“Recruits will ride tonight,” Hugh says. “Will you return in time?”
His voice is a little stern, like I’m a schoolboy trying to skip out on lessons. “Yes,” I say. “How soon?”
“Two hours.”
I nod quickly.
“Good.” The sternness dissipates. “You need it.” Master Hugh steps into the stall beside me and unbuckles the girth, adjusting my saddle placement.
“Thank you,” I say sheepishly.
He pats me on the shoulder kindly, and it’s so unexpected that I’m not sure how to react. “Teddy will take care of you. Do not hurt yourself.”
“All right.”
He steps back like he’s going to exit the stall, but then he surveys me more critically. I’ve left one crutch against the wall to leave my hands free, but I still have the right one. Hugh’s eyes go from the crutch to the bottom of my right leg and then back to my face, and I find myself automatically bristling.
But he says, “Crutches around horses are no good. You should see the armorer. Maybe she can fashion a new foot.”
I stare at him like he’s speaking an entirely new language. “What?”
“Captain Ammax. I have seen her do it once or twice before. After the war.” He frowns. “She does not speak Syssalah. I will ask for you. It may have been too long. But I will ask.”
I shake my head, thinking of my attempts over the years to fashion something that would support my weight, wouldn’t be painful, andwould allow me to move around the forge more efficiently than the crutches and ropes I used at home. Nothing ever worked very well—and half the time my father would snort at my efforts and toss them in the fire himself. “I’ve tried. Nothing stays on. It’s too hard to pivot around the forge—”
“Hush.” He waves a hand,tsking. “Let fate provide. Ammax does good work. I will ask.”
Let fate provide.There are just too many surprises in this conversation.
While I’m staring at him, he moves close to me again, until we’re standing side by side. “Where does your leg end? Match to mine. Show me so I can take measure.”
I’m so stunned that I can’t do anything but obey. He touches the same height on his own leg, measuring the distance from the ground.
“I will remember,” he says.
My thoughts are so rattled that I nod and say the word back to him in Emberish. “Remember.”
His eyes light up just like Sephran’s did. “You’re learning!”
I flush. Learning a lot more than I expected to.
He pats me on the shoulder again, then steps back out of the way. “Have a good ride.” His expression turns stern again. “Two hours. I make soldiers muck stalls if they turn up late.”
I nod. “Yes, Master Hugh.”
But he’s already shifted to move down the aisle, so I lead Teddy out of the stall to wait for the soldiers.
Sephran and Kutter don’t come alone. Three other men arrive in the stable yard, all laden with bows and quivers and various other weapons. Between the journey here and my work in the forge, I’ve seen too many soldiers, and I can’t remember if I’ve met them before. They havevarying skin tones, but in armor, they’ve all begun to look the same: short hair, broad shoulders, muscled arms.
Cool eyes when they regard me.
I’m immediately wary. I didn’t realize Sephran was bringing others.
Kutter’s face breaks into a smile when he draws close, though. “Jax! How do you sayhelloin Syssalah?” His smile turns mischievous, and he reaches out to knock Sephran in the shoulder, then switches languages. He carefully pronounces the words to say, “Suck a piece of horseshit?” and looks back at me. “Is that right?”
That bursts through my tension and makes me laugh. I can’t believe he remembered the whole phrase, but then the soldiers never lacked for profanity. “Helloandgoodbye,” I say.
Sephran rolls his eyes, but he smiles. “Jax.” He points to the three young men who’ve accompanied him and Kutter. “Trapp, Fowler, and Leo.”
