Part 11 (1/2)

For once Haranides did not notice the sarcasm. This had to be what he sought. By Mitra, it had to be. He could barely restrain himself from galloping ahead of his troop, but he forced himself to keep the march to a walk. The horses must be conserved if there was a pursuit close at hand, and he prayed there would be.

The men strung out to the east waited once they had pa.s.sed on the signal, each man falling in behind the column as it reached him. Those beyond the man who first flashed his sighting would be riding west to join them. If this was a false alarm, Haranides thought ....

Then they topped another hill, and before them was a small knot of his men. As he rode closer another rider rejoined from the east. Haranides finally allowed himself to kick his mount into a gallop. One of the soldiers rode forward, touching his forehead respectfully.

”Sir, it looks to have been a camp, but there's....”

Haranides waved him to silence. He could see what was unusual about this hollow between two hills. Black-winged vultures, their bald heads glistening red from their feeding, stood on the ground warily watching the quartet of jackals that had driven them from their feast.

”Wait here until I signal,” Haranides commanded, and walked his horse down into the hollow: He counted the ash piles of ten burnt-out fires.

The jackals backed away from the mounted man, snarling, then s.n.a.t.c.hed bones still bearing shreds of scarlet flesh and loped away. The vultures s.h.i.+fted their beady-eyed gaze from the jackals to Haranides. A half-eaten skull showed the thing on the ground had once been a man, but it could never have been proven by the scattered bones, cracked by the jackals' powerful jaws. Haranides looked up as Aheranates galloped down the hill.

”Mitra! What's that?”

”Proof there were bandits here, lieutenant. None else would leave a dead man for the scavengers.”

”I'll bring the men down to search for-”

”You'll dismount ten men,” Haranides said patiently, ”and bring them down.” He could afford to be patient, now. He was sure of it. ”No need to grind what little we might find under the horses' hooves. And lieutenant? Tell off two men to bury that. See to it yourself.”

Aheranates had been avoiding looking at the b.l.o.o.d.y bones. Now his face abruptly turned green. ”Me? But-”

”Now, lieutenant. The Red Hawk, and your glory, are getting further away all the time.”

The lieutenant stared open-mouthed, then swallowed and jerked his horse around. Haranides did not watch him go. The captain dismounted and slowly led his horse through the site of the camp. Around the remains of the fires was scruffed ground where men had slept. Perhaps fifty, he estimated. Well away from the fires were holes from the pegs and poles of a large tent. Four other holes, though, s.p.a.ced in a large square, interested him more.

A short, bowlegged cavalryman trotted up and touched his sloping forehead. ”Begging your pardon, sir, but the lieutenant said I was to tell you he found where they had their horses picketed.” His voice became flatly noncommittal. ”The lieutenant says to tell you there was maybe a hundred horses, sir.”

Haranides looked to where two men were digging a hole in the hillside for the remains of the body. Aheranates apparently had decided he should search rather than oversee their work as ordered. ”You've been twenty years and more in the cavalry, Resaro,” the captain said. ”How many horses would you say were on that picket line? If the lieutenant hadn't said a hundred, of course,” he added when the man hesitated.

”Not to contradict the lieutenant, sir, but I'd say fifty-three. They didn't clear away the dung, and they kept the horses apart enough to keep the piles separate. Some would be sumpter animals, of course, sir.”

”Very good, Resaro. Go back to the lieutenant and tell him I want....”

He stopped at the strained look on Resaro's face. ”Is there something else you want to tell me?”

The stumpy man s.h.i.+fted awkwardly. ”Well, sir, the lieutenant said we was mistaken, but Caresus and me, we found the way they went when they left here. They brushed their tracks some, but not enough. They went east, and a little north.”

”You're sure of that?” Haranides said sharply.

”Yes, sir.”

The captain nodded slowly. Toward the Kezankian Mountains, but not toward the caravan route through the mountains to Sultanapur. ”Tell the lieutenant I want to see him, Resaro.” The cavalryman touched his forehead and backed away. Haranides climbed the eastern hill to stare toward the Kenzankian Mountains, out of view beyond the horizon.

When Aheranates joined him, the lieutenant was carrying a stone unguent jar. ”Found this down where the tent was,” he said. ”Someone had his leman along, seems.”

Haranides took the jar. Empty, it still held the flowery fragrance of the perfume of Ophir. He tossed it back to Aheranates. ”More like than not, your first souvenir of the Red Hawk.”

The lieutenant gaped. ”But how can you be certain this was the trull's camp? It could as easily be a... a caravan, wandered somewhat from the route. The man could have been left for some errand and been slain by wild animals. He could even have had no connection with those who camped here at all. He could have come after, and-”