The Traitor’s Ruin Page 8

  “How long have you known Alex?” she asked finally.

  Cass answered cautiously. “Since we were ten. I arrived after he’d been in page training for a few months. He had a bit of a reputation as a fighter. Did he ever tell you that?”

  “Some,” she said. “He said he had a rough first couple of years.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Cass said dryly. “He got on the wrong side of some bad people right away, and every time new boys arrived, he’d get in a fight over how they were treated. Took a beating for me my first night.”

  “Is that how he made friends? By taking their initiation licks?” Sage tried to sound disdainful, but in truth she found it admirable. And unsurprising.

  “Pretty much, though I don’t think making friends was his goal. He was only doing what he saw as right. After a while he had a whole lot of us standing up for the new boys. Strength in numbers.” Cass smiled. “Picking on anyone involves finding their weak point. For some of us it’s more obvious than others.”

  “So what was yours?” He was thin now, and Sage had little trouble imagining a young Casseck as all elbows and knees capped with a mop of blond hair. “Were you skinny?”

  “I was, but my biggest sore spot was my first name.” He raised an eyebrow at her.

  Sage suddenly realized she didn’t know it. “It must be awful.”

  “Alex is the only one I won’t punch for saying it,” Cass said. He turned his face to gaze down the gentle slope of the valley to their left. “Bit surprised he never told you, though.”

  Sage didn’t want to think about things Alex left out. “You can tell me. I won’t laugh or tease you.”

  He didn’t look back. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

  “Now I feel challenged.” It felt good to smile.

  He sighed, his expression settling into something she couldn’t decipher. Finally he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Ethelreldregon.”

  “Merciful Spirit!” She looked away, putting a hand over her mouth.

  He waited several seconds as her shoulders twitched. “You can laugh already.”

  “I … don’t … want … to,” Sage managed in a strangled voice. A few titters escaped.

  “Yes, you do.”

  She shook her head, looking at the trees and the mountain peaks to the west, then down to the ground. Everywhere but at him. “Did your parents hate you? Is that why you ran away and joined the army?”

  “Well, even a traveling circus wouldn’t have me with that name.”

  That did it; she burst out laughing. “I’m sorry,” she gasped. “I promised I wouldn’t!”

  “Don’t fret, I knew you were doomed to fail.”

  Sage wiped her eyes and yanked Shadow back onto the road before she could get to the patch of grass she’d been aiming for. “So how did that happen?”

  “My older brother was named after our father, and it was another eleven years before I came along,” he said. “My parents assumed there would be no more opportunities, so I was saddled with a combination of both grandfathers: Ethelred and Aldregon.”

  “Well, they had to be honored. Understandable.”

  “And ironically unnecessary. I have three younger brothers, remember?”

  “Oh, no!” Sage put her hand to her face and giggled.

  Casseck shrugged. “I’m over it now, but it was hell to live with as a kid until I met Alex. Anyone who tried to make fun of me caught his fist. My weakness became his own, and he conquered it.” Cass paused and looked out over the columns of marching soldiers. “And that’s the way he is with everyone.”

  Sage glanced ahead. Alex rode stiffly, like he couldn’t relax. Had he heard them laughing? He didn’t have to be jealous; she’d rather talk to him than Casseck. She reached up to brush hair away from her face and remembered with a jolt how much of it was gone. Her stomach rolled over. “What’s his weakness, Cass? Is it me?”

  His blue eyes followed her gaze to Alex’s back. “You are his greatest source of strength.” Cass smiled sadly. “But yes, that also makes you his weakness.”

  * * *

  It was an odd mixture of memories to travel as they did. Being in the woods and sleeping outdoors reminded Sage of her father’s work as a fowler. Often the pair of them had gone for days without seeing another person, but that was the way Father liked it. He said animals were more predictable when they weren’t around humans.

