The Traitor’s Ruin

by Erin Beaty

  The spot suggested by Sergeant Starkey wasn’t difficult to find. An almost-clear slope rose up from the river to a flat plain large enough to build a training ground and hold group exercises. It would also be visible from a significant distance. If the Casmuni crossed the river again, they would do it knowing what waited on the other side.

  He and Cass returned around midnight, and Alex was up again before dawn, itching to finally begin his mission. The weight of what he carried in his jacket was also a constant reminder of a particular task he had that day. All the tension made him short-tempered, and he struggled to keep from shouting orders.

  Sage ignored him as she readied her gear, which was really as he deserved, seeing he’d barely said ten words to her until yesterday. She probably thought he’d forgotten what today was, and over the course of the morning, Alex never had an opportunity to correct that. Or, in his cowardice, he never made the opportunity.

  They were on the move within an hour, and the goal was to reach the campsite by dusk. The men were fresh from their day of rest, so between that and following a major path, they made good time. They reached their destination as the sun set.

  Tents started going up to shelter them from the cool wind flowing along the river from the mountains. Alex ordered Sage’s set up before his, and it was ready before she was done brushing down and caring for Shadow. When everything was finally settled for the night, he still hadn’t had a chance to speak with her. Alex stood outside her tent, watching the silhouette made by a single candle inside.

  It was now or never.

  Alex took a deep breath and opened the flap to duck inside. He’d given Sage a tent large enough to stand in—an officer’s tent—with a cot and a chair and table. She sat at it now, writing what looked like a letter, and when he entered, he brought a breeze that nearly extinguished her light. Sage cupped her hand around the flame to protect it and glanced up, annoyed. Her eyes widened as she recognized him.

  It was suddenly like the night they’d met, when he’d brought her supper as she worked in the library of Galarick. When he’d been disguised as a common soldier. Alex hesitated before taking another step. Only then did he remember he should’ve asked before coming inside.

  “Why are you still up?” he asked, inching closer. “You must be exhausted.”

  Sage went back to her writing. “I have a lot to do, and very little could be done while on horseback.”

  He stopped on the opposite side of the table. “We’ll be setting up everything tomorrow, so Nicholas won’t have time for lessons yet. You can relax and recover from the journey.”

  “I’m fine, sir.”

  He stiffened. “You don’t have to call me that when we’re alone.”

  “My apologies. It’s such a rare occurrence.” Her quill scratched across the paper.

  Alex said nothing but tapped his fingers gently on the wood.

  “Do you need something?” She still wouldn’t look up.

  Alex cleared his throat. “I have something for you. A present.”

  Her quill stopped, and he heard her catch her breath. He pulled the cloth-wrapped object from his jacket. “I was going to give it to you in Tennegol before I left, but since you came, I decided to wait for your actual birthday.” Alex laid it on the table between them, and she hesitated before reaching out to pull the cloth away, revealing a sheathed dagger. “I had it made for you,” he whispered. “Months ago.”

  The dagger’s black-and-gold hilt was almost identical to the one she carried, the one Alex’s mother had gifted him when he left home for page training. He’d given it to her last spring for protection, but also because any of his men would have recognized it with its inlaid letters AQ.

  Sage tilted the handle to see the initials in the candlelight. SF. “There’s no Q,” she said.

  Alex nodded. “I had them leave room for it, if you want to add it later, or…”

  “In case I change my mind?” She raised her eyes.

  He felt the blood drain from his face. There was a flash of guilt in her gray eyes, and she looked down. “I guess this means you want yours back.” She reached for the knife at her belt.

  “No,” he said quickly.

  She unhooked it anyway and held it next to the new one. “I suppose it’s too small for you anymore,” she said.

  “Even if it wasn’t, I gave that to you to keep. I want you to have it.”

  Sage pursed her lips. “Will you teach me to fight with two knives, then?”

