by Erin Beaty
As promised, the Ranger squad stopped by the Norsari camp a couple weeks later, and Sage wasn’t surprised to learn Ash Carter had taken charge of them. She sat up late into the night, listening to their descriptions of the land along the southern border, including the Beskan and Yanli Gorges the Kaz River flowed through. Both were narrow with sheer walls, but the Yanli was far more dangerous.
“The sides ain’t just steep.” Corporal Wilder was deep into his wineskin, gesturing grandly with his hands to emphasize his descriptions. “They’re smooth as glass except where it’s broken and jagged. Nothing grows down there. We call it the Demon’s Alley for the black color and the sharp rocks. The stones make good cutting tools, though. We’ve used it as a quarry—at least what we could reach.”
“What could’ve created something like that?” Sage asked in awe.
He shrugged. “Never heard a theory that made much sense, but it’s a deadly place. A few guards rode a boat through it on a dare two years ago, but half of them didn’t make it. Stupid way to die.” The corporal spat into the fire.
Sage looked across the flames to where Alex sat with Ash Carter, watching and listening. There was no jealousy on his face over her speaking with another man, but his eyes had a glint of sadness. Their gazes met, and she issued a mental challenge: Come over here and talk to me if you want.
Alex looked away. A few minutes later he left the circle of firelight with Ash.
“So, Corporal,” she said, keeping one eye on Alex. “Have you seen any Casmuni in the last few weeks?”
Wilder shook his head. “Not a one, but Sergeant Carter has us searching.”
“Did you cross the river?”
“Not yet, the water’s been high and temperamental. We’ve stuck mostly around the area from last year.”
A chill went up her spine. “What happened last year? I thought you said you’d only ever seen Casmuni on the other side of the Kaz River.”
“Around September we found a place where they crossed and camped and scouted about. The thing is”—he shifted to speak to her in a more confidential manner and lowered his voice—“I’m not sure I agree. Our Sergeant Starkey was new at the time—I been out here going on four years. No one listened to me, though, they just followed Sarge.”
Sage could barely breathe with excitement. “Why do you think he’s wrong?” she whispered.
“Well, it seemed a bit large and obvious, like whoever was there wanted the signs to be found. That always makes me suspicious.” Sage nodded in agreement, and he continued. “Second, they had horses. I’ve never seen a Casmuni horse.”
“And you’d think if they came to the river for water, they’d bring them,” she said.
“Right.” Corporal Wilder was getting more excited. “And third, they were there in September. Much later than I’ve ever seen Casmuni appear—they only come in spring and early summer.”
According to the documents Sage had studied, there were two trade routes between Demora and the Casmuni capital city of Osthiza: a circuitous path that went around to the fortress at Vinova and south, and a shortcut through the desert following a network of springs. However, the desert route could only be used a few months of the year, as many of the water sources dried up in the summer. She’d wondered why they didn’t just follow the Kaz River all the way, but after hearing Wilder describe the Yanli Gorge, she understood.
The corporal was right: If the Casmuni were to come here, they’d only do it when the desert could be crossed.
“Anything else?” she asked.
Wilder shrugged. “It looked like they went into the desert, but tracking them was impossible. Wind blows everything away after a day.”
“So if it wasn’t Casmuni, who do you think it was?”
“Who else but the Kimisar?”
That sounded like a rather far-fetched theory, even for someone who had already shown a hatred for the Kimisar. “Here? I’ve never heard of them going beyond Tasmet.”
Wilder’s already-flushed face reddened. “I have a, um, girl in a village up by the Jovan Road. She told me last year a number of ’em come through the south pass last May. They raided a string of farms, and disappeared. The army caught a few, but she said there were dozens.”
The Jovan Pass had been buttoned up by the army around that time. What if those Kimisar had been trapped on this side of the mountains? “Are you thinking that’s where they went? Into Casmun?” she asked.
“That’s my guess.” The corporal took a swig from his wineskin.
Sage glanced over at Alex, who was talking quietly to Ash Carter, far out of earshot. “Have you told your opinion to Sergeant Carter?”
“I doubt he’d listen. Sergeants stick together, in my experience.” Wilder shook his head. “It probably don’t matter anyway. Desert likely swallowed the bastards up.”
Sage only nodded, but she couldn’t help wondering if all the Kimisar had truly left.
28
ALEX STARED AT the group around the fire, where Sage was again deep in conversation with one of the Rangers. They were mostly discussing the local geography when Alex had left, and in true Sage fashion, she was happiest when she was learning something. Her smile never quite reached her eyes, however, which made Alex realize how little Sage had smiled at all in the past few weeks. The one time she’d looked across the flames at him that night, he could almost hear her daring him to say something.
After tracking her down on the first day, he’d worried about her constantly, but she’d obeyed his order and never strayed from the camp, even when he was gone. Whenever the Norsari had returned from a training patrol, Sage peppered them with questions, mostly on flora and fauna they’d seen. Probably she was feeling cooped up, hence her interest in talking with those who’d seen more of the area. He felt a little bad about that, but keeping her here was safer for everyone. Safer for him.
