Belly of the Beast Warren Thomas (e novels for free .txt) 📖

frown. So after working their way deeper into the underbrush, they made a cold camp and waited for nightfall, bedding down to get what sleep they could. Tane was so excited that he knew he’d never fall asleep, but lay down anyway. Soon, he was oblivious to the world.

Chapter 66

            Nizar sighed with relief at the sight before them. Jessy stiffened in the saddle, but kept her thoughts to herself. She had already argued against entering the “enemy” camp. But Nizar was determined, as much for the comfort and relief from the biting cold it promised as for the opportunity it afforded him in capturing Tane and his friends.

            “Trust me,” Nizar whispered as a trio of mercenaries rode toward them.

            He was still dressed as a priest of Dakar, while she wore the black and gray livery of a loyal mercenary. He saw little suspicion in the faces of the approaching men.

            “Declare yourselves!” the lead mercenary shouted, hand on hilt.

            “I am Brother Nizar al-Sayyid, and this is my bodyguard, Jessy,” he said. He drew a pass signal in the air, then spoke a short prayer that had Dakar mentally confirm his identity. The veil hid his grin, knowing that Jessy was blissfully unaware of the prayer that saved them from being seized. He would be unable to explain to her how a priest of Ashtar could call upon Dakar. “Though our path is different than your own, we desire shelter for the night.”

            Satisfied, the mercenary let them pass without further questions. Jessy’s eyes grew large after they passed the mercenaries.

            “That was too easy,” she whispered. “It’s a trap.”

            “No, my child, it is not,” Nizar said. She seemed to find comfort when he assumed that calm, priestly demeanor with her. “Ashtar is with us, and I have a trick or two myself. The sign I drew in the air is their pass signal. We are safe enough. Ashtar is watching over us.”

            “How often do they change the signal?”

            “I don’t know,” he said, giving her a suspicious look. Since Dakar confirmed identities, they had no need to change their pass sign. It hadn’t even occurred to him that there would even be such a need with a regular army. “But Ashtar is watching over us. If the pass sign is changed, She will inform me.”

            His confident words eased her worries some, but she was still wary as she looked around the encampment. Nizar turned to study the lay of the camp, amused by her concerns. She accepted him, and that was enough for him.

            The encampment wasn’t the largest he had seen since coming to Dakar’s service, but it appeared to be the best organized. Whoever the priest in command of this host was, he would bear some close scrutiny in the future. And if High Priest Mogens visited, the priest would be in grave danger. Gods forbid that such a talent in organization come to challenge Mogens in the future.

            Nizar hoped they managed to kill each other, saving him the need to do so in the future.

            The only mistake Nizar could fault the commander with was a poor choice of campsites. They stopped for the night in a vast fire-cleared area, along the northside of a line of low hills. If their enemies sent warhawk riders on a long range reconnaissance patrol this way, then they would be easily found and counted.

            Spotting a small clump of scorched trees near the edge of the clearing, he pointed and said, “Wait for me over there.”

            “Where are you going?” she asked, suddenly alarmed.

            “I’m pretending to be a priest of Dakar, remember? I must report in or they will become suspicious,” he said. “And since you are so nervous, I believe it best if I go alone. I shouldn’t be long, and might even be able to talk them into providing us with a tent for the night.”

            “But what if someone approaches me? What if someone asks me questions?” she said. “I don’t know what to say, or how to act.”

            “Act arrogant, and belligerent,” he said. “My experience with mercenaries shows that they are all full of themselves, and many think the world is out to get them.”

            “I’ll try.”

            “Good. Have faith, my child,” he said, and parted company with her.

            Once Jessy was lost in the crowd, he stopped a mercenary and got directions to the High Priest’s pavilion. Normally that would be easy to find in such an encampment, but from his location Nizar could see three pavilions. He learned from the mercenary that at least five hosts had been assembled here, each with its own commander and pavilion. Each individual priest also had a small tent, usually captured squad tents. There appeared to be hundreds of the smaller tents, each set up in the middle of that priest’s own command.

            As he rode, Nizar felt himself relax. It was difficult maintaining his disguise as a priest of Ashtar disguised as a priest of Dakar with Jessy. Fortunately, she was full of youthful acceptance of other people at face value. In a few more years she would likely be too cynical to accept him at his word without firm proof. Indeed, Jessy hadn’t even demanded proof that Ashtar was Ashtar. Dakar was prepared to prove Himself to be Ashtar, but she accepted Him in His disguise as the Arisen Goddess of War and Adventure without a second thought.

            If only my childhood had allowed me to grow up so trusting and innocent, he lamented. But then, I wouldn’t be on the verge of unlimited power and wealth, either.

            Glancing up, Nizar judged the time near sunset. The thick gray cloud cover still obscured the sun. It seemed a good omen. He had feared they wouldn’t make it, and have to spend another miserable night camped in the forest.

            The encampment was roughly halfway between the village and Treversax – two days hard ride. More