We watched the new mercenary units march into Stonje. There
were
more than 400 of them - too many for us to attack in earnest, but Notomol wanted us to welcome them properly to our war-torn province.
By this time, we knew all of the best spots for ambushes, or for sniping at a long column of men, and then disappearing once again into the forest. We only killed or wounded 13 of them. Not so many, perhaps - but we did it without taking a single loss on our side.
In fact, the mercenaries rarely saw us at all.
One hundred of them split away from the main group, to join Captain Dabrel's sadly diminished garrison. We wondered if he would be superseded in command.
- "I hope not." said Dubek. "I'd love another crack at that idiot."
Almost 200 of the mercenaries made for Dienik's steading. Were they planning on rebuilding it? The Izumyrians kept occupying the place, which was no better than a ruin after Nelime and Orsho's first attack. We'd ambushed them there several times since, as had Vidrik. When would they learn?
The rest of the mercenary force, perhaps 120 in number, headed directly for the Ban's steading, which was already overcrowded, and full of sick men.
- "Pray they catch whatever it is." said Nelime. She was certainly not alone in that sentiment.
***
We had over-hunted the lands around the Deadman's Bog. That was the first reason why Notomol shifted our operations back to the area around Dienik's steading. Food was scarce there, too - but we could extend our hunting into the hills and woods to the west.
It was completely new territory to me; almost all of us depended on old Yadha to get us started. He would point us in the right direction, give us a few words of advice ... and off we would go.
Adrastas actually composed a short song about Snakehand, mainly about how indispensable the old forester was. 'A vanishing breed', the guslar called him, renowned for his knowledge of the land, his acquaintance with half of the people in Stonje - and his tracking and hunting skills.
It was a good song, but Adrastas had missed something important: Yadha had been in battle with us. He'd risked his life as often as any of us. True, Snakehand had done most of his fighting before the guslars had arrived to join our band, but this was an omission that we couldn't allow to stand. Senderra, Cinna and I went and told Adrastas what he'd left out.
I have to give the guslar credit; the next time he sang that song, he added a stanza about Yadha's skills with a bow, his courage and his endurance. That was more like it. I suspect that Yadha had a pretty good idea where the changes to the song had come from, but he merely looked our way and gave us a long, slow wink.
The new hunting grounds were a challenge for us - for me, anyway. I came home empty-handed more than once. There weren't as many of us hunting, either; Notomol had decided to separate the hunters from the archers. We had a number of people who could wield a bow, but lacked the foresters' skills.
Marmos and Olari were two of that type. Notomol wanted them with him, to harass the mercenary garrison of Dienik's steading. My new hunting partner was my old hunting partner: Inita.
- "I hope you don't mind." she said.
- "I'm very pleased." I told her. That was only truth: she was becoming a better archer all the time. She was a quick learner, and had a wealth of common sense. Inita was also easier to talk to than some of my other 'partners'.
- "Are you sure?"
- "'Course I'm sure. I've always told you the truth, Inita."
- "Yes. You have." she agreed.
We worked well together. When she didn't know something, Inita wasn't afraid to ask. She eagerly soaked up any knowledge that I chose to share, and she didn't laugh or mock me when I admitted that I didn't always know the answers.
She and I spent many days together in the woods, and many nights, too, as we ranged farther and farther from the band's camp, west of Dienik's steading.
One evening, upon our return to camp, I followed Inita back to the fire she shared with Senderra, Evane, and Dusca.
- "Are you sure?" asked Inita.
- "Of course." I said. "The last time I stayed away too long, I heard about it from Senderra."
But Notomol's sister wasn't there. Evane looked decidedly unhappy. Big Dusca was seated right beside her, with her arm around the smaller woman's shoulder.
Something was wrong. Even I could tell.
- "What's happened?" I asked.
Inita immediately turned me around and led me away in the opposite direction.
- "Do you really not know?" she asked.
- "Know what?"
Inita sighed. "I didn't want to be the one to tell you this, Kolasovets. But Senderra hasn't been spending much time with us, after dark."
- "Why not?" My mind seemed to be functioning extremely slowly, as though it was clogged with ice. Inita was trying to tell me something, but I couldn't quite make sense of it.
- "She's been ... with someone else."
Now I understood. Surprisingly, it felt like being stabbed. There was the sharp shock, and the strange numbness as my mind struggled to absorb what had happened. The pain only came afterwards.
"I'm sorry, Kolasovets. I thought ... we all thought that you knew."
- "
Who?
" I said. By some miracle, my voice didn't crack.
- "Eiven."
Cloudy-Eye. A noted warrior. A
famous
warrior. Handsome, where Dubek was scarred and ugly. Not too old, like Orsho, but at least a decade older than her. Senderra would see Eiven as mature, and experienced. I was a boy. An immature adolescent with big ears. What had I been thinking?
