Rain gestured towards the large tent just beyond Shill's men. She smiled as Cid walked with her, Ardin tailing just behind.
“
Perhaps I can find them some accommodations, Highness?” Branston pressed through the crowds of people trying to keep up. “There are a few extra tents on the southern side.”
“
Nonsense, Branston. They're my guests. This is Cid the Cleaver, Captain of the Old Guard, the King's Savior, for goodness sake. He needs not be put out to the farther corners of our camp.” She made a motion with her hand as if shooing away an obsequious child. “They can stay with me for the time being.”
Branston steeled even more at the thought. He glanced at the two guards standing by the entrance of the tent. Their bearing was regal, like kings themselves. Rain led her guests inside, dismissing Branston before he could make his way in.
He stopped at the tent flap. Flustered, he almost made an attempt at following anyway. One look from the guard and a tilt of his long spear, however, put any idea of that far from his mind. With fists clenched and jaw set, he turned scowling from the tent and marched back into the camp.
The interior of Rain's tent was extravagant. It caught Ardin completely off guard. Until this point all he had seen of the Grandian people were rags and poverty. The lavish interior of the Renault quarters seemed completely out of place. Perhaps she really was royalty.
“
Forgive Branston. He has a high view of himself and, unfortunately, his ambitions follow suit,” Rain said as a matter of fact.
She rang what looked like a bell made out of pure gold, and within seconds was attended by two serving girls. They too looked unbelievably beautiful to Ardin. What was with this place?
“
Unfortunately he's very well connected to court as his father controls one of our stronger banners. So we must stomach him yet a while.”
The girls ushered her back behind a series of curtains in the far corner of the lavish tent. It was full of reds and purples, thick tapestries and cloths laced with gold like none Ardin had ever seen before. Chests lined the walls while couches and chairs were littered about as if an afterthought. The whole place felt uncomfortably comfortable.
“
It's understandable, Highness,” Cid said as he stood patiently near the entrance to the tent. Ardin did the same, still uncertain of how to act. “There are always prices to pay for swords.”
“
Yes,” she said. “Though some are higher or more irritating than others.”
Another serving girl entered and poured what looked like water for the guests. Ardin took a drink and choked for a moment. His throat burned. He decided that whatever it was, it certainly wasn't water. Cid downed his in one gulp and held his cup out for a second helping.
“
We have much to discuss,” she said, straining slightly as she spoke. “There isn't much time.”
“
That is most certainly true, Highness.” Cid looked at Ardin quizzically as he tried to finish the strange drink. The old man's voice dropped to a conspiratorial tone. “It's dragon's blood, lad. That's why it burns so. Enjoy it, few men can say they've drank it.”
Ardin stared at the cup for a moment trying to discern whether it was actually blood or not. He'd never heard of clear blood. Then again, he'd never thought dragons were real either.
“
Nothing feels quite so good as getting out of your armor after a fight, isn't that so, Cid?” Rain's
voice floated through the cloth that separated them.
“
Aye, that's so, Highness.”
She appeared from behind the curtains, dressed in a simple green dress, low cut and laced with white. Her hair was wet, still being dried by a handmaiden who struggled to follow and dry at once. She truly did look regal to Ardin in any case. The dragon's blood couldn't be fully blamed for how much his head spun as she made her appearance.
“
First things first.” She did her best to shoo her servant away. “You need to tell me right now. Are you actually Cid the Cleaver? It may mean little more than a morale boost to these people, you're but a name in song to them. To my brother and me the gravity of the implication is much greater.”
Cid stared at her for a while, as if weighing his response. It seemed like an awkwardly long pause to Ardin, especially considering how simple the answer had to be.
“
Aye,” Cid said finally. “That I am.”
She looked at him a bit longer, judging the truth of the matter. Finally she sighed and sat down on a nearby couch. The plump red cushions gave way as she settled in.
“
Then we have much to say and no time in which to say it.” She gestured to the couch across from her. “Please sit.”
“
Who does that little whelp think he is?” Branston fumed as he paced in his tent.
“
Maybe she knows them fr–”
“
She doesn't know them!” He interrupted as he threw his hands up. “She's never seen them
before in her life!”
“
How do you kn–”
“
Have you seen them, Amalgus? They're not from any land near here! They may speak the common tongue but their language is uncouth at best. It matches their manners. They're fools from somewhere else. They wouldn't even pass for civil amongst the Southrons.”
“
Shill said it was the Clea–”
“
It's not Cid the Cleaver! That's impossible! Do you know how old he must be? He would be dead by now. He must be an imposter.”
“
They could be the enemy's age–”
“
They aren't the enemy's agents, you moron! She's not so foolish as to let the enemy just prance into our camp! The woman is brilliant, inspires loyalty in every man she meets. No, she would know.”
Amalgus sighed. He never got much more than a few words out when Branston was in one of his moods. He shifted his weight on the low stool and watched as his friend paced restlessly.
“
Bran, you shouldn't be so ups–”
“
Of course I should be upset! She was to be my betrothed! She's supposed to be mine! Mine,
Amalgus! And now she's found some stray pup to take her fancy!”
“
They're just her gue–”
“
Nonsense! They're pigs! Filthy low-bred pigs! I can't believe she touched him. They're in the royal tent right now! Her tent! I've never once been invited into her tent for anything but official business, Amalgus. Never once!”
Amalgus waited for a while, letting the silence settle. Perhaps he had let the worst of it out now.
