The Deepcombers

Chapter Forty One

"They're not slavers?" Saeya looked to Valari.

"The children are for the shafeigor," Val said. She blinked the full horror to her blond friend who grasped her meaning at once. No words were required between these two.

"The shafeigor?" Lon asked.

"Those creeps in the orange cloaks." Mel said, "that's what they're called. They do memory-Varget."

"How's it different." Lon asked.

"The strongest of them can sometimes project a glyph, but mostly they just relive stressful memories." the rogue said.

"Huh?"

"Their own recollections of cuts and bruises they've suffered. Like how Zed described." Melcart explained.

Silence.

"I don't like it," Saeya said. "We're so badly outnumbered." She looked at Jarl to invite his professional opinion.

"Unhealthy odds," the veteran guard captain agreed. Lon could see the big cat had already worked out many possible lines of attack. His pointy ears twitched, and he elaborated, "I'm not familiar with your... Fighting strengths, but if you can do what you did..."

"We should wait till Orchee tries for the cows..." Saeya interrupted. The old lionfeigor shook his head no.

"I disagree Miss Saeya." Jarl said, "Calbians are skilled but they can't win that battle with just twenty swords. Not even with their peculiar abilities. Not against that," Jarl pointed at the wagon train and the wildkin's vast military resources laid out below.

"And these bastards. They'll take those kids away up into the mountain caves and..." Melcart said.

"No. They won't." Valari pointed at a circular white dais barely visible underwater on the far side of the stream. "They went straight for the children." She held everyone's attention, "They're up to something. The orange cloaks. Tonight. Under a summer moon. They're making something that needs feigorin sprog on a mountain creek. The water is important."

"Feigorin sprog? Is this some Vargwa bunkum?" Melcart asked

"Sacrifices?" Lon asked.

Valari nodded, more answer than the question deserved but not the whole truth.

"So why did they take the cows?" Lon asked.

"They'll miss their own harvest." Jarl replied. "And maybe to set a trap for Calbians."

"But oh, blazes there are so many..." Saeya bit her bottom lip, and she leaned toward the prudent decision to delay. "There are too many."

"If we don't try and save them right now, then those kids..." Melcart didn't finish.

"But if we fail," Saeya said, "one of us will pay the price. Tragedy always strikes when you're feeling tough."

"Saeya. Tragedy has struck," Lon said. "We can stop it."

"I agree. If there was ever a time for taking risks." Valari said.

"So. They'll wait till the moon's up?" Saeya asked her brunette friend who nodded.

"Nay lass," Jarl said, "if what you say is true, then they'll all crowd around for the ceremony at sunset. It'll be even harder then." Jarl pointed at the banquet tables and the wagons in the creek below, "Now is a surprise. They think they're safe.."

"This is doable right?" Melcart asked the veteran campaigner

"There's a way," Jarl nodded. "Somebody stampedes the cows. That's the way." He cleared the pine needles under his arm and drew a line in the soil which everyone presumed was the creek below. All four masters huddled around the drawing. "We are here. The cows are here. We know that Orchee's force is downriver..." Jarl pointed down to the creek. "The wilduns are garrisoning a hillock, probably this same ridge we're sitting on now, but a quarter mile downriver. See how they hustle in that direction? They've laid a trap over there like-as-not."