back? No, not as they did
today. I mean, do they mount raids? Do they mass their
warriors on the path to all-out war?'
She looked uncomfortable. 'Overseer, there are two . . .
well, levels, to this.'
'Levels. What does that mean?'
'Official and . . . unofficial. It is a matter of perception.'
'Explain.'
'The belief of the common folk, as promulgated through
imperial agents, is that the Awl have allied themselves with
the Ak'ryn to the south, as well as the D'rhasilhani and the
two kingdoms of Bolkando and Saphinand – in short, all
the territories bordering the empire – creating a belligerent,
warmongering and potentially overwhelming force – the
Horde of the Bolkando Conspiracy – that threatens the
entire eastern territories of the Lether Empire. It is only a
matter of time before that horde is fully assembled, whereupon
it will march. Accordingly, every attack launched by
the Letherii military serves to diminish the numbers the
Awl can contribute, and furthermore, the loss of valuable
livestock in turn weakens the savages. Famine may well
manage what swords alone cannot – the entire collapse of
the Awl.'
'I see. And the unofficial version?'
She glanced across at him. 'There is no conspiracy,
Overseer. No alliance. The truth is, the Awl continue to
fight among themselves – their grazing land is shrinking,
after all. And they despise the Ak'ryn and the D'rhasilhani,
and have probably never met anyone from Bolkando or
Saphinand.' She hesitated, then said, 'We did clash with a
mercenary company of some sort, two months past – the
disastrous battle that spurred your appointment, I suspect.
They numbered perhaps seven hundred, and after a half-dozen
skirmishes I led a force of six thousand Letherii in
pursuit. Overseer, we lost almost three thousand soldiers in
that final battle. If not for our mages . . .' She shook her
head. 'And we still have no idea who they were.'
Brohl studied the woman. He had known nothing about
any such clash. The reason for his appointment? Perhaps.
'The official version you spoke of earlier – the lie – justifies
the slaughter of the Awl, in the eyes of the commonry. All
of which well serves the Factor's desire to make himself yet
richer. I see. Tell me, Atri-Preda, why does Letur Anict
need all that gold? What does he do with it?'
The woman shrugged. 'Gold is power.'
'Power over whom?'
'Anyone, and everyone.'
'Excepting the Tiste Edur, who are indifferent to the
Letherii idea of wealth.'
She smiled. 'Are you, Overseer? Still?'
'What do you mean?'
'There are Hiroth in Drene – yes, you have met them.
Each claims kinship with the Emperor, and upon that claim
they have commandeered the finest estates and land. They
have hundreds of Indebted as slaves. Soon, perhaps, there
will be Tiste Edur among the membership of the Liberty
Consign.'
Brohl Handar frowned. On a distant ridge stood three
Awl dogs, two drays and one smaller cattle dog, watching as
the herds were driven through the destroyed encampment
– the livestock bawling in the stench of spilled blood and
wastes. He studied the three silhouettes on the ridge.
Where would they go now, he wondered. 'I have seen
enough.' He tugged his horse round, too tight on the reins,
and the beast's head snapped up and it snorted, backing as
it turned. Brohl struggled to keep his balance.
If the Atri-Preda was amused she was wise enough not to
show it.
In the sky overhead, the first carrion birds had appeared.
The South Jasp River, one of the four tributaries of Lether
River leading down from the Bluerose Mountains, was
flanked on its south bank by a raised road that, a short
distance ahead, began its long climb to the mountain pass,
beyond which lay the ancient kingdom of Bluerose, now
subject to the Letherii Empire. The South Jasp ran fast
here, the momentum of its savage descent from the mountains
not yet slowed by the vast plain it now found itself
crossing. The icy water pounded over huge boulders left
behind by long-extinct