04c Dreams of Fire and Gods: Gods (17 page)

Do what the bitch says
, he heard Imen snarl in the back of his mind.
We’ll see what she has to show us.

T
HE
vönan
and
caedan
had given Sael and his guards no trouble on the march to the boundary. Many were elderly and all had been weakened by the weeks away from the light of Atnu, so the journey took longer than it might have, but there were no dramatic escape attempts.

The camp commander—a dour-faced old veteran named Navük—was roused from his tent in the middle of the night to see to the situation. “My lord,” he told Sael, “we don’t have a place to hold prisoners.”

“What do you do with men who disobey orders?”

“They are flogged, Your Lordship. Or executed, if the offense is serious.”

Weeks of mimicking his father when he was dealing with official business prevented Sael’s shock from registering on his face. He barely hesitated before replying, “Master Geilin will see to building an enclosure for them.”

He glanced over at Geilin in case the wizard had objections to this, but the old man merely nodded.

“As you wish, my lord,” Navük said, giving the mage an uncomfortable look. “Your men can sleep in the barracks tents. And I’ll order tents put up at the north end of the camp for His Lordship and Lady Tanum. And another for your mage.”

“Thank you, Commander.”

Sael woke unusually early, with the gray of dawn faintly illuminating the walls of his pavilion tent. Still used to sleeping late due to his illness, Sael contemplated relieving himself in the chamber pot and then going back to sleep, but he thought better of it. Sleeping until midday wouldn’t endear him to the soldiers. He did make use of the chamber pot, but then he threw on his tunic, breeches, and cloak and wandered out into the encampment.

A heavy mist blanketed the camp, making it difficult to see more than the tents immediately surround his. The only person in sight was a guard sitting by the campfire in front of the tent. The man rose immediately upon seeing Sael and saluted. “Your Lordship!”

“At ease,” Sael said. “Is it possible to get something to eat at this hour?”

“Of course, milord. I’ll have something brought to you at once.”

Sael shook his head. “I’d rather go to the mess tent. How soon will it be until they serve breakfast?”

At that, the guard looked amused. “They’ve been serving breakfast for a while, milord. Most of the men are roused before first light.”

“I see.” That would explain why he’d dreamt of someone ringing a bell. Apparently, he’d slept through
Penent
. So much for impressing the men with his self-discipline.

The guard poked his head into a small tent beside Sael’s and woke his companion to take his place guarding Sael’s tent. Then he accompanied Sael to the large mess tent. But there they encountered Lady Tanum and her guard in an argument with another soldier at the entrance.

“We would be more than happy to deliver a breakfast tray to Your Ladyship’s tent.”

“There’s no need for that,” Tanum replied patiently. “I’m certain I can find room at a table inside, if you’ll allow me to pass.”

“My Lady—”

“Sael!” Tanum called out as he approached. “Please tell this man to let me inside the mess tent so I can eat breakfast.”

The soldier looked very flustered as he bowed low to Sael. “Your Lordship!”

“What seems to be the problem?” Sael asked.

The man straightened and answered, “I’m sorry, Your Lordship, but Commander Navük left orders that the men were to be kept separated from Her Ladyship.”

No doubt the commander had imagined dire consequences if the common soldiers were allowed to… well, act as soldiers tended to behave, when in the presence of Tanum. “I’m sure the commander had nothing but Her Ladyship’s best interests at heart,” Sael told the man, “but for now I’m superseding his order. The Lady and I would like to eat in the mess tent, so please allow us to enter.”

The soldier appeared to be relieved the matter had been taken out of his hands. He bowed again and stepped aside, holding the tent flap for him and Tanum, and said, “Yes, Your Lordship! Right this way.”

Sael nodded to Tanum, who raised an eyebrow at him to show her irritation, but she gave a polite nod to the soldier before entering the tent. Sael followed her, and their two bodyguards came along behind him.

The conversation inside the tent immediately came to a halt as all faces turned toward them. They approached the long serving table, and all of the men gathered there stepped back to allow them access. The men on the other side of the table, whose job it was to dole out portions of food, bowed nervously at them and between them prepared two wooden trenchers of scrambled eggs, porridge, and chunks of heavy bread soaked in ale. From the looks on their faces, Sael guessed the quality of the food was mediocre, and they were fearful the two royals would be angered by it. To that end, when their bodyguards had carried the trenchers to an empty table—one that had been evacuated and wiped down the moment Sael and Tanum entered the tent—Sael made certain to smile and nod his appreciation once he swallowed a spoonful of the tasteless gruel.

“You are a wicked woman,” he told Tanum under his breath when conversations had resumed elsewhere in the tent, albeit at a much lower volume than before.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “You should have seen what I went through to get my guard to allow me out of my tent!” Since the guard in question was standing nearby and listening, she smiled sweetly at the man, who nodded in response.

“Perhaps it would be best for us—both of us—to take our meals in our private tents from now on, rather than disrupt Commander Navük’s camp discipline.”

“Speaking of Commander Navük…,” Tanum said, looking pointedly at the door of the tent.

Sael turned to see the commander striding toward them, looking extremely put out. He stopped by the table and bowed. “Your Lordship.”

But Sael wasn’t in the mood to get into it now. So he headed the commander off with a question. “Has transport back to Harleh been arranged for the prisoners?”

The commander looked surprised for a moment, but he straightened and replied. “Not yet, my lord. We’re short on wagons, so it’s a matter of determining what can be spared for a few days.”

“Very well. I’ll leave it in your capable hands.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

The commander looked a bit disoriented, as if he wasn’t certain how to get the conversation back on topic, so Sael said, “You may go, Commander. And please commend your cook for the excellent meal.”

