“Could Dubaku call back his spirit? Maybe he saw who killed him?”
Rastrian turned only his head as he walked slightly ahead of me and to one side. “Maybe. I'll ask him.”
#
The crossbowmen had not been happy to see me dump one of their own in the center of their camp, the place where they gathered around two long fires to cook and eat and drink and talk and bind themselves together into a group.
Here. I think this is yours, I felt like saying. It was what I was doing, in fact, but it would have been a travesty.
Rastrian raised his hand high for silence as the hum of voices grew, and raised his voice. “We found him by the mages' wagons. We don't know anything yet. Where is Dubaku?”
He was behind us.
“Here.”
I had put the man down with some care, his compatriots gathering round, naming him, asking what the hell had happened to him. I'd moved his limbs gently into a less grotesque position. Then I had stepped back, letting them have him. And had nearly jumped out of my skin when Dubaku spoke at my elbow.
“Can you call his spirit? Ask him what happened?”
“I can. It will take time. I will need to be alone. Bring him to my tent.”
I watched the scene play out. The men picking him up, carrying him after Dubaku. Then I left, telling Rastrian I would be in my tent.
I didn't need to tell him our dinner was canceled.
#
Sapphire was waiting for me. I'd half expected it.
“Why?”
He had been sitting on my bed in the shadows thrown from the lamp on the table. He got up and faced me, his cold blue eyes like ice. He didn't speak.
“I could have you killed just on my word.”
He didn't respond in any way I could detect. His eyes were willing to sacrifice his own life, coldly and with calculation, as though it were nothing. And he was my father's servant. My father was a patron and no man's fool. I had no love for him and he none for me. Sapphire knew secrets that my father did not trust me with. He was here on my father's business and would tell me nothing. Part of me was outraged, and part of me understood entirely
“I am under instructions to discuss my mission with no one.”
His expression gave me nothing. He didn't move. Didn't blink. Just watched me and waited. I thought about it. He was willing to die for this. Or kill for it? Kill me, I mean. I already knew he would kill. So. It must be important.
“Tell me what you feel you can.”
I didn't think he was going to answer. Then he did. “He was an Alendi agent.”
I didn't say anything either. Sapphire was a spy. And an assassin. Sent by my father to track down and eliminate just this agent, or others? How did he know Preth was an Alendi spy? I decided to let it go for this moment. Let him go and think some more. Part of me knew I was doing this out of loyalty to my father and was surprised. I nodded acceptance of what he had said and he at once slipped his hand inside his shirt and came out with a letter which he passed to me. I opened it at once. It was from my father.
Trust Sapphire. He is on my business.
“Do you know the contents of this letter?”
“I was there when it was written.”
“Are there others?”
He did not answer. Eyes cold. Expression blank.
I nodded acceptance and stepped aside. He left without a word or a backward glance.
#
There was no way I could sleep.
“Where were you?”
Meran affected not to know what I meant.
“When Sapphire dropped by for a visit.”
“Watching him.” He pointed to the floor of the tent. “Saw him come this way when I came back from arranging dinner. He slipped in that way and I stayed there and watched.
“Until he left?”
“Until he left.”
“I never asked what tribe you were, Meran. No sense doing it now, is there?”
He grinned. “Thank you for not insulting my mind. No, no sense at all. But for what it's worth I was Alendi.”
“Was?”
“I like civilization. Warmed floors, hot baths regularly, raised bread, books, beds, roofs that never leak, not having to...”
I held up my hand, “Enough, I get the idea.”
“I would rather be a free man but...”
“You know the law. Freedman, your children can be free.”
“I would still serve you if I were free.”
“I'd have to pay you.”
He grinned wickedly. “Owe me!”
“And have my ex-slave be my creditor? I'd never live it down.”
I was joking but I could see that partly he had not been and that he was disappointed. Dammit, everyone wants something and now here I was hoping the spirit of a murdered man was not going to point the finger at me and concerned that my slave was unhappy that I wouldn't free him.
“How come you didn't see the murder?”
“I had to see about dinner.” He winked and dropped his voice. “But don't worry, I saw another earlier.”
“What?!”
“Him again. Sapphire. A slave. I would guess that the slave was the contact or go between for someone else. The slave spoke to the crossbowman and that one left. Sapphire killed the slave, then split. I lost him. He moves sneaky.”
I swore. There didn't seem anything else to say on the subject so I left it.
“Meran.”
He turned at the doorway. He had some dirty clothes in a bag. I was going to say that if I freed him my reputation would suffer, but that seemed insufficient. My reputation was in tatters and ultimately meant nothing to me and he knew it, or guessed confidently enough to be said to know. “You're free.”
He froze in place. It was a long time before I realized he was in fact on the verge of tears. “Don't joke.”
“I'll draw up the paper now,” I moved to the desk. “It's normal that you become part of my clientèle In fact you will be my first client.”
“An ex-slave that you freed yourself? The stuff mighty legends are made of!”
