by B. T. Narro
Swenn’s lookalike grabbed the scout by his hair and said something. The scout spit in his face. Swenn’s lookalike jerked a knife out of its holder. Driven by what looked to be fury, he plunged it into the scout’s chest five times without pause, then tossed his body to the ground and kicked it twice before Marteph’s men pulled him away.
My gods. This was Swenn, his actions making it clear even though I still couldn’t see him well enough to identify his facial features. He’d come here after being expelled from the castle.
He wanted to be king, he’d told me. “But I’ll settle for being the master of coin.”
When had Swenn settled for anything? That had been a lie. He was working with Marteph’s men the whole time, I presumed. That meant my enemies would know everything he knew. They would know how many men we had, how many archers, mages, swordsman…how many pyforial mages. They know about me. That’s why those I fought weren’t surprised at my use of the energy.
Would they refuse to march until they found me, knowing I would reveal their direction otherwise? The terrislaks already are moving west. If the enemy waits, it’ll give our army time to fight off the creatures.
But Marteph’s men didn’t appear ready to give up on me. Hundreds, possibly thousands, of them scattered out from the trees. I’m safe here, I reminded myself. Don’t move.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Lightning flashed. The mountains rumbled from the thunder’s power. Rain followed, coming down hard as if to tease anyone who might’ve thought it had stopped for good.
I huddled against my knees atop the mountain, the birdcage beneath my legs. They were searching for me. I could feel it like a game of seek from my childhood. I’d always had trouble keeping myself from peering out from my hiding spot, and even though I hadn’t played for ten years, this desire hadn’t left me. But I was certain everyone with seescopes were searching the mountains and the trees around them. A look would get me nothing but caught.
Instead, I watched the sky with a hand over my brow to keep the rain out of my eyes. They needed a pyforial mage to reach me, and he would come from above if at all.
As the day dragged on, my legs and back ached and the storm worsened. But time was on my side. As slow as it passed, it did pass. Hours and hours I sat there with nothing but my own worries and the miserable weather to distract me. I didn’t know which was worse between the two.
Finally I felt I’d waited long enough. I needed to make sure the army hadn’t moved. A quick look showed me they were still there. The sight was just what I imagined—countless people peering out from their camp with seescopes. Fearful I could be seen, I decided to look down only once an hour.
Evening came. So they’ll spend another night here. Hopefully this will be the last. Still, I checked on them. My tension was relieved when I noticed those who’d left returning.
I’d barely moved the entire day. Under the cover of night, I stood and stretched, rubbing out the soreness in my legs and back. They have to leave tomorrow, I reassured myself. They have to.
Unable to sleep, I took Shara’s advice and thought of pleasant things. It was really only one thing, actually: floating down there, finding Swenn’s tent, and killing him. He’d wake up and see me just long enough to realize he was going to die before I drove my blade into his chest. The fantasy repeated as I shivered in and out of sleep.
In the early morning, it became clear they were gathering to move as they tested their weapons, put out fires, and packed away their tents. They seemed to have given up looking for me and the other scouts, for no one used a seescope.
There were two ways out, north and south. If they went north, then Glaine was the target—Shara, the castle, and the city. Everyone there would be in danger, yet the poorer people in the villages would be in an even worse situation with no one to defend them from the terrislaks. If Marteph’s men went south, however, nearly our entire army could stand against them and the terrislaks in a battle unlike any other in Sumar.
South was a better choice for us, but which was a more strategic move for them? It seemed to me they would lose no matter the target. Glaine would be the more difficult of the two, however, as it was protected by a wall. Hopefully this meant they’d choose south.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. They started north, endless streams of men and some women flowing out from the trees. I muttered a curse as I uncovered the birdcage. Then I prepared my scroll, ink, and quill, protecting everything as best I could from the rain with my blanket stretched between the rocks.
I couldn’t let our enemies get too far before warning King Quince, for a large portion of our army waited many miles south of here. They wouldn’t know to head for Glaine until reached by pigeon. Surely they would be late to the battle, and later still the longer I hesitated. But this could be a ruse. As soon as I let the pigeon out of its cage, they could turn back and go south instead.
I put back my ink, my quill, and my small parchment. I re-covered the birdcage and rose to my feet, stretching out my back. I would follow them.
Three miles, I told myself. If they’re still marching north by then, I’ll release the bird.
A pigeon just like mine flew over my head, close enough for me to see a parchment case around one of its legs. So there was at least one other scout alive and he didn’t think to wait before telling our king of the enemy’s direction. For everyone’s sake, I hoped the enemy army didn’t turn around. Even a wise king like Quince would be baffled by two conflicting messages.
It felt like it took an entire hour just for the last of them to emerge from the trees. They had one horse for every ten men, the beasts usually dragging a cart and bearing what I assumed to be commanders based on the steel armor flashing as the wind rippled their cloaks.
