“What will you have us do?”
If I ask, he will take command. He has seen carnage before. He will know what he is doing, and he will know that I am out of my depth, and I do not believe he will think less of me for it.
I will not ask.
“I thought the battles were farther south and east. The army’s supposed to be holding them.” She heard her own voice, sounding angry and betrayed.I knew they were supposed to be raiding, I knew it, they told me, but the army was supposed tostopthem. My plan hinged on the army not screwing up.She took a deep breath. “I didnot expect them to be raiding this far down the trade road,” she said. “If we travel past this point, we might be a week or more, through territory held by the enemy.”
Caliban nodded. “I thought so as well.”
“So.” Slate drew up the reins. “We cannot continue this way, then. We’ll have to backtrack.”
“Where are we backtracking to?” asked Learned Edmund.
“For now, the last village.” It had been mostly empty, but if anyone was left, they would need to be warned. “After that—well, Brenner, do you think we can figure out where we can join up to the smuggler’s road?”
He looked up from where he had been rolling a cigarette, the paper dangling in his hand. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, darlin’?”
“No, but I don’t see what other choice we have.”
He rubbed at his neck. “Yeah, maybe. Somewhere around Six Ells, isn’t it? I’ve never been on it, but if you give me a map, I can probably work it out, assuming they haven’t gone and changed the whole thing.”
“There’s a smuggler’s road that goes through the mountains,” Slate told the other two. “It’s narrow and in bad repair, but it bypasses the valley. The end comes out just over the Archonhold border, maybe fifty miles from Anuket City. I can’t imagine anyone would send troops down it, so perhaps if we can get on it, we can get to Anuket City without…” She trailed off, gesturing at the destruction around her.
“I would like to bury the dead,” said Caliban. “Or at least burn them.”
She looked down at him, startled. He seemed to be addressing her boot, his eyes downcast.
He knows I’m going to say no. We don’t have time.
Slate sighed, and learned something else about command.
If he was in charge, he’d say no, but because he isn’t, he gets to ask.
“I wish we could,” she told him. “But you know we don’t have time. I’m sorry.”
He nodded stiffly, and released her stirrup. Slate went back to staring at her hands, and listened to the sounds of creaking leather as the paladin mounted his horse.
They had gotten perhaps a dozen lengths down the road, barely into the trees, when the smell of rosemary reared up and hit Slate full in the face.
This was no elusive hint of magic, no subtle warning. This was an assault on the senses. Slate felt like she was drowning in a violent, if herbal, sea.
She dropped her reins, gagging. Her throat burned and her eyes watered. She knew that she was breathing, because she could hear the horrible gasping noises she kept making, but there did not seem to be any air in her lungs.
“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” Caliban’s horse banged into hers and her leg got pinned between them, but that was a minor concern. The paladin reached across and grabbed her shoulder. “Slate! Slate, my god, what’s wrong?” He shook her, which didn’t much help matters.
“Got to get off the road,” she rasped, through a throat gone thick and bubbling. “Get off the road! Now!”
“What foolishness is this?” demanded Learned Edmund.
“Do it!” Brenner said, turning his horse awkwardly and riding for the cover of the trees.
Caliban, to his credit, did not ask questions. He grabbed Slate’sreins and brought both horses to the edge of the road, then slid off to lead them into the woods. It was a good thing, because Slate was in no condition to lead anybody anywhere. She wrapped her arms around her head, wracked with coughing, while that godawful overpowering reek of rosemary sank into her bones.
They were deep in the trees, set far back from the road, when Slate slid off her horse. She staggered, nearly falling. Something held her up—a tree trunk, a paladin, she couldn’t tell and it didn’t matter. She could not stop coughing, and danger was coming, down the road, stinking of magic.
“Shut—me—up—” she managed to choke out.
Caliban stared at her. “What?”
