“When you lie to me, I know it,” Kathlan said. “Not always right away, and not always understanding the truth you won’t tell me. But I can tell the lies, Chriani. You’ve given me far too much practice over time.”
“Kath…”
“You can tell me there’s things you’re not allowed to say. I’m not asking for your secret orders or the sotting Valnirata’s battle plans. But when you tell me you can’t say it, I know when the truth is you can say it but you won’t. So what do you want to say to me right now?”
She needed the truth. He owed her the truth.
“There are things I can’t say to you now, Kath. I just need…”
She shook her head, pushed past him and was at the door in three strides.
“I love you, Kath.”
Kathlan slowed for a single step but didn’t stop. She didn’t look back as she slipped inside.
That was the truth. But it was the only truth Chriani could offer her, and he had always known it wouldn’t be enough.
That was the truth, and had been true even throughout everything that had happened. The dark path. His return from Aerach. Because all the while he had walked that path, every step he’d taken along the road back, Chriani understood that it had been Kathlan he’d been walking back to.
He had known then that if he lost her, he’d have nothing left. Had always known it. And so he lied to her, because he knew in his heart that if he ever told her the truth, it would take her from him. Force her away and push her to a place of hating him. No way to ever bring her back.
He made a circuit of the inn yard, checking on the first watch. Not a thing he needed to do, but he had to walk. When he was done walking, he returned to the loft, the other two rangers asleep. He set his bedroll as far from them as he could, waited in the darkness for a time while he listened to their steady breathing. He pulled the hunter’s heart from his belt then, saw it still dark. He stared at it for a long while before he slipped it away again, then let himself sleep.
THE RAIN BROKE BEFORE dawn, the squad already awake and fed and ready to ride. Chriani had been the first one up, relieving Beah on last watch and telling her to take more sleep if she could. When he heard the first stirrings in the stables, he waited out of sight behind the inn. As expected, Kathlan was outside a short while later, Dargana in tow as she went to check the horses’ morning feed.
The rangers were in good spirits as they ate, the general mood of the squad having improved over a dry night and with the promise of better weather ahead. Kathlan’s mood compensated, though, when she appeared in the common room just long enough to snatch up bread and cold beef to take back with her to the stables. Her silence was knife-sharp, her gaze ignoring Chriani with great dexterity. Dargana was close behind her, Chriani catching the exile’s dark eyes on him as she went.
They made good time on the road despite the mud, Chriani leading them along the main trade route for Aleran as Ashlund’s orders had indicated. The capital city wasn’t their destination, though. Instead, they were seeking a sprawling market village called Dunacha, a half day’s ride into the farmsteads outlying Werrancross to the east. They followed merchant traffic to find it, the sun just past high as they rode through. Chriani spotted a tall league marker at the center of the village’s broad central green. Three roads led off and away from it, heading back west for Werrancross, toward Aleran east and north, and to Teillai away to east and south.
Standing to the side of the Aleran road, away from the wagon traffic but still within easy sight, the Aerachi squad was waiting as expected. Six rangers and a lieutenant, all in green and grey. The eagle of Aerach was embossed on black leather at their shoulders. But on their saddlebags, Chriani saw the lion that was the sigil of Teillai and Castle Osthegn.
The games princes play, Irdaign had said. He likely wouldn’t have noticed without her warning.
As the Brandishear rangers approached, a tall figure at the head of the Aerachi squad nodded toward the far edge of an adjacent willow copse. The two groups converged there, farther from the crossroads and well out of earshot of any traffic. Chriani saw eyes on him from the Aerachi side, felt the gaze of his own rangers just as strong at his back.
He had no idea what to do, he realized. No idea of what official greetings he should be making, no idea of the Aerachi salute. Thankfully, a lack of knowledge had never slowed him down before.
“Well met,” Chriani called. In the absence of a salute, he gave a full nod. “I’m Sergeant Chriani. I trust the weather on the road from Teillai was drier for you than the Werrancross road was for us last night.”
