Whisper of Venom

He scrutinized the shadows under the branches and decided no one was there now either. Something made a tiny rustling sound in the underbrush, but his hunter’s instincts told him it was a small animal, a vole or stoat perhaps, not a threat.

He unbuckled his safety straps, swung himself out of the saddle, and led Eider into the cover the coppice afforded. “Wait for me here,” he said. “Keep out of sight.”

Eider grunted. No wizard had altered her in the womb, and she didn’t possess a quasi-human intelligence like Jet. Still, Gaedy

He patted her head, then headed for the far side of the oaks. By the time he reached it, he was crouching low and creeping.

He was reasonably sure the enemy force was directing most of its vigilance inward, toward the town that was their objective. But they surely had at least a few sentries looking out at the countryside too. So he all but crawled across the open ground between the coppice and the tents and fires on the near side of the half-erected earthworks and half-assembled siege towers and trebuchets. He paused often to study the ground ahead.

He supposed a charm of invisibility could have made the little excursion easier. But relying on such an enchantment could also mean disaster. There were wards that could strip away invisibility. Bareris Anskuld had run into one at the Dread Ring in Lapendrar. And since Gaedy

Of course, were Jhesrhi with him, the task might be easier too. They might not need to sneak into the enemy camp at all, because she could command the wind to carry the sounds of voices to her from far away. He wondered what she was doing back at Tchazzar’s court. Dancing? He gri

An owl hooted, and Selune’s silvery light glinted on the iron blade of a plow. The implement looked undamaged and accordingly valuable by peasant standards. Perhaps some unlucky farmer had dropped it as he fled the advance of Threskel’s army.

Five paces beyond the plow blade, Gaedy

Could Gaedy

He eased an arrow from his quiver, laid it on his bow, then stood, drew, loosed, and dropped back down all in a heartbeat.

The shaft punched into the kobold’s crown. The reptile flopped onto his back without making a sound.

So far, so good. Gaedy

As he passed the body, he looked for a badge he could appropriate. He didn’t see anything, and didn’t want to linger by the body to search. But fortunately, even though Threskel was a poor realm-or a poor province in rebellion, if you took the traditional Chessentan point of view-Alasklerbanbastos had somehow found the coin to hire a fair number of mercenaries from overseas. As a result, his army consisted of a diverse lot of warriors who were mostly strangers to one another. If Tymora smiled, Gaedy

He kept low until he was near the perimeter of the camp, near enough that a fellow might have wandered that far out simply to piss in peace. He peered, searching for anyone who might be looking right in his direction, then straightened up. Pretending to close the fastenings of his breeches, he sauntered on toward the tents and crackling fires.

As he’d hoped, he didn’t attract any special notice even though most of the human soldiers lay snoring, either in their tents or wrapped in blankets under the open sky. It was mainly nocturnal creatures, swaggering pig-faced orcs and other goblinkin, who were awake.

He glanced around and spotted eight orcs sitting around one of the smaller fires. They all wore tabards marked with the eye and crossbones emblem of the Red Spears, a mercenary company made up exclusively of their kind. More to the point, they were passing a jug around, with another, still corked, waiting for when the first one ran dry. Gaedy

“Well met,” he said. “What would a fellow sellsword have to do to get a pull from that jug?”

The orcs all turned to look at him. The biggest, who wore a necklace of severed ears and had apparently gouged out one of his own eyes in devotion to the war god Gruumsh, sneered. “Grow tusks,” he said.

His companions laughed.

“And the stones to go with them,” said another orc.

The Red Spears laughed again.

“Too bad,” said Gaedy

Kammarth was a drug compounded of a rare woodland root and subterranean fungi. It quickened the reflexes and imparted a feeling of boundless energy. Combined with alcohol and natural orc belligerence, it all but guaranteed a brawl, but Gaedy

“Let’s see,” said the one-eyed orc.

Gaedy

The Red Spear caught it, untied the thong securing the mouth, stuck in a finger, and brought it out with sand-colored powder on the tip. He sucked it clean, then shuddered.

“Not bad,” he said thickly. “All right, human, sit down if you’ve a mind to.”

Two of the other orcs shifted apart. As Gaedy

When it came around the circle, Gaedy

As it was, he didn’t like the taste or the jolt that started his heart pounding and sweat seeping from his brow. But he tried to look as if he did.

“So,” he said, “another stinking siege.”

One of the orcs grunted.

“I like the loot when you finally get inside,” Gaedy

One-Eye gri

Oraxes crouched in the turret peeking out at the sentry prowling up and down the wall walk. He and his companions had crowded into their hiding place before sunset, and he was hungry, cold, and generally uncomfortable. But mostly, though he was doing his best to conceal it, he was nervous.

The Threskelans were sending something in the dark. Something that could make its way to the top of Soolabax’s walls, find lone guards, and rip them apart.

It was only a minor problem in the overall context of the siege. But, in what Oraxes believed to be a rare instance of accord, Aoth and Lord Hasos both wanted it stopped. To that end, they’d decided to set a trap. The bait was one of the ablest combatants in the Brotherhood of the Griffon, who was nonetheless counting on Oraxes and the other men in the turret to rush to his aid.

Oraxes suspected killing the killer, who-or whatever it was, was likely to prove considerably more difficult than using his magic for petty theft to survive in Luthcheq. But it was apt to be more interesting too.