  In riding on horseback with a company of soldiers on a road, however, it was more like the journey to Tennegol with the Concordium brides last spring. Except this time Alex wasn’t at her side. Back then, the man she’d thought was the captain had kept his distance as Alex did now.

  So much the same, and so different.

  Alex pushed to get at least thirty-five miles per day at first, often marching the men till it was nearly dark. Without stopping long enough to hunt, they relied on their food supplies, but the pace would slow once they left the main road. The weather was fair, so in the evenings they slept under the stars, not bothering to set up tents. Sage puzzled over Casmuni pronunciations while sitting by the fire late into the night. Her list of translated words and phrases grew steadily, and she wondered how much progress Clare was making.

  Spirit above, she missed her. Why couldn’t she have thought of a reason for Clare to come along, too?

  Most of the time Sage rode with Nicholas. She didn’t know him well, so the first few days were spent getting past his haughty attitude. When she finally resorted to the threat of an unsatisfactory progress report getting him sent back to Tennegol—which she was sure Alex would approve, if it got rid of her, too—the prince shaped up. A little.

  It wasn’t long before she understood why his Kimisar language instructor and other tutors had made so little progress. The majority of his lessons had been based on written material, and as she’d suspected, things became muddled between reading and remembering, just like with his sister Carinthia. Fortunately, after almost a year of working with the princess, Sage had a good idea of how to reach Nicholas.

  “What’s the point of learning a language no one on this side of the mountains speaks?” he complained at first. “It’s not like I can use it.”

  “That’s been the problem,” she snapped. Alex’s cold shoulder and the prince’s whining made her short-tempered. “You can’t remember anything because you’ve never spoken it. Besides,” she continued a little more calmly. “It often falls to the younger royals to meet with other nations. You could be negotiating treaties in a few years.” Sage decided not to mention that often included marriage.

  “Really?” He sat a little straighter in the saddle.

  “Of course,” said Sage. “But only if you’ve mastered the language.”

  Nicholas made much quicker progress after that. It felt good to succeed at something.

  The Norsari left the Jovan Road on the eleventh day and headed south, toward the Kaz River. Two mornings later, Alex skipped exercises at dawn and let everyone rest. After breakfast he called Ash Carter and two officers to saddle up to ride ahead with him.

  “Why?” she asked Cass, since Alex never looked at her.

  To her surprise, Alex answered, “There’s someone out there.” He nodded to a thin line of smoke in the distance.

  Sage frowned. “And you need to investigate?”

  Alex shook his head. “Should be Rangers.” He exchanged a knowing look with Ash Carter.

  Men stationed on the border with Casmun. “May I come?” asked Sage. “Please?”

  She expected him to say no, but he instead he paused in preparing his horse to look at her, as if really seeing her for the first time in days. Sage was suddenly conscious of her short, messy hair and how long it had been since she’d bathed.

  His face softened a little. “All right. You have ten minutes to be ready.”

  23

  THEY TOOK A narrow path in the direction of the smoke, Lieutenant Hatfield bringing up the rear. Ten solid days of travel woul
d’ve tested anyone who didn’t already live in the saddle, and the backs and insides of Sage’s thighs were not only sore, the skin was raw where her weight had rested and chafed. Even with the extra padding she’d swallowed her pride enough to add, Sage fought to keep her grunts and winces to a minimum. Shadow picked her way over the rocky hillside, but without the noise of over two hundred other travelers to cover for her, Sage knew all four men were well aware of her discomfort.

  Alex finally halted the horses and called an army greeting. Sage relaxed her legs a little, relieved to not have to clamp them just to stay upright, even if it was only for a few minutes. The response came quickly, and too soon they continued down the hill. Sage tried to direct Shadow where she wanted the mare to go, but it was difficult with her aching body and the mouthwatering scent wafting toward them. She hoped they had enough to share; the Norsari hadn’t had fresh meat since leaving Tennegol.

