“I am certain he saw everything I did, Captain,” I said. “Yet Mag and I might have been able to guess more from the information.”
Mag stepped in. “Ser, we believe the Shades are making for the Sunmane Pass. If they can prevent travel through it, and if an equal force can do the same in the Moonslight Pass to the south, they will deal a devastating blow to Dorsea. It will help Wojin hold the throne, and even if he were usurped, Dorsea will be utterly unable to aid the High King against Dulmun.”
Kun’s brows shot for the tent’s ceiling. “That is quite an assumption. Do you know something of the Shades’ intentions?”
The meaning behind the question was obvious. Kun rarely missed an opportunity to needle us with the possibility that we were on the side of the enemy. I ignored it, and as Tou rolled out Yue’s smaller map atop the larger one, I pointed to the marks we had made with charcoal.
“It may be an assumption, Captain, but I believe it is a good one,” I said. “Mag was the first to think something was wrong. She was born and raised in Dorsea, and it bothered her when she saw the direction of the Shades’ march. They are headed due west, yet there is nothing valuable between here and the Greatrocks—nothing except the pass itself.”
“And two hundreds is more than enough to hold the pass and keep anyone from using it,” said Tou. “At least we think so, if the Shades have a stronghold in the Greatrocks.”
I blanched as Kun gave him a sharp look. “A stronghold? And what makes you think they have one?”
Tou paused, turning to look at me. “Well …”
I took a deep breath. “Captain Zhou. What do you know of Jordel of the family Adair?”
A long moment of silence stretched as he studied me. Tou now seemed uncomfortable, as though he regretted bringing us here. Mag’s gaze remained locked on me, studying my face. I suspected she worried for me—after all, she was one of the few who knew all the details of my time with Jordel. More details than I would share now, certainly.
But I was also keenly aware of Yue’s gaze upon me. It was only a few days since we had spoken of Jordel, though I had not named him then. Her expression was a mix of curiosity and pity.
At last, Kun spoke slowly. “I did not know Jordel. But I have heard much of him.”
“Especially since Northwood fell, if I am not mistaken,” I said.
Kun’s smile sharpened, and he lifted his chin. “What makes you say that?”
“Because I was with him in the Greatrocks,” I said. “I fought by his side when we discovered the Shades there. And I laid his cairn when he fell, and I wept at his grave.”
The air in the tent was thick enough to cut with a knife. Kun did not so much as blink, and I could read nothing in his smile.
“Hm,” he said. Another moment passed, and then his smile softened. “Well. This is all interesting information that I certainly wish I had had earlier. I wonder if I can believe it. Though if you were trying to trick me, I hardly think you would admit involvement in the death of the last Mystic captain you knew.”
For weeks now, I had kept my temper through such remarks. Kun never stopped prodding us, trying to get a reaction. And I understood why, and I forgave him for it. But now I felt my blood rush in my ears, creating a whine at the very edge of my hearing, and a terrible rage thundered in my chest.
“Captain,” I said, my voice louder than it should have been, “I will not stand idle while you speak that way. You have your jibes at Mag’s and my expense. We hear them beneath your courtesy, and we know you know it. But you will keep your needling words far from the subject of Jordel.”
Tou’s eyes were wide, and he looked as though he wanted to do something but did not know what. Meanwhile, Kun’s smile had again grown sharp and icy. “Oh, I will? Or what? What will you do if I do not comply?”
“There is no ‘or,’” I said.
“Albern,” said Mag, gently but firmly.
“No!” I barked, cutting her off. Her brows lifted, but I ignored her and turned back to Kun. “There is no ‘or.’ You will stop because you are a man of honor, and respecting Jordel’s memory is the honorable thing to do. If I were a Shade in disguise, intent on your ruin, it would still be right. If I were an assassin with designs on the High King herself, it would still be right. You will not speak ill of the dead or of—” My voice caught, but I forced myself to go on. “—Or of one who loved him. You will hold your tongue, not for fear of anything I might do, but because it is right, and because you are worthy of such restraint.”