I couldn’t follow safely without letting them out of sight, so I stayed behind, moving from branch to branch high in the trees, only rarely catching a glimpse of those in back.
It was easy to keep track of ten thousand people. If I lost them completely, I simply could lift myself high into the air and spot them again.
I found myself becoming too fatigued to stay with them, though, even after taking breaks. I’d gone about two miles from my mountain and wasn’t sure I’d make it one more.
But I wasn’t about to release the pigeon just yet.
I had a short rest on one branch that wasn’t terribly painful against my sore tailbone and ate about half the food left in my bag. There wasn’t much afterward, maybe a day’s worth, but I needed energy now more than I assumed I would in the near future. I followed the food with a few gulps from my water skin, then set off through the air at twice the speed.
I nearly revealed myself when I came to a branch only to realize I wasn’t behind them anymore; I was in front. They’d turned around, now heading south. I moved east and kept to the high branches of a tree where I could see some of them between the many layers of forest between us.
No doubt the turnaround was to fool any scouts watching them. But would they turn once more? For all I knew, they could even turn east and take on Antilith. Maybe it was their target from the start. Only time would give me my answer, so I waited.
By evening, I’d had it. They’d gone back through their vacated camp and continued south for about four miles. I couldn’t convince myself to wait any longer. Our men in Antilith already could be too late to the battle after going the wrong way for half a day.
But what to write? My message would reach Quince nearly eight hours after the first one. He didn’t just need to be informed, he needed to be convinced. But my parchment was about the size of my outstretched hand yet half the height. I didn’t exactly have room to be poetic.
“They were going north but turned south. The villages in Rhalon are their target.” I signed my name into the last bit of space. As I secured it to the pigeon and let the bird go, I hoped Quince would trust it was me and not some trick. A smart man would wonder at least.
I had two choices now. I could follow the
promise I’d made to Shara and obey my king by returning to Glaine, or I could go against both of them to do what I knew was right.
Sorry, Shara.
I hurried eastward.
I arrived in Antilith by the following afternoon. I asked the first person I saw if King Quince’s army was still here.
“They left this morning,” he told me.
“Which way did they go?”
“North.”
“Damn.” I didn’t mean to say it aloud.
“Why?”
“Thank you, I must be leaving.”
There was too much I needed to do to take time to answer him. And I have to fairith merchants before buying anything! I had a feeling I would be upsetting more than one person before I left the city.
First, food. I ran to the bakery and was disappointed to find three people inside besides the owner. At least they were talking about the war instead of paying attention to me.
“May I please purchase two bread rolls and five handfuls of dried crackers?” I asked in a hurry.
“You must be traveling.” The owner glanced over my shoulder. “Look at this handsome young man. He’s traveling during war times.”
Everyone had a banal line for me, expressed with false excitement.
“How brave he must be.”
“Certainly so.”
“And handsome indeed.”
I looked behind me to find their eyes waiting for my own compliments back to them. I don’t have time for this.
“I’m with King Quince’s army. Ten thousand enemies and hundreds of terrislaks are moving toward the center of Rhalon right this moment. I have to get there first or thousands of Northerners will die. I don’t have time to fairith. How much, sir?”
Their eyes bounced around to each other. It was hot within the bakery because of the oven, causing me to sweat and adding to my frustration.
“Quite rude, you are,” a rich woman snapped, her wrists covered with silver bracelets while a gold necklace hung at her chest.
The rest muttered agreements.
I didn’t care if I was rude so long as I was out of there quickly. “How much?” I asked the baker again.
“You have nothing else to say?” he questioned.
My hands flew into the air as a sardonic tone came out. “Your store is lovely. All of you are lovely. Everything’s lovely! I couldn’t possibly have stepped into a better bakery with finer people than this one!”
Scoffs followed. “My gods, he’s insulting us,” the rich woman said.
“Was I not clear that people’s lives are at stake?” I took out my money pouch. “Please hurry.”
The baker grimaced as he reached for my bread. “I’ll be sending a letter to the king about this.”
I didn’t care. “How much do I owe you?”
I couldn’t wait to be out of Antilith and on my way to the villages. Unfortunately, there were three more places I needed to visit. I knew how I felt after eating only bread for days and there was a good chance I would be fighting, making the butcher next on my list.
I had nearly an identical experience there as I did with the baker, offending more wealthy people, the butcher claiming the king would hear about my behavior and I would be punished.
The cool rain felt good on my face for the first time since the storm had begun. It also helped keep the streets relatively empty. Though I did notice cold stares from the people I passed. I wondered how long it would take before the entire city knew of the rude young man of King Quince’s army.
Two more to go. Blacksmith next, horse last. I was making great time. The thought came that I might go north instead to catch up to the ten thousand marching back to protect Glaine.
But after some quick calculations, I realized they would be within a day of Glaine by the time I reached them, and then I would be two days farther from the villages. I didn’t know exactly when the terrislaks or Marteph’s men would get there, but two days seemed too long.