The unrealistic dreams of youth may be mere fantasies, but that doesn't mean that their roots don't go deep. It felt as though my heart had been torn from my chest. I was still numb, though. That gave me a moment to think of others.
- "Why is Evane so upset?"
Inita could only shake her head. "Are you serious? She's been in love with Senderra since they were little girls."
- "But I thought ..."
- "
You thought what
?"
- "Senderra said ... that Evane was in love with Notomol."
Inita snorted. "That's possible. Probable, even. We're all in love with Notomol, in a way - aren't we?"
I turned and looked at Inita as if she'd just grown a second head.
"You've been with him the longest, Kolasovets. Ask yourself: what are you doing in Stonje? Shouldn't you be in Yeseriya? And you heard what your friend Motekin wrote. He felt it - enough to fill pages in his journal. I can admit to it, too. It doesn't mean that I want to be his woman. It's something else ... but you know that better than I do."
I heard every word she said. Only later did I suspect that she was trying to distract me from thoughts of Senderra and Eiven. But that didn't mean that what she'd said wasn't true. In fact, I was to spend quite a bit of time mulling it all over.
For now, though, I didn't want Inita to see me cry.
- "Thank you." I said. "For telling me. Excuse me."
She let me go. What more could she have said? It would have been nice to have Dusca put her arm around me, and offer comfort. Or Inita. But then I decided that I didn't want to cry. I wanted to get beastly drunk.
Yes, I wanted Senderra to be happy. I hoped that Eiven would be good for her, just as Nelime had proven to be for Notomol. I just would have preferred that she'd found someone else. Someone like ... me. But that was a foolish dream.
There were a few members of our band who always seemed to have some kind of liquor. Dubek was one of those. I found him easily enough, just away from one of the main campfires. I always remember him just as I found him then - sitting on the ground, with his back to a tree.
His eyes were slightly glassy, but he was no less fearsome.
I sat down next to him, and extended my hand. "Have enough to share?" I asked.
Dubek merely grunted, and passed over a wineskin. I put it to my lips and took a long swig.
I might as well have tried to swallow a long knife. It burned like fire, and nearly choked the life out of me. Dubek chuckled as I gagged and coughed.
- "You'll get the hang of it, 'Vets." he said. Another century or two of hard drinking, and you'll have almost caught up to me."
- "
What is that?
" I got out.
- "My own private blend." said Dubek. "Suchen (a drink based on fermented honey), grain spirits, and ale. Kills every disease I've ever heard of. I hope."
- "It's awful."
- "I agree that it takes some getting used to. But then ... you came to me, 'Vets. Which means that there's some reason you stopped by. You have something on your mind."
I could have sworn that he was already drunk, but Dubek still had his wits about him. "Oh!" he said. "you just found out something you would have preferred not to know. Ouch."
- "What are you talking about?"
Dubek passed me his wineskin again. Against my better judgement, I took another swallow. It burned just as badly as the first.
- "She's entitled to find some comfort while she can. We could all die tomorrow, you know. Me ...I'm too ugly. You, friend 'Vets ... you're too young. But look on the bright side: I can't get any prettier; but you can certainly get older."
I was struggling to understand how everyone knew what Senderra was up to, except for me. Was I so oblivious?
- "I don't know if that's a 'bright' side, Dubek."
- "Well ... how about this, then? Forget 'em all. Have another drink."
The alcohol didn't help - especially the next day. Nor did I remember much of the drunken wisdom Dubek shared with me. Strangely enough, though, I did feel just a little better. Sharing the pain didn't make it go away, but it didn't hurt, either.
***
The second reason that Notomol moved us back to the hills near Dienik's steading was because Nelime had suggested it. Notomol wanted to test the mercenaries. She suggested that it would be easier there, since the walls weren't completely rebuilt, yet. It left them vulnerable, exposed to our attacks at all times - day
and
night.
Nelime also knew that the local people had mostly fled, so if our enemies wanted trees felled, they were going to have to do it themselves. The mercenaries weren't very keen on hard labour, in the first place - and we had some small successes ambushing their work parties.
The mercenary commander had some sense: he sent out large armed parties to guard his labourers, and also tried to hide large supporting forces in to trap us if we attacked. But we had a dozen pairs of eyes watching the steading at all times. They couldn't sneak a single man out of there without us knowing about it.
Notomol was extremely patient; he was merely probing, poking the enemy to see how they would respond. Every day, we killed or wounded at least one or two mercenaries.
Meanwhile, we learned a great deal. First of all, it seemed that the mercenary captains weren't going to help each other. There was no cooperation between the three steadings, no coordinated movement such as Arnger had organized against us.
Then we heard tidings that changed our plans.
