Traitors' Gate (114 page)

“It's beyond reckless to try crossing that river at night.” He sought and found a hip, his hand urging her closer. “We'll go back to camp, wait it out among the reeves. And then tomorrow—or again tonight, if you insist—”

She twisted out of his grasp and rose. “I'm going now. Come with me.”

“You'll get to Olossi faster if you go with me at dawn. I admit, I have doubts about Anji, about the way he's taken control of so many aspects of this campaign. But we must take this discussion in front of the councils. Indeed, I have to. For if I seem to have run, bolted under cover of night, I'll lose what little authority I've worked to build. They'll call me a coward. I can't—I won't—do that to the reeve halls.”

“You're a gods-rotted fool, Joss. Come with me now.”

“Not until morning—”

She loped into the night so abruptly he didn't fancy leaping up and chasing stark naked after her. The hells! Yet she was a hierodule. An assassin. She wouldn't have warned him unless there was smoke signifying fire. Not unless there was a deeper plot afoot by the Hieros to set Joss against Anji for the temple's gain. What did Ushara's temple gain out of an alliance with Anji? The same things Anji gained: order, and control.

The hells. Joss wrestled with his thoughts as he fumbled with his leathers. His hands were clumsy, as if that bout of devouring had eaten his coordination. He shook out the blanket and stumbled back to the reeve camp, where Peddonon, asleep on the blanket he'd stolen from Joss, cracked an eye for
long enough to squint at him in the light of the single sentry lantern, and mumble, “So does that bewildered expression mean you've just had the best sex of your life, or the worst?”

“My head hurts,” said Joss, and Peddonon laughed, and they settled companionably down side by side. Joss fell so hard into the pit of sleep that he was startled when the sun's light flashed him to wakefulness. He was lying on his side, facing east, the sun a glare on his eyelids.

He sat up, rubbing his mess of hair. Most of the reeves were awake. The camp was moving, shrugging the sleep off its shoulders. He got up and dusted grass off his leathers, spotted Peddonon off in the distance laughing with some soldiers, found a place to take a piss. Shook out and rolled up her blanket. Aui! That had been something. Just to think of it—never mind. He fought down the intense physical memory that washed him, and gave serious consideration to running over to the river and plunging into the shallows just to cool down.

Had she really attempted a night crossing? Could she possibly have survived?

No use walking down trails that led nowhere. The army was getting ready to move out. It was time to act like the commander of the reeve halls. He set his bone whistle to his lips, blew Scar's signal, then waved to Peddonon and set off for the awning that sheltered the command unit. The guards let him through. Anji was awake, of course, hair in its neat topknot, tabard brushed clean, and holding his sleepy son as he conferred with his chiefs and captains.

He looked around, noting Joss's approach; there wasn't a cursed hint of surprise or consternation, nothing but a pleasant smile.

“Joss. Greetings of the dawn to you. We're just discussing the day's march. We've had a day to rest and resupply. Now we've got to begin a pursuit and patrol of the countryside and road between here and Toskala. I'll need the reeves to—”

“Commander Anji. I know you need the reeves. But as commander of the reeve halls, I need to be called in at the start of any council that concerns my reeves. Especially in the current situation, when so many reeves are dealing with eagles who have
been pushed to their limit. Naturally, we've got to work together in order to deal with the remaining cohorts, but my reeves and eagles are stretched thin and now is not the time to break them.”

Anji's gesture turned into a wave toward aides waiting to one side. “Bring cordial. Or juice if you'd prefer.”

“Either is fine. My thanks.”

“I wasn't aware,” Anji continued reasonably, “that Copper Hall or Gold Hall had recognized you as commander of the reeve halls, even in a ceremonial position. I've received Copper Hall's sanction to deploy them as I see fit. But no matter. You're right to feel concern on behalf of the eagles. They're more valuable than men, are they not? Isn't it true that if a reeve dies, his eagle will simply choose a new reeve, but if an eagle dies, his reeve dies with him? Ah, here's the cordial. Will you be needing nai porridge? Rice? We've already eaten.”

