The prisoner wasn’t breathing properly yet, but he managed to slip his pack off his shoulder and drag the top of it open. Theos readied himself for the appearance of a weapon; instead the Elkati pulled out a rolled parchment. By the time he stood up, he probably could have spoken if he’d wanted to. He handed the parchment to Andros with a wordless glare in Theos’s direction.
Theos glared right back, and after a moment the prisoner dropped his eyes. They stood there, locked in their poses of dominance and submission, until Andros swore softly. “Read this. It matches what Gunnald said, but there’s more details.” He handed the parchment over and Theos accepted it. He could read, well enough to get by, but it wasn’t easy for him, especially with his vision fading in and out as it was. Still, if Andros thought it was important . . .
Theos read. Then he jumped back to the start and read again. The words were impersonal, but to Theos, they meant more than what they said. Ekakios, Heirax, Crios, Balius, Tiro. All the Sacrati, the men Theos had lived and trained with his whole life. If they’d died in battle, he would have grieved them and moved on. The ambush, though? There had been no honor in it, no chance for them to die as the warriors they were. They’d been murdered, and it had come at the behest of a fellow Torian. “Zenain,” Theos said. His voice seemed strange, but he continued. “He sent this letter on ahead.” He stared at the prisoner, then at Andros. “It came from . . . It was one ofus. Zenain caused this.”
Andros nodded slowly. “It seems so.”
Theos tried to make sense of it. A Torian should . . . A Torian would . . . “Zenain,” he whispered. The word was a curse.
“Gunnald said he didn’t know, and neither did any of the other Elkati. When I snuck into the valley and found him, he told me what had happened. He said Finnvid didn’t know.”
“I didn’t,” Finnvid said. He sounded genuine, desperate to be believed and forgiven. But he was such a good liar. He’d fooled Theos so many times before.
Theos couldn’t think, not right then. He staggered a little as he turned and looked back down the mountain. “Why aren’t they following us?”
“I’m not sure.” Finnvid stepped forward cautiously, keeping his distance but peering in the same direction Theos was. “I asked Gaiera to hide my absence, but I didn’t think she’d be able to do it for too long. And someone should have noticed you missing, surely.”
“Gunnald thought no one would notice until they changed guards in the morning,” Andros said. “So if they didn’t discover you missing, and your friend didn’t report it, they may have only just found out. We’ve got a good head start.”
“Good,” Theos said. It was as if the words were coming from very far away, maybe way back in the valley. Maybe from that entry hall at the Elkat castle, where his Sacrati comrades had been butchered. He squinted at Andros, and the expression on his friend’s face told him he wasn’t the only one who knew their next step. “You’ll do it,” he said. “You’ll take care of it.” Andros nodded. That was enough, so Theos tried to focus on Finnvid’s face and say, “Go home. Be safe.”
But Finnvid didn’t seem to be listening to him, or just wasn’t obeying. Typical. Theos tried to push the boy, to show him which way he was supposed to be going. Somehow he lost his balance and swayed, and then stumbled. He felt a quick stab of pain from his thigh, reached for it, and managed to miss his own body with his hand. Was he dissolving?
“Catch him,” he heard Andros say, and he tried to turn, tried to grab at the Elkati before he got away: Why was Andros telling him to do that? Had Finnvid betrayed them again sosoon?
Then the world spun a little and Theos was staring at something impossibly bright and dazzlingly blue. He could hear voices, maybe, and that was nice. He wasn’t alone. And he wasn’t cold. He felt his eyes drifting shut and didn’t fight to keep them open.
***
“Imaybe able to control them if they catch up to us,” Finnvid said. “Maybe. I can’t guarantee it.” If the men were sent by his brother, they’d probably be manageable; if his mother was involved, with her paranoia about Finnvid’s state of mind, the soldiers might have been told to ignore his orders. They wouldn’t hurthim, but they’d kill the Sacrati, or else be killed trying. Finnvid didn’t like to think about either outcome.
Andros nodded and looked doubtfully at the man sprawled at their feet. Finnvid had done the best he could with his healing, but Theos’s trousers were dark with blood, and there couldn’t have been much extra in his body to start with. It probably hadn’t helped that Finnvid had been shaking, almost crying, the entire time. To be with Theos again, to feel the beginnings of forgiveness, and then to see him collapse? It was too much, and Finnvid had been hardly any use until Andros had grabbed him by the hair and held his head still while scrubbing his face with a rough hand and icy snow. Finnvid had managed to regain at least some control after that treatment. He was glad Andros was still in charge.
The Sacrati said, “We’ll rest here, where we have a view of the trail. We can decide what to do about pursuers when we actually see them coming.”
“Did you kill the guards?” Finnvid had been fretting about it since they’d left the castle, and he needed to know for sure.
Andros shook his head. “Gunnald wouldn’t let me. He stayed out of sight so there’d be no need, and I just tied them up.” A quick look before he added, “You Elkati really should work on your training.”
Finnvid snorted, and sank down in the snow beside Theos. They were nestled against a cliff that sheltered them from the wind, and he’d grabbed his warmest clothes before he left the castle, so he wasn’t cold, although his hands were still thawing after being bared to help Theos, and from being washed in the snow. Finnvid stared at the reddened ground and said, “If we’re followed, they’ll think we fought a battle here.”
Andros looked around, apparently quite comfortable with the gore. “Maybe,” he agreed. Then he turned back to Finnvid. “I’ve got questions. And we don’t want to move him until we have to, so . . . it’s time to answer them.”
Andros’s expression was Sacrati-fierce, and Finnvid braced himself.
Sure enough, the first question was hissed through angry teeth. “What happened?” Andros clearly had to work to bring himself back under control before adding, “Who knew what, and when? What’s the situation now? Why couldn’t you help Theos in the castle?” He paused as if thinking, then caught and held Finnvid’s gaze. “Don’t try to tell me you didn’twantto help him. We’re not going to play that game.”
“I wanted to help,” Finnvid whispered. But how to explain the fine balance he’d been trying to maintain, especially to someone like Andros, someone strong enough to just power through any obstacles? Then he remembered how Andros had been caught in the middle of the mess back in Windthorn, forbidden to share what he knew with Theos even as he watched his friend struggle to figure things out. Andros of all people knew that things could be complicated. He must know that sometimes the best path to a destination wasn’t a straight one.
So Finnvid stood up and told his story, such as it was, Andros interjecting with an occasional question, and when it was done, Andros nodded his understanding of the facts. But there was still no hint of whether Finnvid’s explanations had been acceptable when the Sacrati asked, “So what are you planning to do now?”
Finnvid swallowed. “I’m not sure. My first plan was just to get to you and deliver the letter. To prove my people weren’t your enemy. Or at least, not yourworstenemy.” Well, his first plan had been to see Theos. There had been no logic behind his pursuit, no motivation other than a selfish, desperate hunger to see the man still alive. But Andros didn’t need to hear all that.
“And was there a second plan?” Andros asked.
“There’s been about fifty, all racing through my head, none making any real sense.”
“So you’ll stick to the first one. You’ve delivered the letter. Now you’ll turn around and go home.” It wasn’t quite a question, not quite an order.
