by Erin Beaty
What he’d done nagged at him. Alex had fully expected to take prisoners when the Casmuni ventured back into Demora, and the Norsari would’ve been justified in doing so, but these men had been taken from their own land. It wasn’t right.
Alex needed answers, though, and not just for Colonel Traysden’s arrival. With so much of the army tied up in Tasmet, a force could march all the way to Tennegol virtually unchecked. If the Casmuni were working with the Kimisar, it could be the end of Demora.
How was he going to talk to these men?
Sage would be able to read the silent Casmuni like a book. Languages were one of her many strengths, too; if anyone could communicate with them, it was her. That meant bringing her into the circle of information, which until now had been him and Ash, and Alex welcomed her insight more than anyone else’s. He could also finally include his officers. It was no longer a secret he had to carry alone.
Now that he had these men, however, things were also bound to get more dangerous. When Alex sent his report to the king, he would try to convince Sage to be the courier. The royal family trusted her, and it was important enough that she wasn’t likely to refuse. Maybe he should send the prince as well. Uncle Raymond wanted the boy to grow up, but at some point the risk was too great.
They walked through the day and into the night until the moon rose. With its light, he felt safe enough to set up camp, and as the men had been walking for almost twenty hours straight, rest was imperative. Alex couldn’t be sure of his location, but he suspected he had only another thirty or forty miles to the river.
Almost there.
40
SUNRISE WASN’T FOR another hour, and Sage swayed with weariness, but she had to talk to the Casmuni while most of the Norsari were asleep or otherwise occupied. Nicholas himself was snoring inside their low tent.
She worried how she would get the man on guard away, but the Casmuni were alone in the tent, both asleep with their hands and feet bound. “Darit,” she whispered, nudging his shoulder gently.
Darit opened his eyes and blinked a few times. “Saizsch Fahler?”
“Yes,” she answered in Casmuni, pulling her scarf under her chin. “Water?”
He nodded, and she gave him a sip from her canteen. Darit sat up on his elbow. “Why are you here?” he asked.
“Here with you, or here in Casmun?”
Darit smiled ironically. “Both.”
Only desperation—or orders—could have driven Alex to be so reckless, but neither explanation reflected well on Demora. “I know not why in Casmun,” she said. “I wish help for you. But you must first speak answers.”
He studied her for a moment. “Where did you learn Casmuni speech?”
“I learn words from old treaties,” she answered. “Is it well?”
Darit’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “You speak like a child.”
Sage grinned. “Understanding is most important.”
“Yes.” The humorous expression vanished. “What are your questions?”
Sage took a deep breath. “Why Casmuni come in Demora last year?”
“We did not.”
“We see proof,” she insisted. “Casmuni come and go ten months past.”
“Close to here?” She nodded, and he shook his head. “Impossible. The desert does not allow it.”
Just as the trade agreements had said. “How know I this is truth?” she pressed.
Darit’s lips twisted up in a half smile. “Try to cross the sand after the solstice, and you will see for yourself.”
The extra words in his answer overwhelmed her, and it took him repeating them twice for her to understand. Sage glanced around nervously. A guard could come in at any moment. “Then who come? Kimisar? Are you allies?”
A look of disgust crossed Darit’s face. “Zara will grow in the desert before Casmun allies with Kimisara.”
Zara had been something much traded in the documents. Sage’s best guess was that it was a type of grain. “Can you prove?” she asked. “If yes, I make my friends give you freedom.” It was a bold offer she wasn’t likely to be able to honor, but she made it anyway.
“I have friends who can take my freedom.” He leaned forward. “Many more friends than you have here.”
Darit was likely part of a patrol sent from a larger group, meaning that group was probably days away, so that was a bluff, at least for now, but Sage played along. “What do you when free?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Report to my king. He has interest in your country. That is why we visit the border.”
“To spy?” It was becoming easier to understand him, partly because he spoke so she could tell his carefully chosen words apart.
“To assess manners. Not so nice, I think.”
Sage’s mind raced. If the desert was impassible after the solstice, Darit didn’t have much time to get back. “Your friends wait for your return?” she asked.
Darit must have been thinking along the same lines. “In several days. After that I will not be able to meet or follow them.” He stopped suddenly, seeming to realize he’d admitted he did not expect a rescue.
“They abandon you if late?”
The Casmuni swallowed and nodded. “Yes. They must return. The springs are fading.”
“Until next year,” she said, not making it a question that his friends would come back for him.
Darit looked her in the eye. “Yes. Until next year.”
The Norsari coming into Casmun like this was tantamount to an act of war. Taking these men captive only made it worse. Sage had to undo the damage before Demora had a real invasion on its hands. She had to tell someone what she knew—that the Casmuni hadn’t scouted into Demora and had no intention of invading. Holding these men now risked provoking the very war Alex was trying to prevent.
Sage rose to her feet, intending to go straight to Alex, but the sudden vision of trying to explain everything stopped her cold. He wouldn’t listen. Not only had she spoken to the Casmuni, she’d gone behind his back for weeks—essentially spied against him, but that would all be eclipsed by the fact that she was here now. Alex would be so furious she wouldn’t get ten words out. Within hours of returning to camp, she’d be on her way back to Tennegol. Going through Lieutenant Gramwell or waiting until she could plead her case to Casseck wouldn’t help. At least not in time.