Joss was aware how he must look, having slept on the ground and done much else besides although surely none of these men could suspect. Captain Arras, looking Joss over, had a frown on his face that caused Joss to brush his stubbled jaw to make sure some telltale mark hadn't been left, but there was only a stray wisp of grass.

With his free hand, Anji poured from a ceramic pot into cups, took one for himself, and let the rest be passed around. Joss drank with the others. The baby dozed, his head on his father's shoulder. Anji wasn't wearing the Qin armor today but only a thick quilted coat under his tabard. Dark circles beneath his eyes made him look drained of life and spirit, but how could he not be? Just last night he'd heard that his beloved wife had been murdered.

Aui! Could it be the news had driven him insane enough to threaten Zubaidit? Was it likely a man in the first shock of grief could even conceive of such a convoluted plan? Had Zubaidit misunderstood Anji? Could she have made it up? But that made no sense either.

Anji
was
dangerous. Like fire, he had to be contained. But at the same time, he'd done more to save the Hundred than any other person except perhaps Mai. Wasn't she the person who had persuaded him to fight in the first place?

“We're weary, and snappish,” said Joss. “As we get when we're exhausted. But Anji, someone who knows eagles and who does not fear to disagree with you to your face must always be on hand when it comes time to determine how the reeves will be deployed. Otherwise, more harm than good will come of it in the long run. Men can be pushed harder than eagles. And even men will break if pushed too hard.”

“So they will,” said Anji. “Perhaps you'd like to make an accounting of the reeves here as their eagles come in, and let me know what their status is so I know how many and at what distance I can deploy them.”

His quick capitulation surprised Joss, but he knew better than to linger over such a trifling victory. He downed a second cup of cordial and took his leave to return to his reeves. Eagles were circling overhead, waiting to be flagged down. He jogged over to the encampment, reeves tidying up, rolling up blankets, tugging on harness. The young woman from Naya Hall whistled as Joss strode in. Many laughed, while others smirked. Jests were tossed; he let them fall untouched.

“Heya! You lot. I want to talk to each one of you and see how long you've been flying since you had a decent rest, since your eagle had a real hunt. Come on. One at a time.”

When you used a decisive tone of voice, folk did tend to obey. Peddonon and Nallo he sent immediately back to Law Rock, for an easy day patrolling northward as long as it ended at Clan Hall and rest thereafter. Kesta and her flight he grounded for another entire day. The Copper Hall reeves were testier, their eagles already down and waiting to leave.

“But we want to patrol. We've gotten cursed good at raiding. We can kill off a couple of fleeing cadres. Commander Anji would—”

“I'm commander until a full council is called. You two go back to Copper Hall and let your fawkners make the judgment. She's got a croak coming on, can't you hear it? And he's been plucking his feathers. They need care, not more work. Also, you need to feed them up. Or do you want to kill them?”

They were young and feckless and eager, but that was the
one threat that always worked. They slouched away to their eagles.

Peddonon gave Joss a swift hug, then slapped his ass. “Now they're marching. See you in Toskala, Joss?”

“Tonight or tomorrow, most likely. Get out of here.”

He worked down through the other reeves from Horn Hall and Copper Hall plus the flight that had ferried oil of naya up from Olossi and afterward remained with the army.

“Your flight looks all right,” he said to the leader of the Naya Hall contingent. “But I want you to check in with the fawkners at Horn Hall before you go the rest of the way. I recommend you send a messenger to Argent Hall asking for three seven-reeve flights to be released up here and replaced each week in staggered order.”

“That's more or less Marshal Verena's orders, Commander,” said the saucy young reeve. “Our other flight is already out, meant to sit out the night—if not so appealingly as you or I did, I suppose—at Law Rock. They'll be coming downriver to meet up with the army. We expect two flights tomorrow or the next day, and then we've standing orders to return to Argent Hall.”

“I knew Verena would make a cursed good marshal. All right, then. Go on.”

Peddonon and Nallo had left. Spotting Scar, Joss flagged down the bird.

Kesta also slapped his ass. “Where
are
you going? Commander.”

“Can you two not leave your cursed hands off me?” he said, laughing as he shoved her.

“From what I heard—just secondhand, mind you—that's not what you were saying last night. She finally devoured you, eh? That hierodule we met at Law Rock?”