  Alex flushed. “Given the way our last lesson ended, that’s not a good idea right now.” It had been the night he finally admitted to himself how much she meant to him. His internal defenses suddenly breached, Alex had been unprepared to resist the desires that swept over him, and within minutes he’d been ready to throw everything away for what he wanted. Then she’d called him Ash and brought him to his senses.

  “No,” she said. “You wouldn’t want to say anything you’d regret later.”

  “I don’t regret anything about that night.”

  Sage blinked at the daggers, silently tracing the initials on both with her thumbs.

  “Well,” Alex said finally. “Happy birthday.” He turned to go.

  She dropped the knives and jumped to her feet. “Wait.”

  Alex eyed Sage warily as she came around the table to stand in front of him. She held out her hands, palms down, in the royal gesture of gratitude she must have picked up from living at the palace. Without thinking, he reached back.

  “Thank you,” she said softly, squeezing his fingers.

  He held on longer than he should have, then pulled her a half step closer. Sweet Spirit, she smelled good. He’d forgotten how good until yesterday morning, when he’d stepped up to help her, and every rational thought had vanished at her touch.

  Just like now.

  The color of her hair had already lightened a few shades from two weeks outdoors. Her skin, too, was sun-kissed, and more freckled than ever. Alex released her fingers and slowly raised a hand to brush hair from her eyes. Once he’d gotten over the shock of that first day, he kind of liked the way it looked.

  “Is there anything else you wanted?” Alex whispered. Ask me to kiss you, he begged silently.

  Her mouth twisted up a little on one side. “For my birthday or in general?”

  “Either.” His fingers closed on a few strands of her hair. Ask me to kiss you.

  Sage shook her head. “I can’t have what I want.”

  “Maybe you can tonight.” He leaned forward to close the gap between them. Ask me to kiss you.

  “Cass told me you didn’t want anyone here to know about us.” Her voice was suddenly bitter.

  Alex froze, his mouth only inches from hers. “That’s for your reputation more than mine,” he said. “I’m not ashamed of you.”

  The heat of her hand left his. “You can’t have it both ways, Alex.”

  It wasn’t fair of him to do this to her. He couldn’t make the rules and disregard them whenever he felt like it. Alex took a step back. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  He turned away and pushed out of the tent, but not before hearing her whisper, “Me, too.”

  25

  REVEILLE WOKE HER from a restless sleep. Everyone was assembling on the flat and clear area for morning drills. Sage rolled from her cot and stretched. Back in Tennegol she went to the tilting yards nearly every day, and she rather missed it. Why not join in here?

  After throwing on an overtunic and yanking on her boots, Sage jogged to the exercise area and took a place in the back. The morning calisthenics were brutal on the muscles sore from riding but only made her determined to participate from then on. When the routine ended, Lieutenant Casseck announced everyone was to line up and fill sandbags needed to build the training ground. Sage had written her first report for the queen last night and had nothing else to do, so she saw no reason not to help. Alex—and everyone else—ought to see she was willing to do whatever work needed to be done
.

  Three hours later, Sage was more sweaty and filthy than she’d ever been in her life. Everyone began straggling to the river to clean up. Sage took a few steps downhill, but then shirts began coming off, and she hesitated. Soon all the men passing her were shedding clothes. She heard a belt buckle being worked a second before she caught sight of the first bare bottom plunging into the river.

  Face flaming, Sage ran back to her tent and stayed there for a full hour. How was she supposed to get clean herself? Would she have to bathe in the river fully clothed?

  A sloshing sound made her look up, and she peeked out of the tent to see Nicholas setting two wooden buckets of water just outside. She called her thanks to his back and brought them inside, then scrubbed herself thoroughly with the water from one, trying not to get the ground wet. If this was how it was going to be, she’d have to think of something to prevent mud. The second bucket she used to rinse her clothes. When she finally felt it was safe to come out, she wrung the water from her tunic and undershirt and hung them to dry on the line outside. Her underclothes she left spread on her cot.

