my dear Princess, but I just don't believe you. If they lived like that among true men you would end up with nothing but a bunch of crossbreeds, and you can't have that happening."

"Why can't you?"

"Well, you you just can't! It wouldn't be right!"

"On the other side of the mountains many people show traces of True Folk ancestry. Hardly anybody thinks less of them for that. One of the most valuable members of our caravan is a man from a True Folk village, and he has proved time after time to be one of our most valuable men. Now then, up on your feet. You've rested long enough."

At this King Norgan lapsed into a sullen silence, muttering to himself and shaking his head in disbelief as he trotted along behind his captors.

It was evening of the next day when they reached the rendezvous camp. King Norgan's displeasure had settled itself into a cloud of gloom that could almost be seen hanging over his head. Sentries had warned of their coming, running ahead to alert the camp, and a small group was waiting to meet them.

"Welcome to our camp, Brother!" shouted Riggan. Fresh air and good food had worked wonders for him. His eyes sparkled with good health, and already he was less gaunt. Though streaked with premature threads of silver by his ordeal, his flowing hair and beard were neatly combed and trimmed.

"Riggan! But but they told me you were dead!" King Norgan's face paled, and he shrank back fearfully at the sight of his brother. "How did you escape from the dungeon?"

"I may tell you some day, if we both live long enough. Or maybe I'll just put you down in that same hole and let you figure out for yourself how to get out of there."

"Then at least tell me why you really had me brought here. I've been dragged through the forest at night, fed tall tales about villages of Hairy Ones actually governing themselves, and made to march day after day with nothing to drink but water!"

"I'm not the one who had you brought here, though I was the one who suggested it. I'm not even in command of this business, a man called Nurm is. You'll probably meet him in a day or two. He's out with a hundred or so True Folk women, and incidentally True Folk is their own name for themselves, leading your soldiers around in circles. Why are you here? We thought that for you to turn up missing would cause even more confusion than having you found messily dead in your own chambers. About the True Folk governing themselves, you will have to wait for Mak to get here. You can make up your own mind after you meet him."

"And just who is this Mak character? Why should meeting him change my mind?"

"He's one of the True Folk from the other side of the mountains. Right now he's headed this way, bringing with him all the True Folk men from the castle."

"I think that the whole bunch of you are crazy," retorted the little King. "Saying that these," he swept an arm in an arc to cover the whole camp, "could actually fight and defeat my soldiers. Why, not one of them is big and strong enough to swing a club or throw a spear as far as the poorest soldier in my army!"

"You may be right about that, Brother, but the new weapons that Nurm has given them more than make up the difference. Our runners tell us that we have already beaten your soldiers twice, without losing a single woman." He turned to Jewel. "Now that we have him, what'll we do with him? We can't always stand guard over him, and you probably won't let me kill him. I'm sure that you and Nurm wouldn't like it if I were to slit his throat after you've gone to all this trouble bringing him here."

"No, there's no sense in killing anyone if you don't really have to. We'll just put him where he won't get hurt, for now." She whistled shrilly through her fingers and a squad of True Folk women trotted up, crossbows at the ready. "Take this one and put him with the other prisoners."

King Norgan eyed the weapons of his captors with fear overlaid with poorly concealed interest. They led him to a small stockade made of tree trunks woven tightly together with branches. Inside its gate he found a squad of disarmed soldiers sitting disconsolately around, doing nothing. Their leader, a young decan, glanced up at the newcomer, then leaped to his feet.

"Your Majesty! How did you get here? Are you all right?"

"Stand easy, Decan. They took me right out of my own bed by some kind of sorcery. How long have you been here?"

"Since last evening, your Highness. We were patrolling around the outside of the city wall when we ran into a band of loose shelka. While we were trying to round them up, a man rode up and asked what was going on. He sounded like at least a Sentan. We were right up to him when we saw that it was Prince Riggan, back from visiting our friends to the north. By then a bunch of those new dartthrowers were pointing right down our throats. One of my men did try to do something and got a dart through his shoulder. The rest of us put down our clubs and spears and did what we were told. At least they feed us pretty well," he ended morosely, "but they won't tell us anything."

"Would you or any of your men know the way back to the city?"

