How Piro Met the Bandits
He Had Almost Been Expecting
I
t was red dawn and there was a cold wind from the south when Piro, Kytraan, and Lar began the next stage of their journey toward Dzur Mountain. For some time, they traveled in silence; Lar because he was attempting to accustom himself to being laconic, the others because they were deep in their own thoughts, especially of their destination. This particularly occupied the attention of Piro, for reasons that will require no explanation if the reader will but for a moment put himself into our young Tiassa’s position: To be journeying toward Dzur Mountain, toward the Enchantress of whom so much was said and so little known, accompanied as it were by all of the vague fears and oft-told stories concerning her power, temperament, and capabilities, would have been enough to have kept busy the imagination of a thousand Piros.
The path required but little thought: the direction was well known and Lar had, at one time, dwelt in the area and knew many of the landmarks. “And,” said Kytraan, who had made the journey not long before, “soon enough we will see Dzur Mountain in the distance, and then it will be all too easy to continue.” Lar could not repress a shudder as Kytraan said this; a shudder the Dragon and the Tiassa pretended not to see.
In a day or two the the terrain assumed a character of grasslands occasionally dotted with woods, yet there were still roads, or at least paths, that took them, according to Lar, close
enough to the direction they wished to go. As night fell they would find one of the wooded areas, and sleep there in a clearing around a fire they would keep burning all night. After several days, the woods became denser and more frequent, until soon they were traveling through what could only be described as deep forest.
Around this time the Tiassa began to notice that Lar was displaying certain peculiar signs, until, at last, Piro felt called upon to remark on it. “Come, good Lar,” he said, “it seems to me that you have been behaving oddly, this last day or two.”
“How, Lord, oddly?” said the Teckla.
“So it seems. Have you noticed it, Kytraan?”
“Do you know,” said Kytraan, considering, “it nearly seems that I do, although I had not remarked on it until just now.”
“Well then,” said Piro, “the case seems to be proven.”
“And yet, my lord,” said Lar, “I confess I am entirely unable to understand in what manner I have been behaving that is unusual.”
“Well then, I will explain.”
“I am listening.”
“This is it, then. In the first place—”
“Well, in the first place?”
“It seems to me that for the last day or two you have been disturbed and agitated.”
“How, I?”
“Indeed, yes.”
“I admit it may be possible.”
“And, in the second place—”
“There is more?”
“Yes. In the second place, you have been frequently looking over your shoulder.”
“Have I been doing this?”
“Yes. So much so that I have noticed.”
“Well. It may be true.”
“Come then, have a you a reason for this behavior?”
“Nearly.”
“Well?”
“In the first place, Your Lordship may have noticed that I have a nervous disposition.”
“I will not deny that. And then?”
“In addition, I have a certain keenness of hearing and sharpness of sight that comes from having lived for so long in the wild.”
“Very well.”
“And not only that, but I have been cursed with a certain vividness of imagination, which inconveniences me from time to time.”
“Lar, you must admit that, as an explanation, these reasons you give are not entirely satisfactory.”
“Then I will explain further.”
“I will be glad if you will do so.”
“Here it is, then: The idea has been growing on me for the last few days that—”
“Yes?”
“Well, that we are being watched.”
“How, watched?”
“And even followed.”
“Impossible!” said Kytraan.
“How impossible?” said Piro.
“Well, then, unfortunate,” amended the Dragon.
“I will permit unfortunate,” said Piro. “But, Lar, are you certain?”
“Not the least in the world, my lord. Had I been certain, I would certainly have said something.”
“Ah, I see. Well, can you imagine who might be watching or following us?”
“I am sorry to say that I can. I have, as I have had the honor to mention, a very active imagination.”
“Well, and who do you imagine it might be?”
“Well, we are now traveling in the very district where I once lived as a bandit.”
“How,” said Kytraan. “You, a bandit?”
“Or, rather, a cook for bandits.”
“So it might be your very band?”
“Another like it, my lord. It is unlikely to be mine, as they all met with an incident.”
“Do you mean an accident?”
“I beg Your Lordship’s pardon, but there was nothing accidental about it.”
Kytraan looked at Lar with open astonishment. Piro, for his
part, said, “Well, what then is to be done? It seems we must at least remain alert. And yet, if we are being followed by brigands, why have they not attacked us?”
Lar said, “That, my lord, is exactly what I have been wondering.”
“Perhaps,” said Kytraan, “they have some deep plan.”
“Or perhaps,” said Piro, “it is not bandits, but someone else.”
“Or perhaps I have merely imagined that we are being followed. You perceive, my lords, that I haven’t seen or heard anything, precisely, it is more that I have had a sense of it, and think I hear things, and almost see things. And yet—”
“Well?” said Piro. “And yet?”
“I am very nearly convinced.”
Piro and Kytraan looked at each other, each asking without words if the other gave credence to the Teckla’s impressions. Piro finally shrugged and said, “We should be fools if we did not exercise caution, yet, until we know for certain if we are being followed, and if so by whom, it is difficult to know what precise action is called for.”
“In that case,” said Kytraan, “we ought to attempt to discover the answers.”