Then we both laughed. And I'm not sure, but I think we both shed a tear. It really was very funny.
#
Before any hint of dawn, Dubaku was my first visitor of the day. Meran was half way up with a knife in his hand when Dubaku bid him be calm and announced himself.
“I wish to speak with your master.”
“I'm awake.” I had heard Meran move and awoken at once. I was becoming a light sleeper, rarely more than a moment from wakefulness.
Meran made way for him and Dubaku stepped fully into the tent. The residue of a fire burned outside, giving just enough light that I could discern both men as shadows against a paler background.
“I thought you would like to know as soon as I did. Preth did not see who killed him. He saw you but was already dying and you were far away. Then he was confused. He is still confused. His perceptions have changed. The world is not what it was or how he saw it. It will be many years before he can choose to remember and interpret what he saw immediately after he died. And then he will be focusing perhaps on things that are not important to us.”
“You lost me, but he can tell us nothing?”
“I did not lose you at all, Sumto. He can tell us many things, but none we are equipped to understand.”
I sighed. “And his compatriots are aware of this?”
“They are all awake. They all know that you did nothing.”
I winced at his turn of phrase but assumed that it was just that. Then I wondered how adept he had become at interpreting the confusion of spirits. Did he guess that I had known the killer from what the spirit of Preth had said?
“The usual monies will be paid to his widow, heirs or assigns. I have written the papers and need only pass them to the commander.” I hoped our private agreement was not yet in force in Tulian's mind or I would be liable for the money. Then I winced again at my parsimony. What is a man's life worth? T
o him it is worth the world. To me, five hundred coins. To Sapphire, nothing.
“Of course.” I watched his shadow move against the pale wall of the tent, the flap opened, he was a brief silhouette and then gone.
“What time is it?”
“I don't know.”
I sighed. Should I rise or try to sleep? The eternal quandary.
#
The dawn rose pale in the east and gently lit the white walls of the town behind us. I took pleasure in the sight as I walked back from the commander's tent (Tulip), the routine of the camp going on around me almost without notice.
I walked through Rastrian's area, passed a few words with him, letting him know the commander had approved payment and asking for the man's will. I was a little ashamed that I could not remember the man's name; Prit, Preth. Something. He was dead and I was alive and it was a perfect morning, cool and crisp and the light was stunning. I was breathing the air deep and loving life and I didn't know why. I felt good. That was all.
When I reached the center of our area all was ready for the march and there was nothing for me to do but mount and wait a while.
Meran wore his hair in the style of a freedman and it seemed like he always had.
Kerral and the others all raised eyebrows. I ignored them. Would it occur to them that he was my first client? I prayed it would not. If there is any pity in the world, let them please not think of it. Someone would. No doubt of it. But like all decisions made and actions taken I would have to live with the consequences. The hell with it. I wasn't going to let anything spoil my mood.
Life was good.
The day's march was utterly uneventful. I chafed at the bit. Wanting more to do. More to think about. I felt like everything had been resolved. We would do war, win, go home. What could be simpler?
Of course, there was always one fly in the ointment. Larner Harrat and Lentro rode up to my position and bearded me in my den.
“A man was killed at our tents last night, Sumto. What are you doing about it?”
“Burying him,” I quipped cheerfully.
“Sumto,” his voice held a hint of warning.
“Commander.” I snapped. “There is nothing to be done. The shaman interrogated his spirit and the dead man knew nothing.”
“We could perhaps have learned something. A scout could have followed the tracks! I am told you did nothing!”
There was that word again. Was it going to haunt me? “A scout following tracks in a camp of seven thousand men? And what, might I ask, could a battle mage do?”
Larner cleared his throat deliberately. “Commander. No offense intended but you are somewhat more ignorant in matters sorcerous than I. I assure you, had we been summoned at once there would have been at least some information gained.”
Then I'm damn glad I didn't summon you. “I accept that. And it was remiss of me. That I have the right to command your services had escaped me.”
“Now, here, Sum... Commander. That is overstating the case and you know it.”
I shrugged. “I am in command of the unit you are attached to. Shall we bring the matter to the attention of the commander and have it clarified.”
“I think not, and you are evading the subject.”
“I have given as much apology as I will, and assure you it will not happen again.”
“I wonder if you are in control. If our area of the camp is safe.”
I hadn't given the matter a second's thought, we were inside a fort, patrolled, but now I knew that there were threats within. “My men patrol the area,” I said, hoping it was true. Where had Luk and Gobin been last night while I passed time with Kerral and Pakat? I had not seen them at their tent but I had not been looking. I had reason to trust them, their experience, knowledge, competence. I'd check discreetly as soon as I could. “And if you are concerned, you are, as you have reminded me, battle mages. Can you do nothing to enhance our security?”
Larner snorted, half derision, half humor. “We will take such measures as seem discreet and appropriate.”
“Do that, please. But keep me informed.”
