Spies in the Snow- Continued

(Florarest 11, 10019 ADW, Early Morning - Outskirts of Everwood, Thelahar)

"Break camp and get the horses ready to move! Leave no trace behind!"

Gelnar kept his voice low, and for once, Renaire obeyed without a word of complaint. Under different circumstances, Gelnar might have enjoyed gloating over him, but he was too stunned to form the words. The morning's incident had unsettled him, and as he loaded his horse his eyes traveled over the valley floor, noting the unusually large tracks that still marred the open ground.

He was accustomed to demons. Being a soldier with the Dominion had brought him far closer to their kind than most men would deem comfortable. He'd fought them, run from them, routed them, and even killed them. Granted, it took numbers to kill even one demon, but he'd quickly learned that the creatures of legend he'd so feared as a boy were, in the end, just flesh and blood. Long years in Mordishant's company had given him more than the average man's stomach for their brutality, and while he would never enjoy observing the creatures closely, he'd grown cold to the mere sight of them, especially at a distance.

But the titan they'd seen this morning was unlike any demon he'd ever encountered. Large and broad-winged, it had breathed menace and moved with the sinster grace of a predator. He tightened the girth on the roan's saddle, recalling the ease with which the demon had flung the magus to the ground. Renaire had practically soiled himself, and even Calamus had lost his usual steadiness, although he'd hid it well.

Gelnar himself had felt a moment of panic, expecting to see the man torn limb from limb. He quivered, remembering. It had taken several minutes for his heart to slow, though he'd felt somewhat cheered when the man had risen again, unharmed.

Could I have imagined it? he thought briefly. Gelnar knew it had only been a small show of power on the demon's part. Judging from its size, the men were little more than a distraction to it, and yet it had let them live. The outcome had surprised him. In all his years, he'd never seen two men face a demon and walk away unscathed.

Shortly afterwards, the outlanders had left the village, and they'd stayed together. That made Gelnar's choices easier. Unconciously, he fingered the rolled leather envelope tucked into his belt. He needed to report to Mordishant, and that meant sending someone. Renaire was hardly reliable, but at least he could be trusted to carry a message. Sending Calamus would be worse. The man was sure to report to her first, and Moridshant might never hear the truth.

Before long, the camp was packed away, and the other men had their horses saddled. Renaire found his voice again, and Gelnar sighed.

Silence never lasted long with him around.

"We're ready," said Renaire, his tone oddly subdued.

"Good. Get on your horse and take this to Mordishant," Gelnar handed him the envelope.

"What's this?"

"Your report. Don't lose it."

Renaire scowled. "I'm perfectly capable of reporting by myself. I don't need a script."

"If you were deaf, dumb, and blind, I might trust you to get it right. But as you are ... just take the message."

Renaire bristled. "Damn you-"

Grabbing Renaire by the front of his cloak, Gelnar pulled him close, hissing every word. "Listen to me, you empty-headed fool! Make sure that letter reaches him! Do you understand?"

"I understand that you're an asshole..."

Gelnar didn't wait to hear the rest. He hauled Renaire bodily toward the roan gelding, making sure to get a few good thumps in on the way.

"Take my horse. He's faster."

Renaire struggled, balking as they approached the roan. The animal pinned its ears flat and snaked its head at them. "Like hell! I'm not riding that flea-bitten piece of dung."

"You'll do as I say!" Gelnar shoved Renaire up into the saddle, avoiding the roan's teeth as he did so, and looped the reins over its head. Without looking at Calamus, he led the animal a short distance down the hill toward the trees. The wind picked up suddenly, and tiny flurries of snow whipped around them. Gelnar shivered and the horse shied.

"When you reach the Deep, make sure that Gable, Cord, and Lesser are aware of everything, but watch them carefully."

"Did you drink something last night without telling me?" Renaire looked baffled.

"Shut up and listen! There's more going on than you know-"

Renaire scoffed, "So what's new?"

Gelnar stared hard at Renaire. "Do you even know why we came here?"

"Because Markovin's poor excuse for a legion can't defend its own territory. Those pathetic jackasses..."

"No, you fool! We were supposed to meet Valis."

"Valis?"

"One of our spies. He's been a part of Althenore's legion for several months now."

"Since when do we need to spy on our own people?"

"Since Althenore's been spying on us."

Renaire's eyes widened, but Gelnar went on without pausing.

"I know you've never met Althenore, Renaire. Pray that you don't. He's charismatic on the surface, but he'll use anyone and anything for his own purposes."

"But we're helping them! Markovin's legion ..."

"Markovin's a pathological killer!" Gelnar roared, then caught himself. "Renaire, I don't have time to explain everything. You've just got to trust me. There's dissent among the Legions. Althenore has turned against us, and Markovin's with him. The others are in disarray. We've been planning a coup, but a few weeks back, Valis sent word of a traitor. Someone close. He insisted on seeing Mordishant in person."

"A coup? Against Althenore? Are you insane?" Renaire looked incredulous.

"Althenore has lost his way. The world he wants to create would never know peace. He has to be stopped before the Dominion collapses."

"How do you know all this? Why have you left the rest of us in the dark?"

"Because it would create chaos. Most of the men don't know what they want, and the rest are too blind to see the truth. It's better to keep things simple. War they can understand. It's in their blood, and it's what many of them signed up for. But peace? Peace is an entirely different game with its own set of rules. It takes more than war to create peace."

Renaire rolled his eyes. "Peace? Gah! Now you sound like the last wench I bedded!"

"I don't give a damn about your sister," Gelnar snapped. "There's a traitor somewhere in the column. If Althenore learns about the Deep, everyone there could be killed within a matter of days."

Renaire gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to retort. He had too many questions. "Why didn't Valis just name the traitor?"

"I'm not sure, but I suspect that he was being followed, and whatever was following him, caught him. This whole thing was a trap from the very beginning, and I think I know who set it."

Renaire paled. "That outlander. Is he some sort of assassin then?"

"I don't believe the magus or his new friend have anything to do with this. They're not the type. Not like her things."

"Her? Things? Gelnar, that creature we saw ..."

"Don't you have eyes?" Gelnar half snarled. "Can't you see what's been going on all this time? In the Deep? Here? Our cohort was separated from the main legion, and that's exactly what she wanted. To get us out of the way, so she could--"

The wind ceased. Gelnar tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. He stared up blankly. Renaire's face seemed to splinter, becoming ringed with white, then gray, and finally black as his vision blurred into darkness. His mind was swimming, conscious only of the pain that yielded a sudden vertigo. The blade wedged between his ribs felt cold, but as it slid free, a wave of molten fire rose up within his chest. Then he was falling...