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Authors: Scott Fitzgerald Gray

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“We would have you be safe in all things,” Irdaign said when the
sensation had passed. “It is a small magic that flows in me. A personal magic.
But it might help you in time. Until our next meeting.”

The question forced its way from Chriani’s mind to his voice
without him being able to focus it. He heard the words twisted by the fear
still settling in him. “Have you seen that already? Our next meeting?”

“No. I only hope it.”

Irdaign stretched up to kiss him on the cheek, Chriani realizing
how slight the princess precedent was when she stood at his side. At all other
times, he felt a power in her that made her presence seem larger. He walked
away from her but glanced back once to see her standing tall again, drifting
back into the shadows.

He touched his chest as he walked, felt nothing there but the
warmth of the fire traced into his leather. He didn’t make the moonsign,
though. He felt a kind of false pride in that as he found Kathlan and Dargana
at the bonfire, motioned that it was time to go.

The horses were dry and suspiciously well rested, Chriani
recognizing Kathlan’s handiwork but suspecting that the Leisanmira who waved
their goodbyes as they saw them off had some part in it. All of Kathlan’s
questions showed in her expression as they set off, lanterns deployed against
the night and the rain that was starting heavy again. Chriani said nothing to her
as they rode.

At the cairns, he saw light waiting that told him they were the
last ones back. He ignored the rangers’ dark looks, heard from
Walaric — the real one this time — that they had found a
roadhouse that would suit. Only two rooms left, but the innkeeper had promised
to hold them and offered a stable with loft space for the rest.

“We were worried at your absence, lord,” Wilric called out as
they rode. Chriani heard the same challenge in his voice that he’d heard in the
forest earlier that day, but he made a more measured response this time.

“I had arranged to meet with a messenger from Teillai. Word on
our mission. I apologize for the secrecy.”

When he spoke, it was with the clear purpose of Kathlan hearing,
so Chriani wasn’t surprised when she responded.

“Why Teillai? I thought our orders were to meet with Vishod’s
force out of Aleran?”

“Vishod changed the order,” Chriani said. “Sotting princes
playing games.” Even as he said it, he felt himself hoping that Irdaign’s
information was correct.

 

The run-down condition of the roadhouse made it clear why two
rooms had been open so late on a night of rain. However, the stables were dry,
the stew piping hot, the bread fresh, and the ale better than Chriani had
hoped. He ordered the squad off duty at once, letting them eat while he oversaw
the stable grooms tending to the horses. He paid for two rounds at the bar in
advance, the dark looks of at least a few of the rangers softening even as he
left.

He arranged for Kathlan and Dargana to take one of the two rooms,
then assigned the three rangers who would do watch for the night to share the
other. It was part of the routine for any patrol, though Chriani doubted it
would be necessary this deep into settled lands. He was fine with the stables,
anxious to not undo whatever peace he’d made with the squad by taking the best
for himself.

But at the back of his mind, lurking where he didn’t want to have
to see it, Chriani understood also how anxious he was to not talk to Kathlan.
Not now, not tonight at any rate. He needed time for rest and silence in the
aftermath of what Dargana had said that morning, and his conversation with
Irdaign. Gathering his thoughts before the questions he knew were coming.

But as he entered the stables after eating, he saw Kathlan look up
from where she was tending his horse.

Chriani had watched her go upstairs with Dargana at the end of
the meal, was positive she hadn’t slipped past him in the common room while he
ate by himself. Out through the window, he guessed. Knowing she needed to catch
him off guard. He made a note of the proximity of the two other rangers bunking
in the loft, heard them talking quietly to each other. He tried to find the
appropriate tone to ask what Kathlan was doing, but she beat him to it.

“I wanted to check his feet before I slept, lord.” She spoke just
loud enough for the rangers above her to hear. “A lot of running in the woods
today.”

“You should be with Dargana.” All Chriani could think to say.

Kathlan’s voice quieted, pitched only for his ears now. “We’d best
make this quick then.”

Her dark eyes met his, Chriani silent a moment. Then he nodded as
he knelt beside her, made it look like he was inspecting her handiwork as she
used a hooked awl to pick debris from his horse’s hooves and shoes.

“What did you and the Ilvani talk about today? What is it she
doesn’t want me to hear?”

“The same as you already heard in the throne room, plus some
thought on where we’re headed and what we might meet there. She won’t talk in
front of Chanist’s rangers or Vishod’s. Doesn’t want to give up what she knows
of the Ilvani in case the others turn on her before this is done.”

“Who was it you met with tonight?” She asked the question almost
before Chriani had finished speaking, no sense of how she had judged his first
answer.

“I said it true before. An agent from Teillai. She wanted to tell
me about Vishod’s change of plans so I didn’t look a fool when we meet the
escort.”

“She didn’t look much like any guard scout to me.”

“She wasn’t. She’s with the duke’s household, came to us of her
own accord. It’s not important.”

“Then how did you know to look for her there? The middle of a
rainstorm, the middle of nowhere…?”

“The badge the prince’s mage gave me does other things. Court
magic. Messages.”

The lies came too quickly sometimes. Too easily. Chriani saw
Kathlan glance to the steel ring at his finger. He saw the question in her
mind, was relieved when she asked another instead.

“So why did the message not come from Vishod himself?”

“I said before, it’s princes’ games, Kath. It’s not important.”

“Chriani…”

“I said it’s not important.”

His voice was barely a whisper, but the sharp bite of the command
in his tone brought Kathlan’s hand to a stop. She stared at the horse’s hoof
for a time as if searching for something. She picked at it a while longer, then
collected her tools.

All of it was wrong, Chriani knew. He felt the anger churning in
him. Recognized the particular darkness released in the act of him hating
himself.

Kathlan needed the truth. He owed her the truth.

“Thank you, squire,” was all he said as he stepped to the stable
doors and slipped outside.

He shifted into the shadows between the stables and the inn’s
dark front door, so that he was waiting for Kathlan when she emerged just
shortly behind him.

“Kath…”

“Sleep well, lord.”

“Kath, don’t do this.” Chriani caught up to her fast pace, tried
to slip in front to slow her but she was having none of it.

“Get out of my way…” Her elbow in his ribs came at full force,
his boots digging in as she drove him back in the mud.

“Then stop and talk to me…”

“I can’t talk when you’ve got nothing to say, Chriani.”

“That’s not fair. I’ve got things I can’t say because I’m under
orders, and I don’t know what you want…”

“I want the truth!”

She stopped dead in the faint light from the inn’s front windows.
Chriani checked that well-fogged glass, scanned the shadows around them. No one
there.

Kathlan’s hands were locked to her side, one of them still
holding her awl. Chriani fought the urge to step close to her, fairly certain
how that would end.

“In the throne room…” Kathlan stumbled with the words, as if she
was trying to sort them as she spoke. “You told the prince that you came to
Rheran because Captain Rhuddry didn’t believe Milyan about what happened with
the Valnirata. Only you decided you were going to Rheran that night before you
ever talked to Rhuddry or set eyes on Milyan’s reports.”

Chriani felt a chill settle in his heart. He tried to force his
mind back to the events of that meeting with the prince, to remember exactly
what he’d said. It was all shadow now, though. Too many lies told that night.
Too many lies since.

“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 certain 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.

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