Ardalia: The Breath of Aoles

Chapter Nine - STENLEN MILEMPAS

"You couldn't do it, could you?" Xuven had ended up joining his nephew, prostrate on the ground. The bow and the thorn were still at his side.

Pelmen shook his head, as if awakening from a nightmare. He made a great effort to get up. The taste of ashes filled his mouth.

"That's entirely to your credit," said Xuven.

"Entirely to my credit? Letting the enemy escape from under my nose? He'll rush off to rally his friends to set an ambush for us."

"I don't think so. The Banished prefer easier prey. They've already lost one of their comrades. It would be surprising if they wanted to take on a krongos, a shaman and an archer again."

Skeptically, Pelmen stared into his uncle's imperturbable gray eyes. "He would have been able to tell us more. If he lied and he's gone to link up with our enemies, it won't be long before he tells them about our curiosity."

"That's improbable. I don't blame you for doubting his word, but think about it. The people orchestrating the disappearances have considerable means at their disposal, enough to offer amberrock to simple Disinheriteds. To be sure, their allies might not have the same means, but I can't see them carrying out a smash-and-grab raid the way these Banished did. No, the people we're looking for are more organized than that."

"They waited until Astar had set before going into action, though."

"The most basic prudence dictated that. But did they even explore the surroundings of the camp? Their impatience, as well as their garments, proves they're at the end of their rope—which our former prisoner confirmed."

Xuven's tone intrigued Pelmen. "So what?" he asked.

"It's an interesting indication, and not just because their poverty distinguishes them from the people we're looking for. Does the name of Tchulen Poindivoire mean anything to you? He's the Indomitable Hunter, the Aguerri to whom you'll report if you succeed in your ambition."

Pelmen was no longer at all convinced that he had what it took to become a hunter, but he kept his objections quiet.

"He's our Protector, the one Selenice Milempas questions at every council meeting with regard to the disappearances of tradesmen. If she's charged us with making enquiries, it's obviously because it's still a problem. What we've just seen confirms, however, that Tchulen Poindivoire is making life hard for the Banished..."

"But he's aiming at the wrong target, you mean?"

"It's doubtless logical it's the most vulnerable bands that suffer the effects of the hunt first."

Xuven scanned the horizon thoughtfully. Then he pointed to the bow at Pelmen's feet. "Pick it up, then. It'll still be useful to you."

"I'm not so sure of that."

"Oh, come on! You did honor to that bow by not squandering the prisoner's life. He's not a threat."

"I didn't spare him because I respected his life."

"Your mind didn't respect his life. You're always in the right when you listen to your heart on such occasions. As you must surely know by now, the awareness of our actions doesn't abandon us once they're accomplished."

Pelmen's shoulders sagged as he mulled over his uncle's words. Then he knelt down, picked up the thorn and replaced it in his quiver. He picked up the bow, without looking at it, and put it over his shoulder.

When they got back to the carts, Fekkar only asked one question: "Did he get away?"

The absence of any reaction on the part of the krongos when Xuven confirmed it surprised Pelmen. "You're not angry?"