Everything lapsed into silence again. Tou still looked ready to spring into action the instant he felt sure of what action to take. My limbs shook as anger and anxiety coursed through me together. I was prepared to fight, to flee, or to break and weep on the ground, and I could not have told you which I wanted to do most.
But Kun did not look angry. His smile had not gone, but it had eased.
“At last, some honesty,” he said quietly.
I frowned. “Ser?”
He dropped his gaze to the map and leaned over the table on clenched fists. “The two of you wrap yourselves in lies. You have since the moment I laid eyes on you. Nothing you have said to me has come without some cloak of falsehood, or a shawl of deceit at the very least. And that is fine. I do not need unshrouded honesty from everyone who serves me. But it makes me suspicious, as is my right.” He looked back up at me again, studying me close from beneath his thick black brows. “Yet now I hear you speak with truth ringing from every part of you—your tongue, your eyes, and your heart. It is refreshing.”
There was a long pause while I took this in. “Thank you, Captain,” I said at last. “So you believe me?”
“I do,” said Kun, smiling. “And your sharing of truth deserves the same in turn. I had not meant to tell you this yet, but now I wish to inform you of something Lieutenant Zhen learned in Kuan Shu.”
Lieutenant Zhen straightened suddenly, his eyes widening. “Ser—”
Kun waved him to silence with one hand. “Zhen, please. They deserve as much, now that they have laid their hearts bare, as it were.” He turned his gaze to us. “Wojin has been deposed.”
“What?” said Mag, Yue, and I at the same time.
“Yes,” said Kun, nodding. “Reports are murky as to how. But agents in the capital city of Danfon, led by other Mystics, overthrew the pretender king. Even now, he is being held captive there.”
“Then who sits the throne?” said Yue.
Kun glanced at her. “His Majesty—formerly His Excellency—Senlin of the family Fei. King Jun was, it seems, killed. That much was true in what Wojin said, if nothing else was.”
“But this is wonderful news, ser!” said Tou. “Should we not proceed to Danfon at once to help the new king stabilize his claim?”
“You forget yourself, Lieutenant,” said Kun, though his smile remained plastered on his face. “We are Mystics. Our duty is not only to Dorsea, but to the High King, and through her, to Underrealm itself.”
Tou bowed his head at once. “Of course, ser. Please accept my apology.”
“It is accepted,” said Kun. “And to answer your question: no. I do not think that Danfon is where we are most needed. King Senlin remains a loyal servant of the High King, and I have faith that he will consolidate his power in the capital and across the kingdom. But he will not be able to do so if the Shades succeed in cutting Dorsea in two by claiming the mountain passes.”
Mag’s eyes were alight. “So you believe us, then?”
Kun’s smile widened. “Yes. I believe you. Your guess as to the Shades’ intentions is better than any of mine. And knowing the lieutenant, you came up with a plan of action before you brought this to me. What is it?”
Tou glanced back and forth between Mag and me, as though he could hardly believe it. But he recovered quickly, clearing his throat. “Well, Captain. Sergeant Mag pointed out this area here.” He indicated the spot Mag had marked earlier. “A smaller, faster force could be sent ahead to circle the Sha
des, ambushing them in the Greenfrost. That could hamper their march long enough for our main host to catch up with them, wiping them out before they reach the Greatrocks.”
“Hm,” said Kun, thinking. “It would be a hard march.”
“Albern and I can serve as guides, ser,” said Mag quickly. “I know the area, and Albern’s woodcraft is unmatched—or, that is, I am sure it is comparable to Lieutenant Zhou’s.”
Kun chuckled. “You need not look after my nephew’s honor so closely, Sergeant. Very well. I will let the two of you guide this force. Lieutenant Shi, your company will march on the route they have indicated.”
“Yes, Captain,” said Tou, giving him a bow.
“And I will be coming with you,” finished Kun.
That gave all of us pause. Tou looked surprised, but Mag looked suspicious.
“Your … presence would be most welcome, of course, Captain,” said Tou slowly.
