"We will go to Salishok. Your Prince Razem and whoever they replaced you with will meet us there, under flag of parlay, and I suppose you will go home a grand hero." She tipped her head to one side, watching him. "I will have someone come in tomorrow to shave you. And I will speak to the watch commander about giving you time alone in the yard. I won't have the Tamnese bureaucrats say we mistreated you."
He smirked at her. "Most kind, Commander."
Commander Ayowir was as good as her word. The next morning a barber came in and not only shaved Hawk but trimmed his hair until it was chin-length. Hawk stopped him then. He liked it long enough to pull into a stubby tail if necessary. The man sniffed and scrubbed his hair with a harsh, astringent-smelling soap, not once, but twice. Hawk's eyes watered at the strength of it, but he hoped it meant his scalp would quit crawling and itching. Apparently the commander wished to return him to Tamnen free of lice as well as any other ailments.
After the barber finished with him, Hawk was given a heartier breakfast than he'd seen since his recovery from the leg wound. And then the watch commander appeared and conducted Hawk to his appointed exercise time in the yard. Hawk wasn't sure what to make of it all, but he wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. He had done what he could to keep his muscles strong in his cell, but you could only manage so much in a small space. He centered himself in the yard and began moving through the slow forms of his discipline. When no one stopped him from that, he gradually increased his speed until no one could believe his exercise was anything other than martial in nature.
Still no one came to stop him or send him back to his cell. With a shrug, Hawk lost himself in the forms until he felt his muscles begin to shake. It took less time than he would wish, and that brought him back to himself with the grim reminder of all the strength and speed he had lost. He slowed to a stop and then began stretching so his muscles wouldn't protest as much the next day. Only when he had finished did one of the guards collect him and take him back to his cell.
His lunch was larger than he was used to as well. Hawk finished what he could, then tucked a crust of bread away for later. He spent the rest of the afternoon reading. After a supper that had actual meat in the stew, he went to bed, which was when he noticed they had swapped out the old pallet for a softer one with cleaner blankets. Hawk raised his eyebrows, but after a moment he decided they wouldn't want him picking up the lice again from his bedding. With a shrug, he went to bed.
The next several days followed the same pattern. Hawk was measured and given two extra sets of new clothes. A cobbler came to trace his feet and returned the next day with a pair of boots that was only slightly too large. One of the guards brought him a pipe and a pouch of tobacco. Another pressed a small wooden carving into his hand when she collected his supper dish.
He could understand why the Strid administrators might want to soften him towards his captors, since they had agreed to set him free. He could even see why they would want everyone to believe he had been treated well during his captivity. But he could not parse the reasons behind the guards giving him gifts. He had never been a compliant prisoner. But then again, he had also never tried to kill any of them. Perhaps that was reason enough. He lit the pipe and examined the little carved hawk. It had intricate feathers and cleverly cut wings that looked graceful without being in danger of breaking off. He had seen that guard carving when she sat outside his door, but they had rarely talked.
***
Hawk squinted up at the hot, desert sky and wondered what he was going home to. He had no family left to welcome him home. His friends had all been in the army. Were they still even alive? He couldn't expect everything to be the same as he had left it six years ago. Who would even care that Commander Hawk was home?
You're feeling sorry for yourself, he thought, giving himself a mental shake. You're old enough to know better. Gird your loins and get over it.
"Deep thoughts, Hawk? You look troubled." Commander Ayowir had come alongside him on her gray gelding. She was watching his face curiously.
They had been traveling at a relaxed pace, starting after the sun was well up and stopping for lunch. Upon reaching the more arid foothills surrounding Salishok, though, Ayowir had decided they should begin earlier in the morning so they could rest during the hottest part of the day. For the last three days of their journey, they had been up before the sun and on the march as soon as a thin line of pink warmed the eastern sky. They marched until noon and then set up tents and rested in the shade until early evening, when they packed up for another three hours of marching.
