Chapter Nine
Romik squinted at Daen the following morning as they ventured out the back door of the tavern toward the meadow where the rest of the caravan had spent the night. The ex-Forester had returned to their single room late, long after Aelys had fallen into a restless sleep. Daen had reeked of alcohol as he stumbled into the room. It had taken Romik and Vil both to maneuver his lanky, wide-shouldered body quietly to the bedroll they’d spread in the corner, but eventually, they’d gotten him settled to sleep it off. That left Romik and Vil to sit the watches between them, with each taking half the night to sleep in the remaining bed.
Not that his growly arse has the decency to thank his brothers for covering him. Exasperation and affection colored Romik’s thoughts in equal measures. I know he’s been struggling, but we’re back on the road now. Daen had better get his head straight if we’re to protect Aelys all the way to Cievers without being detected.
He turned his head to run his eyes over their Bella’s slim form. She held her cloak wrapped close against the morning chill that lingered here, this close to the mountains. From what he could see, she moved well, no evidence of soreness or injury from the previous day’s exertions. But she held her shoulders stiffly and kept her eyes resolutely on the meadow.
No wonder, with what Daen said to her yesterday, Romik thought, glancing back behind himself at his brother’s pale, green-tinged face. Of course, Romik thought with a twist of self-deprecating humor hovering on his lips. He’s not twenty years old anymore. None of us are. I hope Vil brought that up with him…but then, hope is a lie, isn’t it?
On impulse, Romik slowed and turned to the right to meet his dark brother’s eyes. Vil wore his hood, but Romik could just catch the barest suggestion of his expression as he lifted his eyebrows in inquiry.
Romik jerked his head briefly toward Daen, then raised his own eyebrows. “What did you say to him last night?” He whispered the words so softly that even he could barely hear them. But that didn’t matter. Vil would hear him. The tiny, red line Vil had cut under his sleeve that morning burned as Romik thought about it.
Vil’s lips twisted in a brief scowl, and his cloak-covered shoulders lifted in a minute shrug. He turned slowly to look at Daen, then at Aelys, and then back at Romik.
I think that means he’ll tell me later, when we’re not in front of them. Fair enough. Red Lady bleed me dry, but I hate this! We should be a team, not keeping secrets and conversations from one another!
These ruminations brought them as far as the edge of the meadow, where the wagonmaster approached them with a welcoming nod.
“First light,” the man said, his words puffing clouds into the chill air of a mountain morning. “Glad to see. Did ye rest well, Lady?”
“I’m not a lady,” Aelys murmured, and Romik could hear the soft smile in her words. “Just an herbalist, but yes. Thank you for the suggestion about the tavern. I’m capable of sleeping rough, and have done it before, but I’m not too proud to say I vastly prefer a bed when one is to be had.”
The wagonmaster smiled back, his eyes nearly disappearing into the web of wrinkles that wreathed his weathered face.
“Eh. No shame in that. I prefer a bed meself,” the wagonmaster said gently. “S’why the older I get, the shorter the routes I’ll take. Time was, I’d run caravans for Gormren all the way down to Zandrine and Ioletta. Or all the way to the capitol in Zayara. No more, though. More’n ten days on the road and these old bones ache far too much!”
“You’ve been to Zandrine?” Romik kept his voice casual, even as his heartbeat accelerated.
The wagonmaster turned to look at him, and for the first time, Romik saw recognition in the man’s eyes. “Aye, Demon. And I saw ye fight. Paid two Munis for the privilege of watching ye and yer fellows face off against a fog cat and pack of jackeenas.”
Romik’s eyebrows went up. “The fog cat, eh? I remember that bout. Damned thing nearly got me from behind after we put the jackeenas down.”
“Not surprised,” Daen put in, coming up beside Romik. His voice sounded rough, but his words were clear. “Fog cats are deadly. Stealthiest predator in the forest. How did you end up taking it?”
“It wasn’t easy.” Romik felt his eyes go distant as memory rose up in his mind. “They’re so stealthy because they use camouflage. It’s like they warp the air around themselves so that your vision just bends around them. I barely even saw the damn thing. I just saw a heat shimmer as it moved around the edge of the arena, picking off fighters and jackeenas one by one.”
