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43

As Eleal Singer began working up a serious sweat in her highly dramatized version of The Coming of the Liberator, D'ward nodded to Dosh to follow him and slipped away from the little group around the fire. Unnoticed by the intently listening pilgrims, he moved off into the dark. Doing the same was not quite so easy for a man loaded like a turtle with Prat'han's great shield, but Dosh accepted the challenge.

He reached the toe of the rockfall first. D'ward arrived, then turned around to look for his missing follower. Like an unusually silent shadow, Dosh stepped in close behind him and whispered, "Master?"

D'ward jumped rewardingly and then laughed. "You trying to frighten me to death?" In the faint glimmer from the many fires, his face was hardly more than a blur, but he was smiling, and if anyone's smile could glow in the dark, it would be his. "You know this cave?"

"Best lodgings in the Vales, for the price."

"True. So you know the little hollow back there?"

Dosh nodded. "It's called the Fleapit."

"Probably well deserved. I asked Kilpian to get a fire going. Try and keep everyone except friends and shield-bearers away, will you?"

Oh, blazes! The cave was fifty strides wide, and although the main path over the rockfall was well defined, there were other low spots. Dosh had spent days exploring Roaring Cave in his youth, for it was a favorite Tinkerfolk campsite. He knew six or seven passable routes to the Fleapit. Dusk was falling, but with so many fires burning, the cavern would not be truly dark. Intruders could manage the barrier without a torch if they took it slowly.

He sighed. "You always give me the tough ones!"

"I do," D'ward said solemnly. "That's partly because I can rely on you to tackle them better than anyone else. It's also because I know you like getting the tough ones." He grinned again. "Don't you?"

"No!" But then Dosh realized that he did enjoy the unfamiliar sensation of being trusted, which was probably the same thing. "Well, maybe. I suppose I do." He hadn't really known that, but it was true. Not for the first time, he wondered if the Liberator knew him better than he knew himself. "I'll see you're not disturbed, master."

D'ward squeezed his shoulder. "Good man. You never let me down, Dosh." He faded away into the gloom.

Dosh stood for a moment, savoring those final words. Never let him down! How good that felt! And how strange that he should think so—he, Dosh Envoy, who had never before cared for anything except carnal pleasure, the kinkier the better. Some miracles were less obvious than others. . . . Then he heaved Prat'han's shield straight on his shoulders, adjusted the (horribly light) money bag on his belt, and set off to locate some helpers.

He enlisted shield-bearers Tielan and Gastik, two friends, and also three Niolian youngsters he'd picked out earlier as promising recruits. Then he found Tittrag Mason, a new shield-bearer who was big enough to move the whole rockfall single-handed.

He posted them in pairs to cover the most likely paths over the pile. None of them was very happy at the prospect, thinking of reapers.

"Don't worry about them," he said. "A reaper can go by without being seen if he wants to, and in this case he won't want to leave bodies around to raise the alarm, right? The same thing's true of Eltiana cultists or Blood-and-Hammer thugs, or any other assassins the evil sorcerers may send against D'ward. Don't worry about them, because they won't worry about you, and you can't do anything about them anyway. If they do turn up, D'ward will deal with them. Your job is strictly pest control. Be polite and understanding, but firm. If you have any trouble, shout for me. I'll be going up and down the line."

Pest control. Some people just had to speak to the Liberator personally, to explain their problems, the gods' truth, or his mistakes. D'ward dealt with most of those during the day, but that sort could never understand that he might have more important business to attend to, such as sleeping. The worst pests by far were the priests. There were dozens of priests around now, every one of them determined to stamp out his heresy.

Dosh began patrolling back and forth across the toe of the rockfall, keeping both eyes wide open, watching anyone who headed deeper into the cave and also watching his helpers. He was annoyed to discover how easily he could work his way past them without their seeing him. He was a very good sneak, of course, after a lifetime's practice, but others might be just as good.

There was too much cover, too many people in the cave, too little light. Even if he had the fuel to build a chain of fires from one wall to the other, there would still be too many shadows. The job D'ward had given him this time wasn't just tough, it was an eyelash short of impossible.

 

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