Hawk had been allowed to ride with no bonds on his wrists. He had a guard posted at his tent, though he was not bound with even an ankle shackle. If he had truly wished, he could have escaped with little effort. At this point, however, he saw no reason to escape.
He gave her a rueful smile. "This still seems less than half real. I suppose I won't believe it until I wake up in Salishok again."
Her lips curled slightly--not quite a smile, but an acknowledgement. "It's real. I'll actually sort of miss you, you know." She slanted a look at him. "You've tested my patience often enough, but I suppose I've grown used to you."
"What a heart-warming compliment." He didn't suppose it was politic to admit he liked her. The enemy was supposed to be faceless and emotionless. He couldn't see her that way, not after six years of constant exposure to her. Then again, he'd never really seen the Strid that way. He had hated them, but he had always known they were people, not faceless monsters. Didn't their blood run through his own veins? Hadn't his father been Strid?
His mother, who had been of no particular family in Tamnen, had fallen in love with a Strid tanner who lived on the outskirts of town. Hawk's father had been skilled at his craft, and he had provided well for his wife and only child, but there had been a certain divide between their family and the rest of the town. A few other children straddled the Tamnese and Strid communities in town. But the relative peace into which they had all been born had only been a shaky pause in the centuries-long hostilities; tensions had been heating up again in the decade leading up to Hawk's birth. Losing both parents in the Strid invasion when he was young had cast the divide in stone.
Still, It wasn't the Strid people he hated, but the Strid army and the king who sent that army time and again into the Kreyden District, trying to seize the diamond mines and the natural resources that by rights belonged to Tamnen. Hawk wondered if Prince Anderlin or King Harkai would be there at the prisoner exchange. He might be willing to sacrifice himself if he could take Anderlin or Harkai with him.
"Don't think about it too much," Ayowir said, her voice startling him from his memories. "We'll be there tomorrow, and you'll see for yourself it's real."
Hawk wrenched himself back to the present conversation. "I suppose I'll believe it then," he said, giving her a vague smile.
Indeed, it wasn't until the next day, when he saw the hulking brown stone walls of Salishok looming up from the foothills surrounding the Shokanda River that it truly felt this exchange would actually happen. A group of soldiers from the Tamnese Army rode out to meet them while they were still at least an hour from the city. The Tamnese exchange party had not yet arrived in Salishok, and until that happened, the Strid party must camp here. Commander Ayowir seemed unhappy about it, but not surprised.
That night, Hawk was shackled to his cot.
Chapter 4
Razem had been to Salishok once before. Three years ago, the day after his sister sailed off to marry the Amethirian prince, he had ridden for Salishok at the head of his father's army. Princes of Tamnen always proved their worth on the battlefield, and Razem had been no exception. He had taken command of the Kreyden District, headquartered out of Salishok.
He had been guided by several more experienced counselors, of course. Lord-General Kho had not accompanied him to Salishok last time; he had had his hands full in the capital. But Baron Arkad, whose ancestral home was in the Kreyden northeast of Salishok, had been
on hand to advise him. And Colonel Tropas, an officer with ten years in the Kreyden, had been his second-in-command. Tropas had taken over as the district commander after Razem's triumphant homecoming to the capital.
He was very much dreading his return to the Embattled City.
Salishok had been on the front edge of the war with Strid fifteen years ago. Over the years, however, the Tamnese army had pushed the Strid back forty miles from the city walls. It meant the city was not literally besieged, but there was the constant threat of it. Food was strictly rationed to maintain a six-month supply in the crown storehouses. The Salishok Reservoir was guarded day and night to prevent sabotage or poisoning of the water supply. Trade caravans were accompanied by army detachments, rather than the mercenary caravan guards that plied their trade further north away from the district.