He caught a flicker of surprise in the Aerachi leader’s expression as he reined to a stop. “Well met to you, and Lieutenant Venry at your service.” He returned Chriani’s nod, though not as deep. “Duke Allenis Andreg sends his favor, and his apologies that the squad of the Prince High Vishod’s guard meant to meet you were unexpectedly reassigned.”
Chriani gave a shrug of well-practiced indifference. “On the contrary, I welcome it. The rangers of Teillai know the Hunthad lands better than any. I’m sure you would have been Prince Chanist’s first choice as escort if he hadn’t known that seeking out the duke directly would have vexed your prince to no end.”
From the corner of his eye, Chriani caught the Brandishear rangers’ surprised reactions to his diplomatic tone. He knew that only Kathlan would recognize it for what it was, though — a blunt mimicry of Barien. It was the sergeant’s voice he was using, and the appearance at least of his deft statecraft.
“Indeed,” Venry said. “I understand that you are in command?” An unexpected emphasis on the last word.
“I am. And am surprised, frankly, to see a lieutenant sent out as escort for a sergeant’s squad.”
“As surprised as the duke was to hear that an acting sergeant had been entrusted with such a mission.”
And so the diplomacy ended. Chriani smiled. “I appreciate, then, what manner of punishment the duke must have felt you owed for him to have set you the assignment.”
From the dark looks that flashed between the Aerachi rangers, Chriani guessed that he had hit close to the truth. Venry simply nodded. “My squad is at your command then, sergeant. And we would appreciate you naming our destination.”
“Seeing as I’ve never been there, I’ve got no way to know the name, lieutenant. I’ll be trusting you for that. I can give you directions, though. We follow the Hunthad along the frontier and into the Valnirata lands.”
“To arrive where?”
“We’ll know when we…”
Chriani was interrupted by a shout from behind Venry, catching both him and the lieutenant by surprise.
“Blood and fucking moonsign… They ride with Ilvani!”
One of the Aerachi riders bolted forward. The only female in their squad, she was tall and imposing, scale mail at her neck and shoulders over well-worn leather. Before Chriani or Venry could so much as move, she had pushed forcefully ahead and into the Brandishear squad. The rangers pressed back in alarm, horses blowing their agitation as the Aerachi warrior’s steed pushed in tight against Kathlan and Dargana.
“Jeradien!” Venry called. “On me, now!”
The ranger made no sign that she heard him. Chriani caught a flash of blades as he wheeled around, Dargana and Jeradien both drawing as one. They were a kind of mirror image with their black hair and eyes, and a matching ferocity in those eyes that Chriani could see. Dargana slashed axe and bloodblade across each other and into a defensive posture, the Aerachi’s longsword angled to block her body.
“What treason is this?” the ranger Jeradien shouted. Her gaze darted from Dargana to her lieutenant, her rage palpable. “The orders said nothing about an Ilvani…”
“Your orders are the same as our orders,” Chriani said, cutting her off. “To be envoy to the Valnirata. Were you not expecting to meet Ilvani along the way?”
Jeradien drew herself up to her full height. For one long moment of uncertainty, Chriani was c
ertain she would have tried to cut him down if Dargana had been close enough to catch on the backswing.
Unlike in Brandishear, it was unusual to find females in the guard of Aerach, Chriani knew. Eighty leagues from Rheran as the hawk would fly it, but this land might as well have been a world away. Though not specifically excluded from service, women remained rare in uniform because the principality’s laws favored a strict political patriarchy. Most who sought out military service were found in the ranks of the healers when they were found at all. Among the officers of Aerach, women were all but nonexistent, with those holding the necessary combination of aspiration and connections set for marrying instead. More valuable to their families as tokens of alliance than as champions of real power.
Chriani had ignored the affairs and customs of Aerach and the other Ilmar principalities for most of his life, and been happy while he did it. Then the proclamations came to say that the Princess Lauresa was to marry in Aerach. He had learned a lot since then.