Cass, Gram, and Ash still trusted him, though that would change if they ever realized the horrible truth of what Sage’s presence meant. Keeping his distance from her was agony at times, especially when he could see she was unhappy, but it was bad enough that his friends knew about their relationship. Though Alex had never entered her tent after that first day, he’d spent several minutes of nights past watching her silhouette as she sat up late, writing. When Alex’s first report left for Tennegol, she’d added her own thick packet to the dispatch. A pang had gone through him at the thought that none of it would ever be for him.
“Who are you writing to?” he’d asked. “You realize this mission is a secret, right?”
Sage tossed her head, which she still did despite her lack of hair. “Some of them are progress reports on the prince for Their Majesties. The rest are private letters for Clare, who already knows I’m here.”
“What in the world could you have to discuss in such detail?”
She smirked. “Are you worried they’re about you?”
That was exactly what he was afraid of.
“Read them if you want,” Sage said, waving her hand like it didn’t matter. “I know you’ve never fully trusted me.”
That was a low blow, and Alex’s first instinct had been to leave them alone. An hour later, he realized that she’d rather skillfully manipulated him, and he broke the seal and read her letters without any feelings of guilt. After all, a commander was expected to closely monitor all communications, especially during sensitive missions.
Her writing was witty and entertaining but carefully neutral in describing camp workings and routines, which would give no enemy significant information if it was intercepted. Everything was so benign Alex couldn’t believe there wasn’t some kind of code within. Through the night he read them several times over, forward and backward, but try as he might, he could find no pattern, even in the passages about him. Those rather painfully described her loneliness and confusion at his keeping her at arm’s length.
He remade the seal and gave Sage no sign that he’d read her correspondence. Later an equally thick package arri
ved for her from Clare, and though he had every right to read the letters, he passed them on without comment. When Sage brought another bundle to be sent with the weekly dispatch, he managed to resist opening it for two hours. He craved her voice and her insight and her humor, even if it was tinged with sadness. Most of all, he needed the reassurance that she still loved him.
Another dispatch would go out in two days. He was already looking forward to tomorrow night’s reading.
Outside the circle of firelight, Ash followed his gaze to the gathered soldiers. “How is Sage doing out here in the rough?” he asked quietly, though they were out of earshot of anyone.
“Never complains,” Alex said. “At least not that I’ve heard.”
Ash pushed his black hair out of his eyes. “You say that like you haven’t talked to her.”
“I haven’t.”
His friend sighed. “Alex, I don’t want to get in the middle of this—”
“Then don’t.” Alex tore his eyes away from Sage and focused on the sergeant. “You’re here to report.”
Ash shook his head. “I already told you everything, which was nothing.”
A pit formed in Alex’s stomach. “I thought you went to where the Casmuni had camped.”
“I did. It wasn’t helpful.”
Alex hadn’t expected much after eight months of exposure to the elements. “But they showed you where they found what they did. What are your thoughts?”
“It’s not the place I would’ve picked to set up camp,” said Ash. “Visibility was limited in most directions, and it was a poor place to cross the river, even in August.” The Kaz was currently running high and fast with melting mountain snow. Alex hadn’t ventured across it yet, hoping it would calm in the next couple weeks. “What it did have was a fairly clear path to the Jovan Road.”
“Which must have been their goal.” Alex folded his arms and turned away from the fire to resist looking in its direction.
“Maybe.” Ash shrugged. “I’m going to head upriver tomorrow and see if I can get us a few boats from one of the villages. Could be handy.”
Alex nodded. “Sounds like a good idea. Quick communication and travel, at least in one direction.”
“Exactly.”
Neither spoke for another half minute, during which Alex’s eyes wandered to the fire again. “The new moon is in two days,” he said finally. “The ambassador had aimed to leave by then. It takes about ten days for our dispatches to reach Tennegol. He’ll cross paths with my second and third reports of nothing. It won’t look good.”
The sergeant leaned against a tree trunk, making him appear even shorter. “I’m as frustrated as you. We still have at least three weeks before he gets here, though.”
“Ash?” His friend looked up. “What if there’s nothing to find?”
Ash shook his head. “No one comes in like that for no reason. They’ll be back.”
It felt strange to hope for a foreign invasion to repel, but somehow Alex felt like his career depended on it.
29
SAGE ENTERED THE command tent when bidden, a bundle of letters in hand. Alex looked up from where he sat, writing his report. “It’s getting late,” he said. “I was wondering if you were going to make this dispatch.”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t leave until morning.”
“So it doesn’t.” Alex went back to his work, but not before she noticed the eager gleam in his eye. “You can put them in the satchel with the rest.”
“Thank you.” Sage knelt down and lifted the flap of the leather bag sitting on the ground. There wasn’t much in there. She frowned. This could be problematic. She tucked hers in and stood. “Not much this week,” she said casually.
Alex gestured to the stack on the corner of his table. “Oh, I’m about to weigh it down some more.”