Darit watched as she paced, silently arguing with herself. The Casmuni king was approaching Demora cautiously, testing their “manners,” as Darit said. Sage had no doubt they’d be back next year. Whether they crossed the desert with an angry army or with the intention to talk depended on the release of these men.
If they were to be freed, she would have to do it. Alone.
Sage sank to her knees in front of Darit. “Time is little,” she said. “If I give you freedom, will you speak well of Demora?”
Darit looked skeptical. “Is that in your power, Saizsch Fahler? I have watched you, and you are lowest among these men.”
“I act without permission.”
He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Why would you do this?”
“This is all bad understanding,” she said. “I repair mistake.”
Darit struggled to sit up straight. “It will be trouble for you.”
Alex’s anger didn’t frighten her nearly as much as the consequences of holding these men too long. Her actions would go all the way to the king himself, but at least he’d listen, especially with the queen on her side. Sage set her jaw. “I am more than you see.”
“That I believe,” Darit said dryly.
Sage stood again and dusted sand off her trousers. With the new moon coming, tonight would have several dark hours. She had to start planning. “I must go,” she said, pulling her head scarf around her face, leaving only her eyes exposed.
He reached up for her hand with his bound ones. “Good fortune, Saizsch Fahler.”
She squeezed his fingers back, trying to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach. What she planned to do bordered on tr
eason. “Be ready.”
Sage ducked out of the tent and slammed full force into Alex.
41
SAGE STUMBLED BACKWARD, but Alex caught her arm before she was fully off her feet. “Easy, kid,” he said, pulling her upright.
When she was steady, he let her go. Sage cowered away from him, her mind scrambling for traction. Henry usually avoided Alex’s attention, but he would’ve said something. “Sorry, sir,” she rasped, trying to imitate the way the squire’s voice had begun to crack and break.
“No harm.” Alex sounded tired. “Henry, isn’t it?”
She nodded, staring at the ground. Whatever she did, she could not let him see her eyes. Thank the Spirit it was still fairly dark.
“What were you doing in there, Henry?” Alex asked sternly, though he sounded slightly amused.
Sage raised the canteen so he could see it. “Giving them water,” she squeaked.
“Good initiative.” He patted her shoulder and moved around her to the tent where Darit and Malamin lay. Sage edged away as Alex lifted the flap to look inside. “Already asleep,” he said. “They’ll need it. We’re marching through the night again tonight. I want to get to the river by noon tomorrow.”
Sage had managed to take several steps, trying to look like a boy who really didn’t want to be there right now.
Alex dropped the fabric and turned away. “Get some rest, kid.”
Then he was gone.
Sage was still shaking when she reached her low tent and crawled in beside Nicholas. That had been too close, but now she knew it had to be tonight. She nudged the prince. “Harold, wake up.”
Nicholas grunted and rolled away. She punched his shoulder until he rolled back. “What do you want, Henry?” he groaned.
“I need your help.”
* * *
The Norsari broke camp an hour before dusk, Alex giving all the men a chance to sleep several hours between sentry rotations. Sage and Nicholas kept their backs to most of the activity as they packed tents, surreptitiously pouring lamp oil on the fabric before rolling it up. They couldn’t risk their fire being put out before it provided the distraction they needed.
Alex stayed near the prisoners while they marched, meaning she and Nicholas would have to wait until the group stopped to rest, and he moved away from them. Sage also kept an eye on the bundle that contained the weapons Darit and Malamin had been carrying when they were captured. If she could get them to the Casmuni, she would, but it was a secondary goal.
The wind picked up, bringing a thick bank of clouds that completely covered the sky. Alex tied a strip of cloth to the top of a spear and used it to orient them, as the wind came reliably from the west. Even so, the pace was almost as slow as it had been during the sandstorm.
Maybe it was her tenseness or her inability to see the stars, but Sage began to feel like they were never going to stop, that Alex would push the men straight through the night without a break. How was Nicholas to start the fire if the gear wasn’t in a pile? She wasn’t willing to light up a pack if someone was wearing it, though she had to admit it would be quite the diversion.
The man in front of her stopped, and she ran into him, then was immediately crushed from behind by the prince. There were grunts and muffled thuds as everyone realized a halt had been called. No one could see anything.
“Twenty minutes to rest,” Lieutenant Gramwell called.
Finally.
The squires’ job now was to pass out a small ration of dried venison and fruit. Sage lit a lantern with shaking fingers and passed the flame stick to Nicholas. “Give me fifteen minutes,” she whispered.
He grabbed her elbow. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I have to. Are you still with me?”
“Of course. Tell Darit I said good luck.” He turned away and disappeared into the darkness.
Sage dug around in her ration bag until she found the wrapped packet she wanted. As she walked along the line passing out handfuls, she held the open cloth between her eyes and the lantern, keeping her face shadowed. When she got to Alex, she nearly fainted when he grabbed her leg. “Is Lieutenant Gramwell back the way you came?”