He worked himself closer to Jeradien, to keep her from focusing on Dargana if nothing else. “Back away now, soldier, or your hand becomes a trophy.”
“You dare…”
“I won’t be the one taking it.”
In all the tension of the standoff, Dargana hadn’t moved. Hadn’t spoken. She was watching Jeradien, eyes wide and unblinking. Breathing slowly. Her mare likewise stood motionless, even as the other horses felt the rising tension and attempted to shift away from each other, not wanting to be crowded if the command came to fight or flee.
Chriani’s own horse started underneath him. Venry was pushing between the two of them, both horses shifting back, heads up to show their wariness. “Jeradien,” the lieutenant called, “you will stand down now.” It took a long moment of waiting before the Aerachi ranger flicked the reins to send her horse stepping back. At once, Venry had turned on Chriani instead.
“My squad, sergeant.” The lieutenant’s voice was pitched to carry to Chriani’s squad and his own. A challenge issued. “My ranger. If you presume to give orders to her or anyone else under my command again…”
“If you want my silence, Venry, then keep your squad under control.”
“I’ll have respect from you, sergeant…”
“You’ll have what respect you earn, lieutenant. And you’re spending far more than you’re earning right now.”
The look of outrage on Venry’s face was steel-hard as Chriani slipped his horse past him, facing off against the Aerachi rangers where they stood still circled. His eye swept the road to see a pair of horses being walked there, a line of farm ox-carts heavy with late hay working their way through the mud.
“I’ll say this once.” He pitched his voice to carry to both squads around him, but so that no one else would hear. “This is Dargana of the Crithnalerean. She rides with Brandishear because she hates the Valnirata Ilvani with as much passion as any of you. She’s likely killed more of them than have any of you. She has my trust and the trust of the Prince High Chanist. That’s my first and last word on this.”
In the words, in his gaze as he met the eyes of the Aerachi one by one, Chriani felt all his memories of Barien twisting through him. The strength of the warrior’s voice, the evenness of his tone. Always careful to never let an order turn to anger, even as anyone who heard Barien’s orders understood the anger the sergeant was capable of if those orders were ignored. Chriani had heard those orders in the dust of the training ground, on short patrol around Rheran. He had heard them on the longer journeys that had taken him across Brandishear with Lauresa, Barien guarding the princess with a single-minded determination, Chriani at his side.
As a child, not long after he’d been taken in by Barien, Chriani had asked the sergeant why he’d never made higher rank. He was surprised when the warrior told him he’d never tried. “You could have title,” Chriani had said. “You could have all the soldiers taking your orders, not just some.”
Barien had laughed at the time. “The power to give orders don’t come with title, boy. Power comes from others having your back when the title stops meaning anything. When you’re captain in the barracks, you’ve got whole companies saying they’ll stand behind you. But pushing through mud on a battlefield, cut off from the front line and nowhere to run but into swords, plenty of captains find out just how far behind them their troops are standing.”
“But why can’t you do both? Be someone who can make others follow you first? Then get your title when you know you’re good enough?”
The warrior had grown more thoughtful then. “Because by the time you’ve become good enough to be someone others will follow, you’ve learned that the title isn’t important anymore.”
Chriani waited until he heard Venry moving at his back before he wheeled his horse, stepping it forward to block the lieutenant’s path.
“I know what your orders are,” he said, still speaking loud enough that the other rangers could hear him. “I know the duke who gave them to you, and I can guess how it rankles him to have to play Vishod’s games. Denying Chanist’s request for the prince’s own escort so he can distance himself from our effort if it fails. But your duke commands you, and any of you who can’t fulfill that command, anyone who doubts the importance of this mission, ride back to him now and make your excuses.”
He remembered Irdaign’s talk of the obedience of Andreg’s troops to their duke. He understood the difference of how far they’d stand behind him or that duke in the battles Barien had spoken of.
Dargana still had her weapons drawn. Chriani met her gaze, slapped his own scabbard as a warning. Slowly, she returned the axe to her belt, sheathed the bloodblade behind her. As she did, Venry jerked his reins to spin away from Chriani. He took his place at the head of the Aerachi contingent, Jeradien falling in behind him.