"I'm sorry, your Highness. All I know is that we came mostly to the west." His face paled at the mere thought of venturing out into the forest on his own.

Their thoughts were diverted by the sound of the stockade gate swinging wide. Two True Folk women came in carrying platters of food. They were followed by a squad of alertlooking women armed with crossbows. The platters were set down and the women hurried back outside before the men could collect their wits.

"That's the way they did it before, too," grumbled the decan. "Hey, I wonder what the shouting's all about."

King Norgan peered out through the wall of the stockade in time to see Mak lead his band of tired men and boys into camp. They were immediately surrounded by a huge crowd of excited women. Laughing and crying, they all seemed to want to look at and touch the men. At last Mak was able to make himself heard.

"All right, calm down. Back off before you scare the children."

A semblance of order was soon restored. Mak led the procession to where Amy and her helpers had set out a hearty meal for them. Soon each of the True Folk men was being served by at least two women. Krog especially looked blissfully content with Klia on one side of him and Kinna on the other, but all of the other men seemed almost as happy.

King Norgan turned away from the barricade in disgust, calling the decan to his side.

"Who among your men is the fastest runner?"

"That skinny one over there, Gorath, your Majesty."

"Does he know his way around in the woods at all?"

"More than most, I guess. He's been on a couple of overnight marches in the forest, and that's more than any of the others here have done." He called the soldier over. "Your Majesty, this is Soldier Gorath."

"Soldier, how would you like a fast promotion?"

"Y yes, your Majesty." The man stood at rigid attention, but his eyes flicked nervously around as though he really wanted was to be far away from that spot.

"Then this is what you are to do, Decan Gorath..."

The next morning as soon as it was light, Amy led a group of women up the trail. They numbered about seventyfive, well armed and equipped. Their job was to see that the overnight camping places were well stocked with food and firewood. The next groups to follow would have the children and older women along.

"We'll see you on the other side," Amy called back as they started up the trail.

They were barely out of sight when a clamor broke out on the far side of the camp. Jewel started to run that direction, but stopped as a guard dashed up to her.

"What's wrong, Jorda?"

"The prisoners are gone! They've escaped!"

Mak and Lyssa followed as Jewel ran to where a squad of women clustered around the gate to the stockade.

"We brought them their morning meal, and they were gone!" the squad leader reported. "They must have climbed over the wall as soon as it got dark. None of the sentries on duty saw them go."

"Why wasn't a closer watch kept on them?" Mak demanded.

"My fault, I'm afraid," Jewel answered. "I was going to post extra guards, but nobody else thought that they'd dare to brave the forest after dark."

"What's this about Norgan escaping?" Riggan hurried over to see what was causing all the commotion. "I didn't think he had it in him."

"I'm beginning to think that we have all been underestimating our little King." Jewel's soft voice expressed reluctant admiration. "Our plan to free the True Folk must have seemed a more fearsome thing than anything he might run into out in the woods."

"Right or wrong, he's gone now," Mak interrupted bluntly. "So what are we going to do about it?"

"I'd say to just let him go, but he knows where our camp is and which way we are going." Jewel figured times and distances in her head. "We brought him here to cause confusion, and we succeeded in that, but if he makes good time back to the city his soldiers could still attack us here before we've all crossed over the pass to the west. I don't think they'll follow us very far into the mountains, but they would try to capture any True Folk women they caught up with."

"I think that Kim and I can head them off before they make it back to the city," Mak stated. "We'd better get started right away, though."

"Hadn't you better take a squad along to guard them on the way back?" asked Jewel. "Catching the prisoners may be easier than holding on to them afterward."

"No, a squad of women would only slow me down, and if I let them follow me at their own speed, I'd just lose them. My best bet is to delay and confuse Norgan and his men, slow them down enough so they can't get back with more soldiers in time to do us any harm."

At Mak's shrill whistle, Kim broke free of a tumble of small children who were climbing all over him, petting him and pulling his ears and tail. Nose to the ground, he soon sniffed out the trail. Once he knew which way they'd gone, Mak was able to spot their traces himself. He could see by the trampled grass and broken branches that the escapees had pushed on as fast as they could in the darkness. Then the trail became straighter and less well marked. He thought that perhaps they hadn't stayed together in one group. It looked as though one man might be travelling faster than the others.