There was a gentle tapping at his chamber door, just loud enough to catch his attention. He opened the door to find a tall young woman, her beautiful features serene and confident. This was not the cowering servant he’d expected.
“Prince Finnvid? I’m Roxa. Photina asked me to show you to the dining hall and the baths, and to wherever else you might like to go.”
He nodded, and tried to remember how to make his smile gracious without seeming deferential. “Thank you. I’d appreciate your guidance.”
“Are you ready to eat?”
“I could be, yes. Let me find my boots.” They hadn’t replaced those, he noted, and felt glad of it. These were the boots he’d worn when he left Elkat, and it was nice to have at least one thing that hadn’t changed in the last month or so. He gestured toward the small room at the end of the hall. “I’ll just stop off for a moment before we go too far,” he added. For all their primitive culture, the Torians certainly had a way with water; the sinks and toilets in Windthorn would be the envy of the Elkati palace, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to explain the miracle of the bathhouse.
He shut the door behind him and leaned over the sink, splashing water on his face as he tried to stop thinking about the baths, about Theos’s strong brown body soaking, or indulging in other pleasures. No, Finnvid admired the Torian engineering, not the decadent uses they had found for their inventions.
He and Roxa went outside and made their way through the bustling streets. Hardly any horses here or even oxen, but many pedestrians. All women, he realized with a start. “Are thereanymen in the city, other than me?”
Roxa said, “Right now, yes. Anyone who needs a tradesperson or who has other business is welcome to visit during the day. And if there was a threat in the valley, we’d give shelter to any men who were ill or injured. But normally, at night, it’s only women. And the male children, of course.”
So Finnvid was lumped in with the children and the infirm. Compared to the strength he’d seen on display at the training yards, he supposed it made sense. But he couldn’t help musing about what the men were doing. Breakfast probably was over, so maybe they were running, the huge mass of them surging around like a river in spring flood. He’d been part of that, however briefly, and now . . . now he was set apart again.
Roxa continued, “And, with you here, everything’s a bit different. We had two regular soldiersanda Sacrati guarding you last night.” She shook her head, clearly amazed that any Torian would care that much about someone who wasn’t strong enough to defend himself. Then she glanced over her shoulder. “They’re still following us.”
Finnvid whirled around. Sure enough, there were two unfamiliar men about ten paces behind him, and off to the side was Andros.
Finnvid wanted to go talk to him. Andros wasn’t only a familiar face, he was afriendlyface. He might not be pleased with Finnvid right then, but he’d always been kind to him before, and he really didn’t seem like the sort to hold a grudge. Finnvid wanted to be Andros’s friend, wanted to hug him in greeting and walk beside him.
But Finnvid was an ambassador now, caught between two factions of a society that was accustomed to using war to solve differences of opinion. So he made himself smile at all three men as he walked back toward them, ignoring the privacy they’d been giving him. “I was guarded overnight?” Each side protecting him from the attacks of the other, he supposed. “Thank you. I knew I felt safe, but I didn’t realize all the effort that went into that.”
And those were enough joint pleasantries. He wanted to find a way to speak to Andros alone, but it would be too much of a risk. “I’m hoping to meet with each of your leaders shortly,” he said instead. “I’m on my way to breakfast, so after that?”
“The warlord is at your disposal,” one of the soldiers replied with an attempt at a gracious bow.
Andros raised an eyebrow. “The captain is busy with various important duties. But he was planning to come up here midmorning to check in.” There was no bow.
Finnvid wasn’t sure which style he preferred, but it didn’t matter. “Is there any point to us all meeting together? I’ve already spoken to both men alone, after all.” Though more times with the warlord, from their initial negotiations in the wilderness to the meeting outside the laundry room a few days earlier where Finnvid had received the key and instructions for his escape.
The soldiers seemed uncertain, and Andros’s shrug didn’t speak of confidence either. But at least he had an answer. “I suppose it depends what your goals are. And of course you’ve kept your own council on that, so I couldn’t begin to offer advice.”
So there it was. Theos’s anger might be more acute, but Andros was obviously harboring resentment as well. Finnvid didn’t like it. Not just strategically, in terms of finding allies, but also personally. He wanted a friend, and thatshouldbe his first priority, as long as he remembered that his friends should be Elkati, not Torian.
“I want to have my men released. If we’re treating my capture as a misunderstanding, then surely my men should be freed too.”
Andros nodded as if he’d been expecting the request. “So you should meet with both leaders,” he said. “Let them sort it all out.”
Andros clearly wanted to wash his hands of it all, as Theos had tried to do so many times. But he’d been just as unable to escape Finnvid as Finnvid had been unable to escape him.
That was a thought for another time. “How do I send a request to the captain?” They’d spoken briefly the night before, and neither of them had committed to anything beyond an agreement to speak more in the future. Finnvid wasn’t certain just how far he was authorized to go on his own; he’d been sent to the Windthorn valley to meet with the warlord and cement their alliance, not to start a whole new political relationship.
“I can arrange a meeting,” Roxa said, inserting herself smoothly into the conversation. “And perhaps I could send an invitation to the reeve, as well? She isn’t directly involved with the prisoners, but talk may move to other matters, and I’m sure she’d have a great deal to contribute.”
The right path would be clearer if he knew more about the internal politics of Windthorn: how was power distributed, and what was the etiquette for these sorts of meetings? He was in over his head.
“I assume we’ll be meeting in the city.” Andros spoke directly to Finnvid. “So I’m sure we’d all understand if you wanted to include your host in the meeting.”
It wasn’t clear whether Andros was taking pity on him or if he was just arranging for his side’s ally to be present, but either way, Finnvid was grateful for the suggestion. “Of course,” he agreed, nodding to Roxa. “I’d appreciate it if you could set up a meeting. At everyone’s earliest convenience?”
So while he ate his breakfast, alone, she went off and made the arrangements and Andros and the soldiers went back to their respectful distance. Finnvid wished he had something more to do with his time while he waited, and ended up finding his way onto the city walls, peering down through the crenellations at the barracks below. The masses of men in the drilling yards were training and working as if it were just another day.
“Looking for someone?” Andros asked from nearby. His face was impassive, but his eyes were locked on Finnvid’s face.
Finnvid shook his head quickly. “No. Just . . . watching.”