“Yes, sir,” she gasped through the scarf over her mouth.
Alex hopped up from where he was sitting. “Make sure the prisoners get a bite and some water.”
He was gone before she could answer. Sage stumbled away in the opposite direction, trying not to run. She reached the group at the head of the line and raised the shutter on the lantern higher, hoping to ruin their night vision. Then she continued forward, cranking the light down again. The Norsari paid her no attention as she felt around the stack of gear she knew the Casmuni weapons must be in, searching for the distinctive curved blades. Luck was with her, and she found them on the windward side of the pile, opposite of where men were stepping away from the small gathered circles to relieve themselves. She eased the wrapped bundle from under a bedroll and set it on the edge so it would look naturally placed if anyone found it. Then she set the lantern nearby and lowered the shutter almost completely.
Darit and Malamin were on the other side, and she made her way to them, keeping one eye on the dark shapes of the Norsari barely distinguishable only a few yards away. The Casmuni pair sat unmoving, and she nearly tripped over them.
“Saizsch?” Darit whispered.
“Yes,” she answered. “The time is here.” Sage dropped to her knees and pulled a dagger from her belt with one hand and groped around for the ropes that bound him with the other. A sudden gust of wind made several Norsari groan in frustration, the sounds providing extra cover.
“The Spirit has blessed us; I have never seen a night so black.” His wrists free, Darit rubbed them and stretched his arms while Sage got to work on Malamin’s bonds.
“You must hurry.” She shoved her ration bag and water sling at him before scooting back to slash through the ropes on their ankles. Sage unhooked the sheath from under her tunic and slid her dagger into it before holding it out to Darit. “Your weapons are with the light, but take this also, that Demorans will know you when you return in friendship.”
The phrase about returning in friendship was one she’d seen in several documents. She hoped she said the words correctly.
Darit’s warm hand wrapped around hers for a second as he took the knife. “You do not need it?”
“I have another.” At her waist, the worn handle of Alex’s dagger dug into her ribs. Before sneaking into the mission, she’d wrapped strips of leather around both hilts to hide their distinctive gold letters.
Darit set his right hand on her right shoulder. “Go with fortune, Saizsch Fahler.”
All agreements shall be sealed with the clasping of shoulders, so that sides are exposed while no weapons are in hand.
Sage placed her hand on his shoulder in return. “Basmedar, Darit Yamon.”
42
SAGE SHUFFLED BACK to the circle of Norsari, hoping to draw any wandering eyes from the shadows now crawling around the stack of tents and bedrolls. “My lantern went out,” she said. “And my flint is back down the line. Can I borrow yours, Corporal?”
Not knowing whom she was addressing, three men stood at once, patting themselves down, digging in pockets for their own flints. One was passed to her in the darkness. She took it and pretended to fumble through several unsuccessful lighting attempts. One of the soldiers nudged her. “Turn around, kid, you’re in the wind.”
She also didn’t have anything to light, but it didn’t matter. At that moment a small bonfire went up near the end of the line. Nicholas had dropped his own lantern on the oiled tents. Men shouted and ran toward the light. Those not close enough to help stood to watch their companions pull the flaming pile of gear apart and stomp on the flames, turning their back on the desert.
Keep looking. Keep looking. Keep looking.
Alex strode around the crowd, giving directions. With the wind, it took a while to get things under control. Just before the fire was exti
nguished, he spun around and called for everyone to arm up. “We’ve just announced our presence! Form a perimeter. Sergeants, account for your people and report.”
The last flames went out, and the air was filled with curses as men blundered about in the sudden darkness. Every second was needed for Darit and Malamin to get as far away as possible and for the wind to cover their tracks, so Sage tried to encourage confusion in little ways. Someone asked where the Casmuni were, and she called out that Lieutenant Gramwell had taken them. It was only a few minutes before chaos became order, even in the pitch darkness.
Alex was coming. “Who has the prisoners?” he called.
“Lieutenant Gramwell, sir,” someone answered.
“No, he doesn’t. I just left him.”
“Henry was feeding ’em last I knew.”
“Then where’s Henry?” Alex said. He sounded worried.
Men called up and down the line for the missing squire.
Sage crept around the back of the pile of gear, keeping it between her and the sound of Alex’s voice. The searching became more frantic.
“A torch!” Alex bellowed. “I need a torch!” A flame sparked and grew in the direction of the smoldering fire. Someone must have used the embers. A soldier came running with it.
She should have taken the cut ropes; Alex would find them as soon as he had light. Sage had to do more to slow down the discovery and chase. She turned and sprinted blindly into the desert, making messy tracks she hoped weren’t in the direction the Casmuni had gone. She ran over and down several dunes until she was out of breath. Then she scaled one last hill hunched over, digging her fingers into the sand. When she came to the crest, she threw herself over the top and rolled down to the bottom of the other side and lay there, sprawled.
It was many long minutes before a glow appeared over the rise, accompanied by shouting. Sage turned her face away and closed her eyes. Hopefully she’d given Darit and Malamin another twenty minutes while the Norsari tracked her down. Now she’d give them even more time.