“
Well I gu–”
“
You were right, Mal.”
“
I wa–”
“
They must be enemy agents of some sort.”
“
Bran, how can we kn–”
“
That makes perfect sense! They must be! We haven't found any in quite some time... how else
would they have known to meet her when freeing those filthy prisoners?”
“
Coincidence, perha–”
“
No, Amalgus. There are no coincidences. Not where Renaults are involved. We must do something. I must do something.” He stood tall as the realization struck him. His bright blue eyes grew wide as his chest broadened in the moment. “I must save her.”
“
Save he–”
“
Yes, Mal. How better to win a woman's heart than to save her from the enemies that beset her?”
E
IGHTEEN
“
I
'
M NOT GONNA LIE
,”
S
YKES WHISPERED THROUGH THE BARS
.
He had been leaning on them long enough to lose circulation to his left arm. Judging by the tone of in his voice he didn't really care any more. “This is a lot worse of a welcome than I expected.”
Sykes shifted his weight in the darkness. Keaton couldn't see it, but he could hear the sound of cloth on stone as it was dragged under the captain.
“
Seems better than being summarily executed.”
“
True enough,” Sykes agreed with the invisible voice. “Still, seems strange that we got cooped up like this.”
“
At least we're getting food and sleep.”
“
How long have we been down here?”
“
Too long, to be sure. But how long that is... a week? Two?”
“
And we're gonna live here for the rest of our lives?” Sykes managed a cough that was intended to be a chuckle. “I was planning on trying to start a garden before they moved me in here.”
“
You had sunlight where you were?”
“
No. Actually, I was gonna say this is a lot nicer than where I was. But yeah, dirt floor. Though I guess you do need sunlight...”
Keaton was glad to hear Sykes' voice. They had been too wary to talk earlier. He still felt uneasy speaking openly here. He knew the walls would have their ears.
“
So you know how your aunt used to greet you?” Keaton didn't even know if Sykes had an aunt.
“
My aunt from the mountains?” Sykes was quick to pick up. “Sure.”
“
You told me about how when you brought her food she'd jump up and give you a hug.”
“
Called me the most thoughtful of boys, as I recall.”
“
I was thinking about that story. How you accidentally hurt her that one time.”
“
Missing your own aunt, hey Major?”
“
Yeah, thinking I should show more affection myself.”
“
Prison will do that to you. Makes you think about all that stuff you wished you'd done
differently.”
Keaton hoped that the whole conversation wasn't too obvious. “You thinking you should be more affectionate in the future too?”
“
I just need to show more gratitude I think. I mean, especially as hungry as I tend to be around
here, I think I'll be much more grateful in the future.”
Metal grated on stone as something slid in the wall above them.
A voice floated down from nearby. “I'd stop talking about attacking the guard when he brings your meal if I were you. He's liable to stop bringing you food all together.”
“
Lucius?” Keaton could hardly believe it.
“
Aye, sir,” he spat the word. “Though I don't really have to call you sir any more. I've surpassed
you in more ways than one since you've been in here.” He laughed. “Don't worry yourselves in there
too much. Merodach has plans for you, and they don't involve a firing squad. As much as I might try to convince him otherwise.” Lucius laughed again at the awkward pause that followed. Keaton hated that
laugh. “You two shouldn't have come back. They even went so far as to send three times the backup
you needed with Vasquez to draw attention to you, and you still managed to survive. More than can be
said for Vasquez, I'd wager.”
“
What happened to my men?” Sykes demanded. They had all been separated when discovered south of the city. They hadn't seen daylight since black bags had covered their heads, nor heard word of any of the others since.
“
I didn't say Merodach's plans involved your men.”
Sykes exploded in the darkness. “You bastard! Where are they?”
“
You should just be grateful you didn't have to join them. Let's leave it at that. As for you, Major, I think you'll find yourself envious of their fate soon enough.”
Metal scraped stone as the invisible window slid shut.
“
Oh God...” Sykes slumped back to the floor. “I should never have left them.”
“
You didn't know.” Keaton empathized with the captain. He'd lost men himself. It was among the worst things he had ever experienced. “You couldn't have. And in any case, it was beyond you to do anything about it.”
“
I should have known...”
Major Anders Keaton let the point go. Sykes needed time to figure it out for himself. But time was one thing Keaton wasn't sure they had.
“
We should just plug them full of holes and get it over with,” Lucius muttered as he stepped out of the observation room. They had hoped that once reunited, Sykes and Keaton would divulge what they knew to each other. But they were proving too crafty. Too self-aware. Even if they did try to make foolhardy attempts at speaking in code.
“
Aye sir, why don't we then?”
“
Orders, you idiot. Don't even think about it.” He put his gloves on as he lingered by the door. “We really should, though. They know too damn much. If they get out and talk to the wrong people...”
“
I can do it myself, sir.”
“
Would you– I'm talking to myself. I'm not talking to you. Why would I be talking to
you
?”
“
Sorry sir.” The private's spine snapped straight as a prison bar.
“
You see this star?” He pointed above the brim of his hat. “I don't just wear it because it makes me feel pretty. I'm a general. I don't talk to peons like you. That's what the chain of command is for.” He shoved his finger under the man's throat to drive his point home. “Think about this you idiot. Those men in there know too much. They've seen things and experienced things that put our city and her territory at jeopardy. Now, you're standing out here guarding them. In theory you shouldn't have access to such information, but for all we know you could have snuck in and heard them talking.”