“They warp the air…do they use magic?” Aelys asked, her brows drawing together in a frown. “I know there are some species that do, on a sort of instinctive level. There used to be more, but mages used to hunt them extensively, hoping some part of their carcass would hold the key to accessing more power. Many magical beasts have gone extinct.”
“The fog cats aren’t far from it,” Daen put in. “Between their scarcity and how dangerous they would be to capture, I’m surprised the arena got their hands on one.”
“They didn’t have many,” Romik said. “I heard once they were a right pain to keep alive in captivity. Lions were much more common. They tended to give a better show, too. Messier kills.”
“That’s horrible,” Aelys whispered. “‘Messier kills’?”
Romik shrugged, letting his lips twist in a dry smile. “Entertaining the crowd is the whole point of arena games, Bel—Aelys. They don’t call it ‘blood sport’ for nothing.”
Aelys blinked, her blue eyes wide with horror. Romik let his smile widen briefly, hoping it looked comforting. Though with his scarred, craggy face, he rather doubted it. Still, he felt honor bound to try.
“I’m glad you’re out of there,” she said after a brief moment.
“Me too,” he said, letting his smile grow still more. Then he turned to the wagonmaster. “But that brings up a point, if you don’t mind,” he said. “We contracted with Sabetha and Gormren to travel with your train for security, and it seems wise to keep my identity somewhat private if we can.”
“Aye,” the wagonmaster said. “Herself and Gormren each had a word with me on that subject. I know who ye are…all of ye, because Gormren knows I’m not one to allow unknowns in my train.” He looked significantly at Aelys, then met Romik’s eyes. “But a man as has been on the road as long as I have knows the value of discretion. Ye’ll not hear me say a word to anyone.”
“It’s in your best interest that we don’t,” Vil said softly, speaking for the first time. He stood slightly behind the wagonmaster’s right shoulder, and his voice carried the promise of violent retribution.
The wagonmaster stiffened. “Gormren and Sabetha vouched for ye, so I’ll not take offense, but I don’t appreciate threats.”
“It wasn’t a threat,” Vil said. “It was a fact.”
“Go easy, Vil,” Romik said. Next to him, Aelys silently reached out and gripped Vil’s hand. Romik saw his dark brother go still, his face shadowed in his deep hood. “Sabetha and Gormren vouched for you, too, Wagonmaster. We’re grateful to be part of your company.”
“Well, then,” the wagonmaster said. “My name is Nerda. We’ll be moving here in just a few more minutes. There’s food at the cookwagon, all included. Best head there now, though.”
“Thank you, Nerda,” Romik said with a nod of respect as the man walked away. Then he turned and looked around at his group. Aelys stood between him and Vil, her hand still wrapped in Vil’s black-gloved one. She looked resolute, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin as if to say that she was ready to get started.
On Romik’s other side, Daen shifted from one foot to another as the morning breeze picked up and ruffled his dark hair. His brows still pinched together, and his pale complexion spoke of his lingering hangover, but otherwise, he seemed all right.
Across from Romik, Vil lurked within the darkness of his hood, his hand still clasping Aelys’s.
“Vil, stay beside Aelys today,” Romik said, “Daen and I will be close, but you’re on her all day.”
Vil nodded, and unless Romik was mistaken, his black-gloved fingers tightened around Aelys’s.
Romik reached out and clapped Daen on one of his massive shoulders. “Right, then, let’s go get some breakfast before we start moving.”
Breakfast turned out to be thin strips of meat fried to crispness and served with fresh, hot flatbread. The cook growled at Romik that they were cutting it fine, but he fed them all and smiled kindly at Aelys when she offered to help him clean up.
“Now, demoiselle, I’m paid to cook, serve, and clean up for this company. This is my work, and I’ll not be shifting it to others. No more than you’d allow any of us to help with your wisewomaning.” His tone was gruff, but his eyes twinkled enough that Romik shared a glance with Vil.
Aelys laughed. “Funny thing about that,” she said with a smile. “You can ask my…guards. I’m forever having them fetch and carry for me when I’m working with a patient. But I can appreciate your position, sir. Thank you for the delicious breakfast. I look forward to more of your fine cooking in the future.” She laid one of her hands gently on the man’s arm, and Romik saw the old cook flush red under his snowy beard for just a moment before he turned away with more grumbles.
Daen, too, sneered and opened his mouth, but Vil snapped his head in Daen’s direction, and their ex-Forester brother remained silent. Instead, he turned on his heel and stalked away, flexing his fingers as he went.