  They came upon a group of ten men seated and standing around a fire. Bedrolls were spread about, though a few had been rolled up, indicating they’d spent the night here—which was also obvious from the doneness of the boar roasting on the spit—and they intended to move on before sunset.

  Sage swung her leg painfully over Shadow’s back to dismount. Her foot hit the ground before she was expecting it to, and her knee buckled as her inner thighs screamed. She only stayed semi-upright because her left foot was still in the stirrup.

  Hands at her waist lifted her up, taking the pressure off her trembling muscles. “Are you all right?” Alex murmured in her ear.

  He wanted to be gallant now, after over a week of ignoring her? “I’m fine,” Sage snapped. She eased her other leg to the ground, eyes watering, but he didn’t let go.

  “Give yourself a minute,” Alex whispered. He moved a little closer, his body warm against her back. Without thinking, Sage was leaning into him. Alex turned his face into her cropped hair, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

  “Captain?” Ash Carter called.

  The hands and heat vanished. “Right here, Sergeant,” Alex said. “On my way.”

  With the sudden loss of support, she had to grab Shadow’s mane to keep from collapsing. The horse looked back in concern, and Sage patted her in reassurance. When her legs felt steady enough to walk, Sage pulled the reins around and looped them on a tree limb. By the time she joined the others around the fire, introductions had already been made. The men, who must have been a Ranger squad, merely glanced at her. Sage felt too weary to explain her presence and was thankful her name was often used for boys.

  High-rimmed camp plates were loaded with roasted pork and passed around. Sage accepted one gratefully and eased herself down onto a fallen tree that served as a seat for several men. Without waiting for utensils, she shoved a piece of steaming meat in her mouth. She was licking grease off her fingers and considering how to ask for more when she noticed Alex and Ash had taken the squad’s leader off to the side, where they compared maps.

  “We’re glad to have more troops here,” said the Ranger on her right. “Given what happened last year.”

  Sage glanced at the man before looking back to Alex. “This Tasmet business has everyone on edge, seeing as it all started from within this time.”

  He nodded. “And now the Casmuni. Can’t help wondering if it’s all connected.”

  The soldier now had her full attention. “You’ve seen Casmuni around here?”

  “Well…” He tilted his head. “Not exactly. The only Casmuni I’ve actually seen were across the river.”

  “Really?” said Sage. She sat up, thoughts of a second helping forgotten. “Where exactly?”

  “They come to the Kaz River for water, though both sides of it belong to Demora around here.” He shrugged. “They never appear to be looking for a fight, so we don’t begrudge them a drink. Sometimes we wave and they wave back.”

  Sage had gained a sense of the importance of water and water rights for the Casmuni, which made sense for a desert people. Several documents referred to “sharing water” like it was a gesture of trust or friendship. The Rangers probably didn’t realize just how diplomatic their allowance was.

  “How often do you see them?” Sage asked.

  “Just in the spring and early summer. Last year and the one before.”

  It was what these men were seeing that had the king so secretive.

  “What do they look like?”

  “They dress for the desert, covering everything, even their heads and sometimes their faces, to protect from the wind and sun. Brown as Kimisar, they are, like your captain and sergeant.” The man jerked a thumb at Alex.

  His tone implied a question about Alex’s and Ash’s heredity. Both had their coloring from their Aristelan mothers—as did Prince Robert—but her companion’s mind had plainly gone elsewhere, to soldiers with different origins. “Tasmet had been part of Demora for decades,” she said. “Its people aren’t Kimisar anymore.”

  “So you say,” the man replied. “But out here you learn to be cautious.”

  “Cautious?” Sage frowned. Even growing up with a fear of Kimisar raiders—remote as that threat had been in Crescera—she’d never judged a person’s intentions based on the color of their skin, but the man’s attitude implied such prejudice was common in the army. Having only seen Alex among those who knew him, it hadn’t occurred to Sage how often he must face hostility in strangers, let alone other soldiers. Casseck never said what weakness Alex had as a boy that was so mercilessly preyed upon, but now she knew.