As I eyed the blacksmith—a burly man with a blackened shirt and face—I thought that surely he wouldn’t mind me being brazen. But he turned out to be more annoyed than the rest of them when I offered no compliments to his craftsmanship or his prices. He seemed to be on the verge of requesting a duel by the time I got out of there with the two short swords I wanted.
I already had my dagger, but I doubted it was long enough to kill a terrislak with a stab to the chest. I’d practiced with swords in the armory. I could drive one through flesh with just about the same force as a dagger.
Everyone I passed by had something to say by their expression. I crossed through alleys whenever possible, and soon I noticed someone on the roof following me. I spun around. Tyree jumped behind a chimney. He continued to follow me as I turned back around.
I ignored him and wondered instead how much I’d be charged for a good horse. Everyone else had forced me—the rude young man—to pay nearly double. Of course they didn’t mention this aloud, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew that, even in Antilith, bread couldn’t be seven pits for a roll.
The horse merchant seemed to be more concerned that an uncultured teenager like myself might not take care of the horse properly. I took a moment to explain that his animal would be in caring hands.
He never became fond of the idea of me riding the horse into battle, but he finally agreed to sell when I convinced him that if I left immediately there was a good chance I would avoid battle completely by evacuating the villagers.
A small crowd had formed when I came back to the main street. People were swarming a pair of guards and pointing at me. It was definitely time to go.
I started through the nearest alley when a child’s voice called out, “Wait!”
I turned and watched as Tyree hung down from the roof of a house, then let himself fall. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he was running to me. “Is it true that the villages in the center of Rhalon will be attacked?”
“Yes. I have to go.”
“Wait.” He grabbed my leg. This child, my gods. “What about Maywair?”
“If it’s one of the villages in the center of Rhalon, it’s likely to be destroyed.”
“Can you go to Maywair and get Lord Crall’s slaves out before the attack?”
That was oddly specific. I looked back to find that the crowd had migrated, now outside my alley. They seemed to be giving the reluctant guards an earful.
“Did you tell anyone what I can do?” I asked, wondering if this was the reason the guards didn’t want to approach or if it was because I was part of the king’s army.
“No one. What about Maywair?”
“I’m not sure I can get there in time,” I replied. “I have to see which villages are protected by soldiers, if any. I have to see where the terrislaks are by the time I get there. They might already have struck.” I shook my leg out of his grasp. “I must be leaving.”
“Then take me with you.” He stepped forward, grabbing my foot this time.
“No.” I was about to kick him off me, showing him a warning look.
“Please! Brijit will be killed if I don’t do something.”
Gods, my damn conscience! Who was this person? Probably a child like Tyree. The guards still hadn’t moved, though the crowd around them had gotten loud enough for me to hear their complaints about my indignity.
“Let go of me and I might let you come.”
He hesitantly took his hands off my shoe. I jumped off the horse and lifted his shirt high enough to expose his belt. He had no weapons.
“I don’t like daggers,” he said, sounding sincere.
I checked his pockets next.
“I have six ruffs and fourteen pits,” he said as I felt the coins. “Four ruffs are in my left shoe.” His little brow creased. “Are you going to take my coins?”
“No.” I checked his shirt and pants for any secret pockets where he might conceal a weapon. I didn’t expect to find anything. From what I’d seen, Tyree certainly didn’t want to hurt people. He would ne
ver kill me for my money.
I was right and found nothing but a skin of water. I didn’t have time for any more consideration. I got on my saddle and pulled him up behind me.
“You’re going to explain who Brijit is while we ride, and if you lie to me even once about anything, I’m taking you off this saddle. I don’t care where we are or how hungry you look.”
“I understand, Neeko. You are the kindest man in Sumar to do this for me, truly you are!”
“Don’t do that horse piss with me.”
He fell silent for a moment of consideration. “Fine.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
I warned Tyree how dangerous it would be as we rode out of Antilith, giving him his last chance. “I’m not turning back once I’m out there,” I said. “I’ll only stop so you can get off.”
“I don’t care.”
Lightning struck ahead, behind the hills in our way as if marking my destination. “Then I will begin asking my questions now,” I said. “You will tell the truth or get off.” This was the boy who’d lied, stolen, and fooled Shara in the past. He’d better give me only right answers if he wanted to be trusted now.
“I will tell the truth,” he promised.
“Is Tyree your real name?”
“No.”
“What is it?”
His grip on my coat tightened. “I don’t want to tell you.”
“If you want to come with me, you’ll answer my questions.”
He thought for a long while.
“What’s your name?” I repeated. “Answer me.”
“Rao.”
“And what’s your last name?”
He fell silent for a moment. “I don’t want you to know, and at least I’m being truthful.”
“Don’t think cleverness will get you out of answering.”
“Will you swear not to use my name against me in any way?”
“I won’t swear to that, but I will promise that if you cooperate and don’t try to steal or harm me, then I’ll show you the same respect.”