  She was separated from the row of officers’ tents by a larger, peaked canvas structure. Sage wasn’t sure it could be called a “tent” as the sides were either nonexistent or rolled up. It must be for large assemblies and noncombat instruction, such as Tanner’s lecture on battlefield medicine scheduled for that evening. With a start she realized the long table inside was too heavy and bulky to have been carried on the journey. Puzzled, she went to inspect it. The top was fairly flat, but the bottom was much rougher. The sawdust and shavings on the ground coupled with the earthy scent of wood hewn before drying told her it had been made. This morning.

  Lieutenant Tanner approached with a nod of greeting. “How are you settling in, Mistress Sage?”

  She stood straight and rapped her knuckles on the wood. “When did this happen?”

  The scars on Tanner’s face pulled one eyebrow so they didn’t quite rise evenly. “You didn’t hear the work this morning? I called out them with carpenter and tree-felling experience, and they did this instead of bagging sand.”

  “Impressive,” Sage said, meaning it. “Is this where you’ll teach bone-setting tonight?”

  “This is the place,” he answered. “And I was supposed to, but Captain Quinn wants me to scout with him tonight, which is why I came to find you. He suggested you’d be willing to talk about foraging and edible plants instead.”

  Alex wanted her to do something. Was he asking as an apology for last night or just offering her a way to occupy her time? Either way, after all the odd looks she’d gotten on this journey, she was eager to show the soldiers she had something to offer. “Of course, Lieutenant. I’d be happy to.”

  Tanner smiled as crookedly as he’d quirked his eyebrows. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  When Tanner was gone, Sage realized she should’ve asked him more about where he and Alex were going. She’d work the question into a conversation later.

  In any case, if she was going to give a lesson tonight, it would be better with examples of plants rather than just descriptions or drawings. The sun was almost at its peak so there was no time to lose. Sage went back to her tent and dumped her pack out onto her cot, then settled it over her shoulders. Her stomach growled as she stepped outside again, reminding her she’d not eaten in hours, so she headed to one of the supply tents first. A few minutes later she entered the woods, an apple in one hand and a hunk of dried venison in the other.

  26

  NO ONE HAD seen her for an hour. Alex prowled around the camp, getting more anxious with every second that passed. Finally he barged into her tent, searching for a clue as to where she’d gone. A stack of books lay on her desk, including what looked like a journal. Several outfits and personal items sat in a pile on one end of her cot, while some very personal items were spread out to dry on the other. Alex flushed and focused on making sense of the stack of clothing.

  She’d emptied and taken her bag.

  She was going to get something. It must have been urgent. Then he remembered he’d told Tanner to ask if she’d take his place in tonight’s lecture so he could scout with Alex. Even if Sage was angry with him, it was safe to assume she’d agree.

  Shit. She’d left camp to collect edible and poisonous plants. His left arm ached as he clenched his fists. Dammit, Sage.

  He was already wearing his sword—he felt naked without it—but he’d need more than that. Things were still being unpacked and sorted, and it took several precious minutes to locate the crossbows. Alex slung one over his shoulder and walked the perimeter of the camp, looking at the ground. She was so lightweight he almost missed her footprints heading into the woods.

  Her path wandered quite a bit but went steadily north. It was a good quarter hour before he became fully accustomed to the faint signs she left behind. He was used to tracking much heavier men and beasts. Often the only trace was the fresh divot where a cluster of mushrooms or another plant had been pulled up. Once he found an apple core she’d tossed several feet from her trail.

  After about two miles he found several strands of light-brown hair draped over the branch of a low bush. How had that happened? Was she crawling? He crouched down to peer at them, puzzled. It almost looked as if they’d been laid there.

  A twig snapped, and Alex jumped up, swinging the crossbow around. Sage stood about twenty feet away, watching him. Relief spread through his chest. She was safe.

  The two ends of a broken stick were in her hands. “You’re dead,” she said coolly.

  She’d set a trap for him and gotten close enough to have done serious damage before he could react. Alex dropped the bow, more impressed than he wanted to be. Sage tossed the pieces of twig aside. “You look lost,” she said.

