“Rydon.”
“What?”
“His name’s Rydon,” Croak said. “The shorter man. The other one with the permanent scowl to go with the permanent stick up his ass is his man, Gabriol. Not sure of their relationship otherwise, but I see deference every once in a while.”
“So they have?—”
“Gaia’s blood!”
Croak and Terena whipped their heads across the dying fire to see Ormano dusting off his robes and grabbing at his cloak to stomp over to them. He sat down with a grunt, struggling for a bit as he tried to cross his legs. He gave up after three failed attempts. Sonah hadn’t moved, huddled beneath the cloak.
“You two are jabbering loud enough for the dead to hear, let alone Masters Rydon and Gabriol!”
Terena shushed him. “Oh, so you’re best friends now? Masters, indeed.” Terena said as she scooted over to allow Orry to settle closer.
“Hardly,” he said with a frown. “They may not have said it, but I know noblemen when I see them. Even if they’re not from Heylisia. We had the opportunity to speak while we stayed at the monastery. And it was their plan that saved you, mind, so I’d be more civil in future.”
“Civil?” she laughed. “They came here seeking me out for a man who was no one and nothing a few months past!”
“And yet, if their aim was to kill you, they need not have lifted a finger to help you,” Orry said.
“Fine! Then what’s their play?”
“Well,” a voice said over Terena’s shoulder, making them all jump. “I was thinking we head as you’d planned but further west, to Osta. There, we can use the Greek roads and head north.”
Orry gasped and Croak reached out to grab hold of his sword. Terena simply sat there, staring over Croak’s shoulder at Rydon.
He smiled at having surprised them and loped over, bending slowly to one knee near the group.
“Solon has men there,” Terena snapped. “His soldiers are deserting to go north so he’ll have men thereto stop them.”
Rydon shrugged. “A lot has changed. He no longer has deserters top of mind. He’ll be looking for you.”
“So what do you suggest?”
“If it were me,” Rydon said as he shifted, “I’d pull those men back. Further east to Vesala. Men to cover the other ports north. And the places where you could find sanctuary. They will choke those towns first before they look west,” he continued.
They were quiet a moment before Terena spoke. “But we’d have to go through the Pass or go south through Elis which, I’m telling you right now, I will not do. The empress’s family rules in Elis. At best, we lose three days.”
“We’ll be going through the Oryon Pass,” he confirmed. “And you’d better get used to the possibility it might take longer than that, even.” He gazed at Terena, then looked over his shoulder at Sonah’s sleeping form. “You and Sonah are wanted for the murder of the Crown Prince of Heylisia. And you specifically, for being a god. There’s no one in the empire won’t be looking for you. Remember Duke Ovenno’s men at Lethe?”
Croak stiffened, and he saw Terena flinch.
“You are not going north anytime soon,” Rydon finished, his voice rough, but Croak saw the sympathy in his emerald eyes.
Silence thickened around them, broken only by the pop of the fire.
Rydon leaned forward and started drawing in the dirt near their beds.
“If we get to Osta without issue, we head north to Seleste. We can cross safely there. “The river is still frozen over, and Seleste is the furthest west we can still cross on horseback,” Rydon said, casting a look at Orry. “By then they’ll have assumed either they missed us, lost us or were looking in the wrong place.”
“I thought you didn’t know this area,” Croak said suspiciously.
Rydon shrugged. “I lied. Mercenary.”
Croak looked over at Terena, who sat looking at the ground.
“And when we get to the north?” he asked. “I assume there’s a plan for that as well?”