“Oh, not just mine,” said Kun. “My entire unit. All of the Mystics in our force, save those who are sergeants and lieutenants in the other companies. After all, if you intend to slow the Shades’ march, you will need the strongest fighters you can get.” He turned to Mag. “With Lieutenant Shi’s company and my unit, we shall have just over a hundred of troops. Will that let you stage an ambush that can halt our foes’ advance?”
Mag grinned. “I could do it with half that, ser.”
Kun’s eternal smile turned just as wolfish as her own.
Days later, unaware that the Shades’ position had been discovered, Kaita wrestled with weighty thoughts.
Mag had guessed correctly. The Shades, having fulfilled their purpose on the border between Dorsea and Feldemar, now made for the Sunmane Pass. Most of the western senators had not been loyal to Wojin, and they would wish now to support the new king, as soon as they could muster the armies to do it. The Shades might not be able to prevent that from happening, but they would want to delay it as long as they could.
These matters were much on Kaita’s mind. But something else also troubled her thoughts. She wore no furs against the cold—it was nothing compared to Tokana—but she still had on her cloak. She never took it off these days. And as she considered the road ahead, her hand stole into the cloak, probing an inside pocket. There sat the package of brown cloth Rogan had given her.
She could feel the magestones calling to her. Sometimes she even peeled back the edges of the cloth to look at them, as though to reassure herself of their presence. They glinted back at her, dark as the pupil of a giant’s eye.
Wild thoughts flitted through her mind whenever she looked at the stones. Rogan had never wanted to give them to her. What if he had lied? What if he had given her fakes? She should eat one, test it, just to be sure, just so that she could know—
Footsteps approached her tent. Kaita snatched her hand away from the stones as the front flap opened. Tagata entered, bent double to fit.
Tagata was a shadeborn, like Rogan. Ten and a half hands tall she stood, and her shoulders were as broad as two ordinary folk abreast. On her back she carried a massive greatsword, which was as tall as Kaita herself. But her most frightening ability was neither her strength nor the surprising speed with which she could move. It was the tattoo inked on the back of her neck, the mark of her lord’s favor. That mark could banish death itself, letting her recover from even the most grievous wound in a matter of moments.
She was a killer, born and bred and given a dark blessing. Yet, like Rogan, she was not always cruel or violent. As she entered Kaita’s tent, her eyes held nothing but fondness and concern. And as she saw Kaita resting only in her cloak, she gave a little smile.
“Are you not cold, little one?” she said. “But then, I suppose you would not be, after your days in Calentin.”
Kaita felt a flash of anger at the mention of Calentin, but it quickly subsided. She knew Tagata meant nothing by the jest, and she did not know as much of Kaita’s story as Rogan did. So she smiled in response and beckoned Tagata to sit beside her.
“I find the cold bracing,” she said. “But I am not opposed to piling on a few extra furs when I have someone with whom to share them. There are few things as pleasant as sharing warmth and comfort when the world is cold and dead.”
“I agree with you there,” said Tagata, taking the seat Kaita had offered. Their shoulders pressed together, and even through her thick cloak, Kaita could feel the warmth of Tagata’s shoulder. She was like a furnace. It was something she had noticed in all the shadeborn she had ever met, as if they burned with some inner fire that no winter could hope to douse. Kaita leaned into her, resting her head on her shoulder.
Rogan had always told her to love all the Shades like her own family. But in truth, Kaita held most of them in disdain. They were like sheep, like the very people who had made her suffer early in life. She gave her trust and love only to those who deserved it—ones like Tagata, and Rogan himself. Ones who were useful, because they were strong.
But they were also very, very clever. And even as Tagata wrapped an arm around Kaita’s shoulders, sharing more of her heat through the cloak, she glanced down at Kaita to give her a quick look-over.
“Are you well?” she said. “Is there anything you wish to speak with me about? Anything that worries you?”
Kaita sighed through her nose. “You should say what you mean. I have not taken the magestones. I gave my word to Rogan. And yet in return, he has sent me to march with you, directly away from where I wish to go.”
