A few hours later, as the sun dropped behind the mountain peaks, they ran up the hill toward the Elkati camp. They were both genuinely out of breath, but they exaggerated the stagger in their steps and the slump in their bodies.
There were sentries on duty—the Elkati had managed that much—huddled behind a tree, trying to escape the wind, and only one stepped forward to intercept the new arrivals. Theos briefly reconsidered the plan; he could probably kill these three without much noise or fuss, and then there would be no one to sound an alarm. No. There would be time enough for killing if the plan went wrong; no need to rush into it.
So he doubled over as if fighting for breath while Finnvid spoke in Elkati. He would be saying that they had an urgent message for the camp commander. When the sentry would demand to know what it was, Finnvid would gasp out that an army of Torians had snuck around, coming down the mountain route, and were on their way to the valley.
Theos could see the sentry’s jerk of panic in response to the Elkati words and wondered if they should have chosen something more mundane, and snuck in on a wave of apathy rather than panic, but it was too late to change, and this approach seemed to be working. The man was no longer thinking clearly, and that was good news. Finnvid barked a few orders at the sentries and then strode into camp, Theos stumbling along behind him, doing his best to look harmless and disoriented.
Finnvid seemed to know where he was going, approaching a large tent—a tent, in the middle of the mountains in the wintertime—and then jerking to a halt as if his attention had been called elsewhere. Hopefully this charade would work if the sentries were still watching them. Finnvid turned and strode just as purposefully off on a tangent, and then, once they were out of view of the sentries, he stopped and waited for Theos to catch up. “Good?” he whispered, and Theos nodded. He didn’t see any reason for them to wait around.
So they continued, heading for the far side of the camp, and it was then that Theos saw a familiar face, and then another. The Elkati soldiers who’d traveled with them from Windthorn, the soldiers who’d been Torian captives for months . . . some of them were in the camp, and they were staring at Theos and Finnvid. They’d recognized them.
Theos found his sword. There were too many Elkati, far too many, but he’d go down fighting.
Then he saw one of the former captives raise his hand. A quick, subtle gesture, but unmistakeable. He was telling Theos to stop. Stop moving? No. Stop his attack, before it had even started. The men didn’t move. They didn’t sound an alarm. And then, as if of one mind, they turned away.
Theos hurried after Finnvid, and they reached the path out of the camp. There were sentries there as well, just as cold and miserable looking as the others, and again only one of them stepped forward. More Elkati words from Finnvid, this time drawled in the bored voice of a soldier sent on a task he considered beneath his dignity, and then they were past.
Still not out of bow’s reach, though; Theos could almost feel the arrowheads burying themselves in his shoulders, yet nothing flew at them, and no alarm was raised.
Theos wanted to speak, wanted to yell a celebration, but he didn’t dare. So he just kept walking after Finnvid, trudging through the barely packed snow.
When he couldn’t stand it any longer, Theos jogged a few steps and caught up to Finnvid. “It worked,” he said.
“So far,” Finnvid said. “But there are tracks here . . . Elkati have been traveling this path. Keep your guard up and your voice down. Stop speaking your brutish Torian.”
Theos was startled into silence and fell silently back into line as they moved on. Finnvid was right; there was no need to draw attention to themselves. But Finnvid didn’t understand that it didn’t matter if they drew the attention of an Elkati or two. It probably wouldn’t matter if they drew the attention of five, as long as none of them were archers. Theos could handle a few Elkati. By the sword, his Sacrati instinctswantedto handle them. He’d been nervous walking through camp but unable to do anything about it, and his body was still thrumming with unused energy. It would feel so good to use it, to fight and strain and face death and find victory over his foe.
He scowled at Finnvid, scurrying forward, running away, and was irritated, but only for a moment. Because then he realized the soldiers they’d just escaped from were Finnvid’s people. Anyone they fought now would be one of Finnvid’s people. Maybe someone he’d grown up with, someone he knew.
The Elkati soldiers who’d looked away and let them pass? Did Theos want those soldiers to regret their actions and spend the rest of their lives knowing that their decision had allowed Theos to go on and kill some of their comrades?
He swore under his breath, too quietly for Finnvid to hear. War was much easier when he didn’t know any of the enemy.
They walked on until the moon set, then denned up for a few hours of sleep while waiting for the sun. As they lay on their sides, facing each other, their bodies tight together to share warmth and comfort, Theos wished there was more light. He wanted to study Finnvid’s face, wanted to understand how he was feeling. He’d left his people behind, helped someone who might be their enemy, someone who’d only hours earlier wanted to kill some of them just to wear off some energy . . .
“Close your eyes,” Finnvid said softly.
“It’s dark in here. You don’t know if they’re open or closed.”
“I know. I can feel you staring at me.”
“No you can’t.”
“Are you staring at me?”
“Maybe.”
“I wonder how I knew that?”
“Well, now I wonder too! How am I supposed to go to sleep with that on my mind? I need to keep my eyes open so I can watch you and figure it out.”
“You can’t see me. It’s dark in here.”
“If Elkati have superior night vision, that’s something I should know. It could have strategic importance.”
“It won’t. Because we’re away from the Elkati now. We’re only a day or two from the border, and no matter how much they might want to catch us, they won’t be stupid enough to cross the border into Torian lands, not after killing Sacrati.”
“And you’re not worried about that? Not sad? To be leaving your people behind . . .”