“He’ll be all right,” Romik offered. “Daen drank a bit more than was wise last night and is feeling the effects today. He’ll sweat it out as soon as we get moving.”
“I could make him something,” Aelys offered, her voice tentative. Vil reached down and recaptured her hand.
“Let him sweat,” Vil said. “Keep your herbs for a real need.”
Romik shrugged but then nodded. Aelys bit her bottom lip, and then nodded resolutely as well, though her eyes remained large and troubled.
“Where will you be today?” Romik asked Vil, eager to change the subject away from Daen.
“Center wagon,” Vil said. “It’s the most defensible position if we get attacked.”
Romik nodded. “I’ll be close by. Daen too.” As soon as he said the words, he realized he was repeating himself from earlier, and so he closed his mouth and rolled his shoulders. “Looks like we’re starting to move. Let’s go find that center wagon, then.”
As with the previous day, the road today tended to slope downhill, though the terrain varied considerably. Still, Romik could tell that they were descending more often than not, as the road wound through the trees and farmlands lining the Zetsi river. Here and there, Romik caught sight of small villages like the ones Sabetha had sent them to. Though, as the day wound on, he saw less of them the further they got from Mageford.
It was pretty country. And the fact that they traveled an imperial road meant that every so often they’d encounter farmstands selling fresh summer produce and eggs. Or occasionally baked goods. Once, a bored-looking woman leaned her elbows on the table and called out to them to come sample her finest local beer and wine.
Daen looked quickly away from her, Romik noticed with an inward chuckle.
By the time the sun slanted between the peaks to their west, Romik felt tired and mildly footsore, but mostly in a good way. His mercenary past meant he was used to marching long distances, but it was always a relief to stop at the end of the day. So, he felt a surge of satisfaction as Nerda’s whistle echoed back to them, and one by one the wagons angled off the road and into the empty meadow off to the side.
“Nerda must know this route very well,” Aelys was saying to Vil as they followed their designated wagon off the road’s shoulder and through the meadow. “Otherwise, how else would he know that this particular meadow had been used by others for camping? Look, there must be twenty fire circles here!”
Romik huffed a small smile. “I believe Nerda does know this route well,” he said. “But anyone who travels this road would know this campsite is here. It’s part of the imperial highway.”
Aelys frowned up at him. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“All imperial highways have sites like these,” Vil said next to her. “We stopped at one last night, you just didn’t realize it.”
“I thought we stopped there because of the livery stable and the tavern,” Aelys said.
“We likely did,” Romik said. “But they were almost certainly built there specifically because that’s the last imperial campsite on the highway before Mageford. The empire’s internal commerce relies on wagon trains like this one for trade between cities and noble estates. Stopping points like this are essential, and you’re almost guaranteed to find tired, hungry customers there at night.”
“Which is why they’re like a beacon for bandits,” Daen said darkly from behind Aelys. She spun with a gasp, putting her hand up to her lips as she saw him standing there, imitating Vil with his hood up and shadowing his scowl.
“Which is why Sabetha hired a full complement of guards for this shipment,” Romik shot back. “As does any merchant worth their salt. Otherwise, Daen is right. If we were traveling alone, we wouldn’t stay at one of these.”
“Oh,” Aelys said. “I—I never knew. When we traveled from the Lyceum to Myara’s mother’s house, we usually just stopped in one of the towns along the way and stayed at the best inn.”
“No towns out here,” Daen growled, but Romik could hear the barest whisper of relief under his words.
“So I see—”
“Enough discussion,” Vil said, cutting Aelys off. “Where are we setting up?”
Romik looked around and pointed to a stone fire circle off to the side that appeared unclaimed. At some point in the past, some enterprising traveler had pulled several thick trunks over to create a bit of a low wall at the edge of the cleared area behind the ring. The result was a spot too narrow for the wagons. But it looked like it would work fine for the four of them. He pointed to it and looked at Daen, raising his eyebrows in inquiry. Daen shrugged but nodded.
“Right,” Romik said. “Daen and I will get a fire going and get our bedrolls set up. Aelys and Vil—”
“Get water,” Aelys said, a small smile hovering about her lips. “I remember.”
Romik nodded, and together, the four of them turned to begin setting up their camp.