As a consequence of the tense situation, when Razem, Arisanat, Emran Kho, and their soldiers traveled to Salishok, they took with them a long, winding caravan of merchant wagons. The merchants slowed them, of course. Veteran soldiers could easily march twenty miles a day, but the gargantuan horses pulling the merchant wagons could not be pushed, and Kho had advised letting the horses graze at least an hour each day to supplement the supply they had brought with them.
"The more we conserve on feed, the more they'll have to sell when we reach Salishok, and that earns you a great deal of currency in the current political situation there." Kho was riding next to him on an immense black gelding, his eyes constantly roving across the ranks of soldiers and to the dry plains beyond.
Razem knew better than to utter what he was thinking. I'm the crown prince. I shouldn't need political currency. After assessing the situation with Arisanat and learning how much clout his cousin had gained in the council recently, Razem was reevaluating everything about the crown and how the kingdom actually worked. He had been given considerable lessons in statecraft and policy all his life, but he was finally beginning to actually understand it. Upon reflection, he rather thought Azmei had understood the situation much better three years ago than he ever had.
These new revelations didn't exactly curb his temper, but they did make him bite his tongue against quick retorts.
"I hadn't thought of that," he admitted instead. "I am grateful for your guidance, General Kho. Although I spent a year out here in the Embattled City, I never came to know all its nuances as you do."
To his pleasure, Kho smiled. "My prince flatters me."
"No, your prince speaks the truth. I am coming to understand that I have much yet to learn. I could do much worse than to learn from you, Emran."
Kho turned to study him, still smiling, though his eyes were searching Razem's. For his part, the prince tried to hide any resentment he might feel at having his ignorance on display. He wasn't at all certain he had succeeded, but he hoped Kho would at least credit him for attempting to keep a humble attitude. He lifted one shoulder in a self-deprecating shrug.
Kho laughed, a low, rich chuckle that relaxed the tense muscles in Razem's back. He hadn't realized how desperately he wanted to please Kho. He wanted peace with his cousin, of course, and he wanted to do what was required of him in Salishok, but more than either of those things, he wanted Kho to like him, to approve of him. He wanted the Lord-General of his father's army to believe Razem would one day be a king worth serving.
"I am honored that you wish to learn from me, Prince Razem." Kho held his gaze for a few moments longer, then returned to his relentless scanning of their surroundings. "I will be happy to serve in any way I can."
Razem nodded gratefully and allowed the conversation to lapse into silence.
***
The day before they reached the Salishok Plains, a courier from the city met them. She had dark circles under her eyes from riding through the night. She told them the Strid party had arrived two days ago. She had been dispatched to inform the prince's party while the Tamnese army invited the Strid to camp at least an hour's ride from the city walls.
The remainder of that day was spent in a traveling conference with Kho and Arisanat. Razem's cousin was of the opinion that the Strid party should be made to wait even longer for the prince's arrival. Kho disagreed, pointing out that the purpose of the prisoner exchange was to improve relations with Strid, not to increase the hostility.
"The crown prince of Tamnen will not bow and scrape to whatever ambassador the Strid have sent!" Arisanat said hotly. "It is not seemly, and we already do them more courtesy than they do us. We know they have not sent Prince Anderlin to make the exchange."
"Thank the gods for small mercies," Razem muttered. "Aris, I don't intend to bow and scrape, but I don't see any sense in lording things over the Strid. There is no point in embarrassing whatever lord the king has sent in place of his uncontrollable son."
"And if we receive the Strid party with more ceremony than is required," Kho added, "it will be a less obvious show of Prince Razem's position of authority. Only the man who has much has the ability to be generous."
Arisanat didn't look happy, but he managed a grudging, "Well said. I am content."
Razem nodded for Kho to set about giving the orders for a small but adequate force to be assembled for accompanying the prince's party, while the bulk of the soldiers were left behind with the merchant caravan. He waited until Kho was out of earshot before commenting, "You're not content. Nor am I. But we will make the best of this situation."