He glowered for a moment, but acquiesced. He or one of his would have to come and report to me. It was a mistake I had been making and now it was corrected. I was in command. They would obey my orders. I didn't think for a second that this was the end of it, but it was a start.
When they left I settled back to enjoy the rest of the ride. And planning. Always planning.
#
The region adjacent to the road was far more densely populated than the previous provinces. The fertility of the terrain saw to that. As a consequence the road was busier, or would be if we were not using it. Common people did not get in the way of an army and they could hear us coming. We passed them in groups; wagons, flocks, on foot and on horseback. They waited at the side of the road and watched us pass. No one seemed unhappy to see us but no one seemed overjoyed either. We were a friendly force, no doubt of that, but where there is a friendly force there is an enemy force and the people suffer. Actually that is a lie. A friendly force will consume two tenths of the total produce of their own people in the area of conflict. They knew it even if the nobility chose to ignore the fact. We paid, yes, but you can't buy what is no longer there. Imagine two men with their surplus stocks gone, each with some new money in his pocket. Neither can buy from the other. It isn't quite that bad but the lie is a useful one. That is why it is advantageous to take enemy supplies. The rule of thumb is an enemy wagon of supplies is worth twenty of your own. It hurts them that badly.
Of course most people don't think these things through to that extent. The people we passed were more glum than happy because they knew that war is a bad thing for them. The young were excited, of course. An army on the march is a spectacle, an event to be enjoyed. So there were mixed feelings on the faces of the people we passed. They knew there was war in the north and hoped it stayed there. In the north it was a topic of gossip and speculation and excitement. On their own fields it would be a nightmare. A hell. Maybe the end. Some knew that and feared it. Can't say I blame them. Of course, there are some who see profit in war, and there is money to be made. Our baggage train increased in size as merchants tagged on the back. They were kept at a distance. When we camped they would be interrogated by a commander and accepted into the baggage train depending on what they had and who they were.
At one point I passed a large group of men and horses a good way off the road and was surprised to see our banner there, and others that I did not immediately recognize. I glimpsed Tulian, and a couple of other commanders. Then Orthand himself. Interested, I pulled off the road and watched for a bit. I started picking out banners and trying to identify them from memory. I just never put the time into studying them, so if I recognized one it would be luck. Finally I figured it out, more by the intricacy of one of the largest banner than anything else. Here was the King of Wherrel, a client and put on his throne by a patron - but still a king. He was in company of his most notable barons, plus some key local citizens. Come to meet with the army and discus transit, supply and other issues. Doubtless there would also be an agreement of aid, local forces to assist us in the coming conflict, as the north was rising, according to all rumor and intelligence. Satisfied, I turned away and tacked on to the end of my troop, then moved forward to join Rastrian. We seemed to have settled back into a friendly relationship after our clash. My innocence in the death of his man had helped, I think.
“When do you think they will join us, and how many?”
“Depends on how serious they take the threat. If the Ensibi fall completely it isn't far through Geduri territory to the north of Wherrel. I guess that we will join them, in fact. Somewhere near the northern border. If it happens.”
“Then you will fall to squabbling over command.”
I laughed, lightly. “Probably.” It was true. The patrons did a great deal of maneuvering and in-fighting to gain command of any force in the field. Orthand, Tulian, the King of Wherrel's patro
n, or chosen general should he not take the field himself, all would want Command. Tul didn't control enough men or have enough status to be a contender and had already aligned with Orthand. But the other two would fight tooth and nail for overall command. There had been cases where two and three patrons had split their forces and acted independently rather than share command. Sometimes with disastrous results. A divided army rarely prevails. It had happened that such armies refused to acknowledge each other's existence, messages and intelligence, even stark warnings being ignored through the assumption that they were misinformation. Slaughters had resulted, yet we are still the same. Despite our faults and flaws we are still a dominant power. None greater in all the world. The stones that feed the magic of battle mages and healers have a part in that, agreed. But even without them I believe we would have done well, internal competition and rivalry breeds both results and competitive men. Even I was prone to it; pride and competition, the desire to shine, and I am the least like my fellows of any of us that I know.
“Maybe the king has already sent an army ahead of us to attack the Alendi? Maybe the war is already over?”
I was looking at him and the shock must have been obvious because he trailed off and fell silent, puzzled. He really didn't understand us at all. The Ensibi were Orthand's problem. Why would anyone put his own power base, money, efforts, forces, anything on the line at all? Least of all first!
Okay, if the Alendi or a general rising in the north looked like it might be a threat to the city, the city would act. Some might be acting now, just in case, making preparations, but little more. Latandin Keshil Herrap was the patron of the client Kingdom of Wherrel, and his concern would be his clients, nothing more. If it looked like the only way to safeguard his own property was to strike north he might consider allowing Orthand to join his army and help. That's the way he would look at it. Orthand would be thinking in terms of not having to share the profit of war if he could help it but if he needed some more troops then allowing Latandin to supply them would not be out of the question. I tried to explain this to Rastrian, a foreign captain of mercenaries, but he just didn't understand it.
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