“That is well taken,” said Piro. “How ought we to go about it?”
“In the simplest possible way.”
“And that is?”
“We will go forward a little more, and then step off the trail, hide, and see who comes along.”
“I agree with this plan,” said Piro.
“Then let us act on it at once. I see a grove of cedars ahead which, by the formation of their growth, should suit our purpose admirably.”
The decision was no sooner made than acted upon; the trio rode in among the trees and waited, watching the path, speaking, when they spoke, only in whispers.
And, indeed, they did not have to wait long before there appeared exactly what they had feared: a band of seven men and four women, well mounted, well armed, poorly dressed, with no clear indication as to House. Piro, for his part, felt his breath catch in his throat and his hand involuntarily strayed to
the hilt of his sword. He looked over at Kytraan, who was at that moment looking at him, and it seemed to Piro that the same thought was going through both of their minds at once, this thought being something in the nature of,
We forgot to decide what to do if we discovered our pursuers
. They could hardly ignore the fact that they were outnumbered eleven to two, and yet how could they let the brigands pass without a challenge? Piro knew well the stories of those contests in which his own father along with Kytraan’s father and their friends had happily accepted battle against greater odds than this; could he, therefore, do any less? He hesitated, uncertain, while the eleven riders passed before them, unconcerned, not even looking to the side.
While Piro was considering the matter, Kytraan had been making his own calculations, the results of which were communicated to Piro by the sound of a sword coming free of its scabbard. We must say to the young Tiassa’s credit that, upon hearing this sound, he did not hesitate, but at once drew his own weapon, so it was almost as one that the two horsemen urged their mounts out of concealment, coming out behind the brigands.
The bandits, of course, reacted predictably: they wheeled their horses quickly, drew swords, and held themselves ready, relaxing a little when they saw only two enemies. One who was in the rear (which, the reader ought to understand, meant he had been leading before they turned around), called out, “Look around, there may be more of them.” As he spoke, he rode forward, so that soon it was he who was confronting Piro and Kytraan; a few others, following his orders, studied the surrounding woods. At this point Lar emerged, weaponless, and placed himself behind the Dragon and the Tiassa.
Piro, meanwhile, studied the bandit who stood before him. On horseback, at least, he gave the impression of being rather small, with a narrow face, a noble’s point, and features that suggested the House of the Chreotha, though he wore only brown and grey traveling garb. He held his sword with that relaxed tension that speaks of one who knows its length.
“Well now,” he said. “What is this?”
Piro was saved from the necessity of finding something to say by Kytraan, who managed to have some words ready to
hand. They took this form: “We thought perhaps you were looking for us, and so we came to you.”
The brigand frowned, however, and said, “Looking for you? I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so?” said Kytraan. “That is to say, you were not looking for us?”
“Not to my memory. But I may be deceived on this point. Who are you?”
“My name is Kytraan, of the North Pinewood Hold, and my companion is the Viscount of Adrilankha.”
“Well, I must say I have never before heard those names pronounced, so that I cannot claim to be looking for you. Unless—” and here comprehension appeared to grow in his eyes. “Unless this is your way of saying you wish to join my band, in which case I’m forced to disappoint you by—”
“Join your band?” cried Kytraan. “I hardly think so.”
“That is well, then.”
“But sir,” said Piro, who at last managed to find his voice, “is it not the case that you have been following us?”
“Following you? Well, if so, it is only because it so happened that you have been preceding us.”
Kytraan looked at the brigand, then glanced at Piro, and back. He cleared his throat. “Well, I must confess this conversation is hardly going in the direction I had expected.”
“Things rarely go the way we plan,” said the other, shrugging. “But what would you have? It is clear you intended to fight all of us. If that is still your wish, we can oblige you, although it seems pointless. My name, incidentally, is Wadre.”
Kytraan shook his head, “No, we are not Dzurlords, to fight to no purpose except the fighting.”
Wadre smiled. “Nor are we.”
“I must say,” said Kytraan, with a small bow executed from horseback, “that you seem remarkably amiable for a brigand.”
Wadre shrugged, appearing to take no offense at the label. “If I am amiable to those I intend to rob, why should I not be amiable to someone toward whom I have no such intention?”
Kytraan could find no answer to this question; Piro, for his part, could not help but burst out, “But why do you rob people?”
Wadre shrugged. “Robbing animals would seem unproductive.”
“There is some justice in your observation,” said Kytraan.
“No,” said Piro. “I mean—”
“I know what you mean,” said Wadre. “But, come, what would you have us do instead?”
This question required some thought, and Piro began forthwith to think. Kytraan, meanwhile, said, “But then, if you are robbers, why do you not rob us?”
“Have you anything worth stealing?” said Wadre.
“Well, in fact, no,” said Kytraan, after reflecting.
“Well.”
Piro nodded to indicate that he was satisfied with the answer.
“In that case,” said Wadre, “it only remains for us to wish you a pleasant journey.”
“And to yourselves, well, I hope your ventures are prosperous.”
“You are very kind,” said Wadre, and bowing, he led his band away.
As they were leaving, Kytraan said, “Come, my dear Piro, do you think you may have gone too far?”
“In what way?”