Arisanat was silent for so long Razem glanced over at him. His cousin was frowning down at his horse's mane. "I believe you are a more forgiving man than I could ever be, Razem. I still wish for Anderlin's bloody head to be hung on the Salishok city gates."
"As do I." Razem's voice was hard. "For my sister's sake as well as for Venra's. But I will bide my time yet."
"Do you truly believe Anderlin was behind the assassin who struck down Princess Azmei?" Arisanat still did not look at him. His voice was low.
"I cannot prove it. But ultimately I place the blame at his feet, even if he was not the man who paid the contract." Razem scanned their surroundings, a habit he had picked up over the past several days of riding next to Emran Kho. "We were assured the assassins had traveled to Ranarr at the same time Az did. That means they weren't hired by the Amethirians to prevent the marriage. We know the Ranarri wouldn't assassinate Azmei. They were the ones who brokered the marriage treaty."
"At your father's urging," Arisanat pointed out.
"True, but they pride themselves on being peacemakers. Murdering a princess in cold blood does not exactly strike me as an act of peace."
"A good point."
Razem sighed. "I have gone round and round in my mind over this matter, Aris. I cannot believe it was anyone other than the prince of Strid."
"There are those in our kingdom who do not wish for peace." Arisanat made a wry face. "For that matter, I am among them, as you must know."
"You've made no secret of that! But anyone who would commit such a heinous act might not speak out openly against the peace." Razem shook his head. "And what would killing Azmei accomplish, anyway? The peace might be halted temporarily. Or permanently, I suppose, if the killer convinced us Strid was responsible for the attack. But there has never been any evidence that Strid was behind it."
"Isn't it odd that Strid wouldn't claim the kill?" Arisanat asked.
"I don't know. Perhaps they realized that they had crossed a line." Razem rubbed his thumb across his fist. "Perhaps it was Anderlin acting alone, rather than on King Harkai's orders. They would have kept that quiet, were it the case."
"Perhaps." Arisanat didn't sound convinced.
"Azmei was loved by everyone. Even if someone didn't approve of the peace, most of the common folk wouldn't have the resources."
"And the nobility? The Nine may have open access to your father, but the lesser nobles have no such recourse. They would have to file a petition to see your father, and even then he would have the power to deny their request. Perhaps one of them grew impatient."
<
br /> "It can't be inexpensive to have a princess assassinated," Razem objected. "No, I cannot believe it of any of ours."
From the corner of his eye, he saw Arisanat's shoulders relax. "I am glad to hear it. I would hate to think any of us had lost your confidence."
Razem smiled. "You never could, Aris. You know I love you. For your own sake, as well as for Venra's. We have had many pleasant times together, have we not? Of all the places I have seen in our great kingdom, the hill region around Burojan Manor is my favorite."
Arisanat smiled back and reached over to clap a hand against Razem's shoulder. Though they rode in silence the rest of the morning, Razem felt a weight lifted that he had not realized he carried.
By lunch time, Kho had given all the orders necessary to separate their force in two. He explained it as they ate. When they set out again, the force that was to ride with the prince has separated itself from the merchant caravan. Razem, Kho, and Arisanat joined them, along with Duke Oler's medical wagon. They traveled at a much faster pace that afternoon. As the sun was setting, they could see the squat walls of Salishok in the distance.
Razem gave the messenger letters to carry to both the military and civilian authorities, as well as one for her superior that commended her for her service. Razem and Kho had questioned her during the afternoon about the mood in Salishok, and the prince had found her informed and well-spoken.
The next morning they rose early. Razem had his usual morning status report on Duke Oler's health--he was in good spirits now that they were within a day of their destination, but he had weakened considerably over the course of the journey. They ate breakfast on the march. Razem wanted to arrive at the city by noon. He had given orders that the Strid party should be allowed to arrive in Salishok once the prince's party was inside the gates. There would be rooms prepared for them, though they would be required to leave the majority of their soldiers outside the walls.
Stormseer (Storms in Amethir Book 3) Page 5