“You should talk.”

She laughed. “No one talks about me. That's the difference between us, eh?”

“Sheh. First I'm going to follow those two hotheaded Copper Hall reeves, make sure they go back to the hall. You know what gods-rotted idiots young men can be.”

“Just
young
men?”

Scar thumped down, talons extended, wings high, in a whuffle of dust. The raptor had set down in an open space well away from the companies packing up and moving out in ranks. A company of mounted archers wearing the beards and colors of Olo'osson men led their horses past, heading for the bridge. Scar's presence always made horses restive.

Joss jogged forward with his gear, his baton out in case Scar found the movement of the army, however well controlled, too distracting. Fortunately there was a lot of space.

He gestured with the baton as he came in, paced slowly as Scar dipped his big head to greet him. There was a smear of blood on the eagle's beak, so he'd fed, and he had a bit of weight to his lumber. Copper Hall was far enough to go today. The old bird was getting tired.

Joss checked Scar's harness and then dragged his own from its bundle and found it all tangled. He was as cursed tired as the raptor, not thinking straight. He shook it out as Scar scraped restlessly at the dirt.

“Joss! Give me a lift to Copper Hall?”

He turned. The rising sun behind him, Anji approached Joss across the dusty field from the direction of the reeve encampment. He had the clipped, brisk stride of a man who knew where he was going. Two Qin guardsmen flanked him. Joss squinted, stepping to one side, shading his eyes. Qin riders, a hundred or more horsemen, clattered up in his wake, veering off to the left to avoid the Olo'osson company getting its horses calmed down. Which they would have a cursed easier time doing if they would just move off away from Scar.

“Heya! Anji!” At least he wasn't carrying the baby. “Slow down, stand back, and wait until I flag you in so Scar knows—”

Anji was coming in fast, too fast, hand on the hilt of his sword in the way the Qin often had, a posture of readiness but that looked a hells much too aggressive from the perspective of a weary old raptor. Scar opened his wings, tail fanning. As big as he was, when he flared he looked twice the size. And yet Anji picked up his pace. With the sun behind him, he was
more undefined sharp movement than an actual familiar person who'd flown before with Scar.

“Stand back!” shouted Joss, fumbling with his harness.

Maybe it was the way Anji turned his body, the angle of his torso, the gesture visible like the taunting display of a competing eagle as he slipped his sword half out of its scabbard.

Scar struck toward the captain, accidentally knocking Joss over as he lunged talons forward. But the sun was in Scar's eyes, and the eagle was tired. Anji dove and rolled and by the time he was back up on his feet it was too late.

Men's shouts rolled like thunder, and the hissing rains fell. Only it wasn't rain. It was arrows. A hundred—or a thousand, for they fell so hard and so fast—flying in defense of the man who commanded them. Scar was on the ground defending his reeve. He didn't have a chance.

Therefore, neither did Joss.

The sun splintered into shards that pierced his eyes and his flesh. The world turned to gold. The sun rose as darkness devoured him.

T
WENTY DAYS AFTER
the battle at Skerru, Tohon told Shai that Mai was dead and then left him alone to weep. How could it have happened that he walked into danger but sweet, generous Mai was the one who died?

The next day, the Qin scout hired a wagon and supplies in Nessumara and found them a place in the first caravan headed over the plain of Istria to Horn. No one had much to sell; it was more the principle of the thing, brave souls wanting to test the new security on the roads. After all, a caravan had gone north to Toskala and returned without harm, although there'd been one scare with a cadre of scruffy men who, it had turned out, were farmers driven by starvation out of hiding. They hadn't even known that Lord Radas's army had been defeated at
Skerru. Now, of course, those farmers as well as everyone else had regained their freedom to trade where they wanted and to move between markets and through open countryside once infested by bandits and scoured by an army whose soldiers wore a cheap star beaten out of tin whose leaders had promised them life but led them to death.

The Qin scout rode, switching off between a quartet of scruffy little steppe horses. Besides the four guards, only Tohon had horses. Half the Hundred, the merchants noted, had been cleaned out of riding horses for the army; these days, only soldiers rode, a fair exchange when you thought about it.