Brenner looked at Slate. Slate said “He’s probably right,” and picked at her bread. Poppy-milk killed your appetite, but she knew she should probably eat anyway.
“I could kill them just alittle.”
“No.”
“I will never understand,” said Learned Edmund, apparently to Caliban, “why I was not placed in charge of this expedition.”
“Because you look about twelve,” said Slate, too tired to be diplomatic. “Do you even have to shave yet?”
The dedicate flushed scarlet. “I am nineteen!”
“I am thirty-seven,” said Caliban, “and if I can accept Mistress Slate’s leadership, so can you.”
“She hasn’t been leading!” said Learned Edmund. “She’s been drinking poppy and falling off her horse! You’re the one finding the inns and choosing the route.”
Caliban locked eyes with Slate. “She has delegated,” he said, his voice a low rumble, in sharp contrast to Learned Edmund’s. “Mistress Slate’s talents lie elsewhere. I assure you, they are considerable.”
“Damn straight they are,” said Brenner, snickering.
“Shutup,Brenner.”
Learned Edmund got up from the table and walked away without speaking.
Slate groaned and dropped back against the wall again. “Whydid they send him on this trip? He hasn’t got a tattoo eating his arm off.”
“He volunteered,” said Caliban.
Slate blinked. So did Brenner.
“Among dedicates of the Many-Armed God, he is considered very…compassionate,” said Caliban.
“Dear god!”
Brenner whistled softly.
“How did you find that out?” asked Slate.
“I asked the Captain of the Guard.” He looked down at his hands with a small, ironic smile. “The Many-Armed God’s temple were very keen to find their missing scholar in Anuket City, or, if he is dead, to find out what he was working on when he died. They wanted his journal translated very badly. And when Learned Edmund learned that those who accompanied the dedicate were expected to die, his heart was moved by pity at our fate. He offered to go, both to find this scholar and because he knew that he was to be the designated survivor who would bring the information we gathered to the Dowager and the Many Armed God.”
“Didn’t realize a woman would be in charge, I take it,” said Slate. Her head was clear, but she didn’t have to like it.
Caliban inclined his head. “He is young and not worldly. I truly do not think it occurred to him or his superiors.”
“Did he know they expected us all to die before we even got to the city?”
The paladin sighed. “I believe he was told that it was dangerous. But he is very young, and the young always believe that they are immortal.”
“Ugh.” Slate rubbed her shoulder and hissed with the pain.
“It should improve soon,” said Caliban.
“What, Learned Edmund?”
“No, the pain. Your body adapts to riding the way it adapts to practicing the sword.”
“I don’t dothateither.”
He helped them both upstairs. Brenner fell into his room cursing. Slate eased herself onto the bed as if into hot water. Each individual muscle was still furious.