Tagata frowned. “We must make for the pass. If the western senators can muster—”
“I know the reasons,” snapped Kaita. She paused, took a breath, and forced herself back to calm. “Of course, this host can hardly turn around and head east. But I could. I could go on the hunt for Albern and Mag again. I have the power to end them at last.”
“You must have faith,” said Tagata. “If Rogan told you this was the right thing to do, you must trust him. He would not deceive you.”
“I trust in him, just as I trust in our father,” said Kaita irritably. “Yet what else am I supposed to think? The last I heard, Albern and Mag were to the east. Yet he sends me to march west. Does he know where they are better than I do? If so, why does he not tell me? Why not tell me where and when I shall meet them, rather than a vague promise?”
“He would never say it unless he believed it to be true,” said Tagata.
“And I wish to trust in that,” growled Kaita. “But how can I? How can he know?”
Tagata hesitated. At first, Kaita thought she had no answer. But when Tagata spoke, it was almost as if the words were being forced out of her. “He has … methods.”
Kaita drew back, feeling her arm and shoulder cool as she looked up into Tagata’s face. Tagata, meanwhile, did not meet her eyes, but looked studiously at the tent flap.
“Tagata?” said Kaita. “What do you mean?”
Tagata licked her lips, considering. “He … that is, I mean Rogan, but Father as well … they have … a sight.”
She paused. Kaita remained silent, waiting. She felt a curious certainty that Tagata should not be telling her this, and that she should not press the matter, for that might drive Tagata back to silence.
“I do not know quite how it works,” said Tagata. Now she spoke more quickly, as though cracks in a dam were widening. “But they can see things. Threads of time and fate, like the future in a tapestry.”
“No one has that power,” whispered Kaita.
“They do,” said Tagata. “I do not know how it works. I do not know where they gained it. Rogan often says that we are all equal to each other—but I cannot be his equal, for this gift is beyond me. I barely know of its existence, and I know nothing of its origin. It seems to me that it is … unclear, some of the time. Yet from what I know, it is infallible.”
“And what do you know?” said Kaita.
But Tagata shook her head. “I should not have said as much as I have. I will not speak more of this. I only tell you so t
hat you know your faith is not misplaced. If Rogan said you would achieve your aims this way, but did not explain why, then I am sure it is because he has seen it.”
Kaita wanted to ask one of the thousand questions whirling in her mind. But before she could prod Tagata to speak on, they heard shouting outside the tent.
Instantly they were on their feet, Kaita casting her cloaks and blankets aside. They threw themselves out of the tent just as a Shade came running up to them, her eyes wide, and pointed east.
“Commander!” she said to Tagata. “One of the eastern outriders has delivered a report. There is a force following us.”
“What?” snapped Tagata. “How many? How close?”
“That is unclear, commander,” said the messenger. “He saw the smoke of many campfires, but could not see the foe.”
Tagata paused for a moment, considering. But a furious excitement sparked in Kaita’s heart.
“It is them,” she said in a whisper. “It must be.”
Tagata frowned at her. “If there are many campfires, it cannot only be Mag and Albern.”
“No,” said Kaita. “Not just them. They have allied with others, other servants of the High King, to pursue me. Or to pursue us, for I doubt they know I am here. You were right. Rogan was right. I should never have doubted.”
“You can be forgiven, I think,” said Tagata. She turned back to the messenger. “Send word all through the camp. Muster for the march, and be ready to press hard. We must reach the Greatrocks before they catch us.”
“Yes, commander,” said the messenger, and she ran off to carry Tagata’s words through the camp.
“I should go east,” said Kaita.
Tagata’s eyes went wide. “No, Kaita,” she began. “You cannot—”
Kaita stopped her with a raised hand. “Be at peace. I do not mean to fight them. But I am your only weremage. Let me scout their position and estimate their number. When I am done, I will come straight back.”
Tagata did not seem entirely convinced. The giant frowned down at her. “Will you promise me?”
Kaita gave her a small smile. Not all the Shades had earned her love, but Tagata had done so long ago. “I will do better than that,” she said quietly.
The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4) Page 71