Free Faces of Deception by Troy Denning Page B

halfway across when the third patrol emerged from the willows on the other side. The company had only two dozen warriors, but riding beside the leader was a small man in a cloak and sable hat. His face was paler and more fine-boned than those of his Mar companions, and in the crook of his arm he carried an elaborately carved staff decorated with mystic symbols.
    “Now look what your greed has brought on us, Bharat,” hissed Rishi. “A wu-jen!”
    “Wu-jen?” rumbled Yago.
    “From Shou Lung,” Bharat explained.
    “They are sorcerers of great skill. The equals of Ysdar himself, it is said,” Rishi said, speaking so softly that Atreus could barely hear him. “But I have dealt with their kind before. Cover yourselves and have no fear.”
    Atreus and Yago slipped down between the carpet rolls and pulled the dust shroud over their heads, then listened to the wagon rumble the rest of the way across the bridge. At the far end Rishi pulled far enough ahead so that he was not blocking the way, then stopped.
    “A pleasant afternoon to you and your men, sir,” said Rishi. “What news of Ysdar’s devil?”
    “Many rumors, but no news,” came the leader’s unusually frank reply. The hollow clop of hooves on wood sounded behind the wagon as the patrol started across the bridge. “For all the havoc he is spreading, he has proven a most elusive devil.”
    “Then you will certainly be pleased to hear that he has fled,” said Rishi. “Already this morning I have spoken to two different patrols who chased the devil deep into the Yehimals and were forced to turn back only because of enormous avalanches.”
    The leader’s good-natured laugh was cut short by the angry Wu-jen. “In Shou Lung, we find little humor in failure. Naraka, it is your people’s barbaric love of lying that causes us to return without success. Had we not spent fifteen days chasing wild Mar rumors, I would have this devil hanging outside the Paradise Mahal already.”
    “That is most certainly true, honored Wu-jen.” Rishi’s tone, at once sardonic and patronizing, managed to convey how sorry he felt that Naraka and his men had to endure such a pretentious Wu-jen. “I will not detain you further from your terribly important duties.”
    Rishi slapped the reins, and the yaks started forward.
    “Did I say you are free to go, driver?” asked the Wu-jen. “Wait one moment”
    “Oh, begging the Wu-jen’s pardon!”
    Rishi took his time halting the yaks, and the wagon traveled more than a dozen paces before coming to a stop “It was my impression that he had no interest in the words of a lying Mar,” Rishi explained.
    “I find it wiser to pay more interest to what Mar do not say than to what they do,” retorted the Wu-jen. Atreus heard two ponies pass back along his side of the cart, but the rest of the patrol seemed to be continuing across the bridge. “Where do you come from?”
    “Last night, we camped—”
    “Not you, driver,” said the Wu-jen. “Let your master tell me.”
    The two Mar were silent. For a moment, Atreus feared they were waiting for him to speak. Then the cart rocked as Bharat turned sideways.
    “M-me?”
    “Is there another master on the cart?” retorted the Wu-jen.
    Atreus clutched his dagger. Not for the first time, he wished that he had grabbed his sword
    instead of his gold when he jumped off the elephant.
    When Bharat did not answer the Wu-jen, Rishi said, “I hope the Wu-jen will forgive my boldness, but he is terribly mistaken. I am the master here.”
    “Truly?” asked the Wu-jen. “That is most surprising. I would have thought a blind master needs a seeing driver. Tell me, Blind Helper, why does a seeing master need you?”
    “I am not a helper.” Bharat’s voice was indignant. “We are both bahrana carpet sellers. We are equals.”
    “Ah, then why does the driver call himself master?”
    “Because he is a liar and a thief who thinks he can cheat a blind man out of his due,” answered Bharat. “Tell