“How long to the Greatwood along the river?” Chriani called to the lieutenant.
“Four days south from Werrancross,” Venry said coldly. “If your squad can keep up.”
Chriani ignored the insult as he found Jessa in the Brandishear squad, waved her toward the Teillai road to the south that was their first course. Then because he didn’t know any of the other Aerachi’s names, he called to Jeradien, spurred close to her. “Our best scout is Jessa, but you know your frontier better than any of us. Take point with her, keep a good pace.”
The tall ranger made no eye contact with Chriani, looking to Venry for his nod before she spurred ahead.
The squads fell into two lines behind their respective scouts, Venry riding the outside as if to put as much distance between himself and Chriani as he could. Chriani let himself fall back like he was watching behind them, but it was Kathlan he rode up to where she brought up the rear.
“I need you to keep an even closer eye on Dargana. Stay between her and the Aerachi if you can.”
“As you say, lord.”
The distance between the two of them gave her voice the crispness of new ice underfoot. Chriani tried to soften his own tone, tried to focus. Conscious of a sudden brittleness to his thoughts. “It’s not her I’m worried about, mind you. It’s any Aerachi that gets close enough to her…”
“As you say, lord.”
Dargana was riding outside on the Brandishear side. Kathlan spurred ahead to slide in beside her, not looking back.
The weather stayed clear for the remainder of the day, though cloud from the north came and went as the rangers rode. They made good time with Jeradien and Jessa leading them, the landscape not much changed from Brandishear but wholly unfamiliar all the same.
Though the Greatwood was still too far away to be seen, its green darkness loomed along the horizon to the south and west. But the juxtaposition of sun and forest created along that horizon seemed wrong to Chriani somehow. A lifetime in Brandishear had fixed the impression in his mind of the Greatwood standing always south and east, far out of sight but gleaming green along the horizon with the light of each rising sun. Here, though, the sun slowly falling marked the unse
en wood as they rode, a line of shadow spreading to the west. No glimmer of mountains seen as the day was swallowed by the distant trees.
They set camp the first night well past dusk, a good distance from the road and out of sight of the last farmstead village they had passed. Both squads ate field rations over a shared fire, but there was precious little conversation between them. Jeradien and Dargana both stayed in their tents.
Chriani’s only conversation with Venry involved the setting of the watch, the lieutenant’s tone cold. He ignored that tone as he offered to take the first watch himself with one of Venry’s rangers. Knowing he wasn’t likely to sleep anytime soon. He hoped the tangible tension in both squads would settle during the next day’s ride, but expected that he was hoping in vain.
The Hunthad River marked their movement toward the frontier starting on the second day. They crossed its muddy waters as the sun was reaching high, taking a broad stone bridge that arced up and over a rushing narrows, just past where the trade road curved east for Teillai. Chriani knew from experience that the river could be forded in winter when its waters were low, though he was happy to not have to do so now. But it was that memory that caused him to feel the landscape’s sense of strangeness shift to an unexpected and unwelcome familiarity.
As the less-traveled track they followed twisted south, he recognized the wild meadowlands through which he and Lauresa had emerged from Ilvani territory. The unmarked and shifting boundary between the exile lands of Crithnalerean and their current destination of Laneldenar to the south. Memories of that flight were a year and a half old but still fresh in his mind. Not like the memories of the Bastion, wrapped now in their own sense of distance. These were raw as yesterday’s thought, even as much as Chriani wanted to push them away.
As he’d expected, the angry silence hanging over both squads the first day had worn on and grown even heavier by the time they stopped for the second night. Jeradien and Jessa led them to a collection of farmsteads whose stables were large enough to accommodate the horses of both squads. The rangers pitched their field tents in the adjacent just-mown meadow, Dargana and Kathlan’s set at a distance and the exile kept well out of sight.
Three Coins for Confession Page 20