Sage relaxed. He must be adding what Ash had learned while he was away. Alex was also much more cheerful than usual. No doubt because he’d have something to read tonight. Maybe now was a good time. “Captain—” she began, and he glanced up sharply. “Alex,” she continued. “I heard you’re going across the river with a team tomorrow.”
Alex narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “I am.”
“AndIwaswonderingifIcouldgowithyou,” she said quickly.
Alex shook his head. “Sage, we already discussed this.”
Like hell they’d discussed it. “But I can keep up, and I won’t be in the way. Please?”
“You won’t be in the way because you won’t be there.”
“But—”
“I said no.” Alex went back to writing. “You’re not to leave the camp. Do not ask again.”
Sage hadn’t expected him to say yes, but the curt rejection still stung. She left without another word, and went two rows over to watch and wait. It was late, and most in the camp were down for the night. Alex was the only officer still awake. After ten minutes, the lantern in the command tent moved. Alex came out, the light in one hand and Sage’s packet of letters in the other. She edged behind a wall of canvas and waited until he was settled in his own tent for several minutes before creeping back.
The key to a convincing deception, as Sage had learned last year, was to be honest wherever possible. Not only did it reduce the number of lies one had to keep track of, the vulnerability that often came with truth generated empathy in those being deceived. Her letters to Clare were genuine in observation and feeling, even when it came to describing her frustration with Alex and being trapped within the camp perimeter. Part of her hoped he would actually listen to her complaints. The best decoys weren’t fake all by themselves.
Inside the dark command tent, Sage dropped to her knees and felt around for the satchel. Alex had moved the courier’s bag when he added his last letters and removed hers, but it wasn’t far from where she’d last seen it. Quickly, she stuffed the bag’s contents into her tunic, then located Alex’s commander’s seal and tucked it in her sleeve. After a quick listen for anyone nearby, she slipped back out and walked casually to her own tent.
She had to hurry. Not only did she have to read everything in the dozen small packets and reseal them, she had to add what was relevant to her already thick report to the queen. Then she had to return everything to the command tent and leave the satchel a little fuller. Hopefully Alex wouldn’t notice the extra contents when he replaced her letters in the morning. So far he hadn’t.
30
THE NORSARI DID indeed move south. They traveled so swiftly that Huzar had trouble keeping up, but he also lost time seeking out several Kimisar in the region. His tactic of scattering the soldiers had paid off—all were alive and accounted for, and he was able to assemble a nebulous reconnaissance picture along the way. The most helpful information came from the men who knew the area. Demora had doubled its roaming detachments since he’d left a trail south last summer. That would make what Huzar planned trickier, but ironically, the increased movement of Demoran troops would enable him to better cover the tracks of his own force.
When the Norsari began to set up what looked like a permanent camp, Huzar ordered his second-in-command to draw the rest of the men together by the next fading quarter moon. The Demorans would be focused on training for the next few weeks, but the longer Huzar waited, the more the Kimisar risked discovery. Also the more likely the Norsari would be ready to respond, which meant certain death for his men.
Huzar found a hot spring high in the hills west of the Norsari camp and made his observations from there. The area smelled foul due to the sulfur vents in the rocks, but that meant it was less likely to be diligently patrolled, and without the spring he wouldn’t have been able to bear the cold, fireless nights. His biggest challenge was boredom. The days were long when all he could do was wait and watch. As with everything men did, there was a pattern to be exploited. All he needed to do was find it.
The more he observed, the more urgently he wanted to act. Every day the Norsari below grew stronger. Quinn was rather clever to have put his camp whe
re he did—the variety of landscapes made for excellent training. Huzar watched groups of them leave the main camp for days at a time, always going east into the marsh—perhaps as far as the Beskan Gorge—or south across the river, though they hadn’t appeared to venture beyond the trees and into Casmun. Once they came toward him in the west, but never too close for comfort. The stench was his ally. He’d have to remember to bathe or they would smell him coming.
Huzar had several options brewing in his mind. The Kimisar were outnumbered not quite two to one, and his men hadn’t worked together in months. They weren’t nearly cohesive enough to take on those kinds of odds, especially against Norsari. Though it was risky, Huzar planned to divide his men and attack in a way that drew most of the Norsari away from the camp. The squires would be left behind with a smaller force, the prince among them.
Once they had the boy, Captain Quinn might be willing and able to arrange Huzar’s passage himself. His father was the commander on the other side, so he’d certainly know who to talk to over there.
The Kimisar could be home by midsummer.
Home.
31
ALEX SAT IN a rowboat, drifting with the current. The day was cool and breezy, but sweat oozed from every pore on his body. He shivered violently with cold and fear, waiting for what he knew was coming. Shouts and crashes echoed off the rocks around him, growing louder as he approached a bend in the river. He gripped his sword in his right hand while the left steered the boat with an oar.
Almost there.
But he knew what he would see. He saw it every night.
The clash of swords drew his attention to the left bank, where Casseck battled three Kimisar, his back to Alex. Though Cass fought well, he was losing ground, and he’d retreated within a few steps of the river. He had nowhere to go.