  “No more than you,” he replied. Only then did he realize how thirsty he was, and he’d neglected to bring along a canteen. He’d dropped every responsibility to himself and the Norsari to find her.

  She walked past him, headed north again. “I’m heading for the lake.”

  Alex took a few running steps to catch up. “How do you know there’s a lake this way?”

  Sage jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “I saw a furlong eagle’s nest about a half mile ago. They nest close to water, hence the name.”

  “That’s much farther than a furlong.”

  “I didn’t name it,” she said, staring straight ahead. “But anyway, they usually stay within a mile, especially during hatching season.”

  Alex frowned. “How do you know the direction?”

  She finally turned her face up to look at him. “Because I saw the eagle fly over with a fish in its talons. Big fish, too, so it’s a decent-sized lake.” She smirked. “Honestly, Captain, you soldiers should look up as often as you look down. You walked right under me.”

  That was where she’d been—in a tree, after effortlessly leading him on a chase for over a mile. Part of him wanted to turn her loose and see how many Norsari could track her down, but that was far too risky. “You shouldn’t be in the woods alone,” he said. Sage snorted, and he grabbed her arm to make her stop. “Have you forgotten how dangerous it is out here?”

  “What are you talking about?” Her forehead wrinkled.

  She didn’t know about the Casmuni. It wasn’t like he could tell her, either. Alex searched for something that would serve as an excuse. “Remember that boar the Ranger squad had? They roam all over this region. Don’t tell me you don’t know how aggressive they are this time of year.”

  “I haven’t seen signs of any.” She looked dubious.

  “That doesn’t mean you won’t run into signs in five minutes,” he insisted.

  Sage shrugged and turned away. “I can take care of myself. But in any case, you’re here now. Keep an eye out.”

  “That’s not all,” he called to her back. “You left the camp without telling anyone. No one knew where you were or why you left. You’re part of an army unit now; you can’t just wander of
f whenever you feel like it. Do you know how much time I lost looking for you?”

  Sage stopped and lowered her head. “I’m sorry,” she said to the ground at her feet. “I wasn’t thinking. I only wanted to be ready for tonight. I’m not used to keeping you informed.” She took a deep breath. “I won’t do it again.”

  Her apology was genuine, and he could tell she realized how in the wrong her actions had been. It took everything he had not to pull her into his arms and tell her it was all right, he was just glad she was safe. If he did, though, more than kissing was likely to start.

  “Come on,” he said instead. “Let’s find that lake and then head back. I’m parched.”

  27

  THE SHORT DISTANCE to the lake was silent, as was the walk back to camp. Sage felt guilty at how much of Alex’s time she’d wasted, but that he’d come after her fully armed spoke volumes. Something was out there, and it wasn’t wild boar. Coupled with Corporal Wilder’s information, it wasn’t hard to make theories.

  Alex fully expected to run into Casmuni—in Demora—yet no one else knew anything about it, except maybe Ash Carter, and he was gone. Was Alex supposed to meet with them? That might explain the secrecy and Ambassador Gramwell’s involvement, but if so, Alex obviously didn’t trust them.

  Sage made herself two promises: she would double her efforts in her translation project, and she’d continue training in combat while she was here. The second might be tricky—all the recruited soldiers were far beyond her in both strength and skill. She’d probably be stuck with the squires, but it was better than nothing.

  The lecture on edible and poisonous plants went well, and she didn’t even have to ask Alex if she could teach more—he’d already added her to the schedule. When she started Nicholas’s lessons, she included the other squires as often as possible, both for their benefit and to create a little competition to get the prince to put in more than a nominal effort. Sage quickly fell into a routine of teaching and training, becoming a camp authority in the classroom and everyone’s adopted little sister in the training grounds. Both roles felt comfortable. She rarely saw Alex, as he led back-to-back training patrols that often lasted two or three days. At first she thought the trips had some other purpose, but none of the men she talked to on their return described seeing anything unusual.