Resigned, the commander bowed and said, “Yes, Your Lordship,” before leaving them to their breakfast.

As soon as he’d left the tent, Tanum was forced to hide a smile behind her hand. “Now that was wicked,” she said.

Sael noticed the two guards looked amused as well. “I’m not yet awake enough to deal with breaches of protocol—even my own. Let’s finish our meal and leave. I have things I’d like to discuss with Master… Iinyo Geilin.”

When they returned to their tents later, however, Sael’s attention was caught by something at the edge of the forest—a black horse, nearly obscured by the mist, standing motionless as if he were waiting for them.

“Has one of the camp horses slipped its bridle?” he asked the two guards. It looked to be a fine animal, and it would likely be missed by its owner. But both of the guards shrugged. “Stay here,” Sael ordered them and Tanum.

His guard seemed torn between obeying Sael and obeying his orders to stick by Sael’s side, but one stern look from the
dekan
made up his mind for him. He remained behind with Tanum and her guard.

“Hey, boy,” Sael greeted the horse gently as he approached. “Where do you belong?”

He slowly extended his hand and the horse nuzzled it. Now that it was no longer partially obscured by the mist, Sael could see it was in fact still wearing its bridle, along with a saddle.

There was something familiar about the animal, though Sael knew he’d seen a number of pure black stallions in Harleh. He doubted he’d be able to tell one from the other. The memory of Sek flashed into his mind, and he was saddened as he recalled Koreh’s affection for the horse, and the way it had been brutally cut down by arrows near Old Mat’zovya. “I used to know a brave stallion that looked a lot like you,” Sael said.

The stallion lifted its head to snuff at his face, and then slowly turned and walked away into the misty forest.

“Hold on,” Sael said, walking after him. “I can’t just let you wander around lost in the woods.”

The horse resisted his attempts to stop it, even when he snagged the bridle and tried to pull back on it. A quick glance over his shoulder showed Sael that Tanum and the two guards were trailing along after him, but it still worried him to be wandering away from the camp.

He was contemplating jumping up into the saddle to see if he could control the animal from there—although he might be in trouble if the horse bolted—when they came to a small pond. Here the horse stopped and lowered its head, as if to sniff at the tendrils of mist that drifted along the surface of the water.

Sael looked down at the still water, and his blood ran cold.

“Koreh,” he said.

O
VER
the course of the next few days, Koreh helped Seffni fill in the gaps in his memory. It was all there—his entire life’s worth of memories. Nothing seemed to have been truly lost. It was merely a matter of talking about what he did remember until they stumbled across something that triggered a new flood of recollections. Occasionally, they were forced to stop along the path so Seffni could sit quietly and sort out the chaos in his head, while Koreh gathered wood for a fire or sought out a clear stream to refill their water flasks.

As his mind recovered, so too did Seffni’s body. He grew stronger every day and walked alongside Koreh more often than he rode Sek, which the horse no doubt appreciated. His spirits lifted, and the dry sense of humor Sael had told Koreh about returned. Koreh soon discovered that much of this humor revolved around affectionately poking fun at the
vek
.

“This interminable mist is unacceptable,” Seffni said haughtily one morning, affecting a disturbingly accurate impression of Worlen’s voice and mannerisms. “Please see to it that it’s removed.”

Koreh laughed. “Where would you like me to put it?” Seffni merely raised an eyebrow at him, refusing to answer until Koreh caught on and added, “Your Grace?”

Seffni sniffed. “That is hardly my concern. Do what you will with it. Give it to the emperor. Perhaps he can use it to obscure the corruption in the royal court.”

They both snickered at that, and Seffni’s haughty demeanor dissolved into a wide grin.

“Do you know he threatened to have me thrown into the dungeon if I didn’t leave Sael?” Koreh asked. He tried to keep his voice light, but the thought of it still angered him.

Seffni gave him a rueful smile. “I don’t doubt it. And I don’t doubt he would have done it, at least for a short time. He’s not without compassion, but his first duty is to the
veikit
, followed closely by the Menaük legacy. Has he declared war on the emperor?”

“The emperor declared war on
him
,” Koreh replied. They hadn’t discussed much about the situation in Harleh following Seffni’s death, apart from him assuring the man that Tanum and Sael were both alive, as far as he knew. “Sael was made
dekan
after you were assassinated,” he went on. “Your father was with us in Harleh when the emperor’s army lay siege to the city. We managed to defeat them, with the help of….”

He stopped talking when he realized Seffni was no longer walking beside him. He turned and saw that the man had slowed his pace and was glancing back over his shoulder. When Seffni realized Koreh was watching him, he said, “I’m sorry. It’s just…. Where has your horse gone to?”

Koreh looked back and saw nothing behind them but forest and the path they’d been following. Sek was nowhere to be seen. “Sek!” he called out, though he’d never really known the horse to respond to the name he’d given it.

He walked back the way they’d come, with Seffni trailing behind him, until he noticed a side trail leading off into the forest. The earth was damp there, where it wasn’t covered in moss, and Koreh could make out fresh hoof prints in it. “Sek?” He glanced at Seffni. “Why would he suddenly wander off?”

“I have no idea. He’s your horse.”

“Technically, he’s
your
horse,” Koreh pointed out, recalling that Sek had been one of the seven horses sent from Harleh on Seffni’s orders to aid in Sael’s escape from the capital. But Seffni just shrugged. “Well, we can’t just let him wander off into a swamp,” Koreh said. “Come on!”

He led Seffni onto the path. The mist was so thick it was difficult to make out anything more than twenty feet ahead of them, and rivulets of water crisscrossed the path, forcing Koreh to step carefully. Fortunately, the path wasn’t long, and he soon found Sek resting ahead of him, as if waiting for him to catch up.