  Those children were probably only imitating the mindset they’d observed in adults but with an extra layer of cruelty. She was sure if she asked Alex about it he’d say it didn’t matter. But it did matter. Her fingers gripped the metal plate harder as she thought of the page who fought for everyone else when no one fought for him. “It sounds more like judgment to me.”

  “It’s not judgment,” the soldier insisted. “It’s experience.”

  That he’d spent probably half his life skirmishing with Kimisar in Tasmet had shaped this dangerous attitude, but that didn’t excuse it. Sage gritted her teeth. “I wonder how their experience with bias like yours affects their judgment.”

  “Well, I—”

  “And when someone gets killed because of those judgments, what will you say? That you mistrusted a man appointed over you—an officer of the king—because he didn’t look like you?”

  His cheeks flushed as he stared at his plate. “It’s difficult, you know, when you’re out here year after year, fighting. You get in the habit of seeing things a certain way.”

  And that was the problem. Sage didn’t think the man was necessarily a bad person—after all, he didn’t harbor the same automatic suspicions of the Casmuni. He was just reacting to what he’d always known. “Much of Tasmet was easily convinced to join the D’Amiran family’s plot against the crown,” she said softly. “The people there didn’t feel loyalty to Demora, even after all this time. I guess they were in the habit of seeing things a certain way, too.”

  “I don’t suppose the fighting now will help much, either,” her companion said.

  “Probably not.” Things were likely set back another generation at least. When she returned to Tennegol, Sage would write her old employer, Darnessa Rodelle, to discuss the ways she and the other regional matchmakers intended to foster healing after the war. Surely they had a plan already. Maybe she could help somehow.

  “We’re leaving,” said Alex, interrupting her thoughts. He stood over them, frowning, before moving away. Sage wondered how much he’d heard.

  “I’ll take that for you,” the man said politely, lifting the empty plate from her hand. Sage was still hungry but felt their conversation was worth far more than a full stomach.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Corporal Dale Wilder,” he said, offering his free hand.

  She shook it. “I’m Sage Fowler.”

  “Now, Sage,” called Alex.

>   “Coming.” Sage hopped up, then took extra time to brush off her clothes so she could recover from the pain of the movement. “I hope to see you again,” she told her new friend.

  The corporal smiled. “Oh, I guarantee it. We’ll be reporting to your captain fairly regular.”

  Sage puzzled over Wilder’s last words as she hurried to catch up to Alex. “Why will the Rangers be reporting to you?” she asked. “Aren’t they a completely different entity?”

  “I’m the closest superior. It’s a courtesy.” His speech was clipped, like he didn’t want to be caught talking with her. “And we’ll be going out for exercises later. They know the area.”

  “Will you go across the river?” she asked casually.

  Alex looked down at her. “Of course.”

  Sage struggled to find a way to ask what he would do if he ran into Casmuni, but she probably wasn’t supposed to know that was possible, let alone likely. “It’s only a few miles to the edge of the desert. Will you train there?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “What makes you think we’d do that?”

  “I just thought it would be a unique opportunity.” She shrugged, trying to look casual. “It’s uninhabited, right? They’d never notice.”

  Alex looked away. “I don’t know. I hadn’t considered crossing the border.”

  Oh, but he had. The way he refused to meet her eyes practically screamed it.

  It wasn’t until they were halfway back that Sage realized they’d left Ash Carter behind.

  24

  THEY RETURNED TO the Norsari group in the afternoon, but as far as the river still was, Alex felt it was impractical to march today. He left again as soon as he’d gotten something to eat, wanting to scout the best place to set up permanent camp. Cass insisted on accompanying him. Much as he wanted to be alone, Alex knew his friend was right. The squad they’d met today hadn’t seen recent signs of Casmuni, but it was better to be safe.