As she watched the searchers go westward into the still-dark steppe, their backs to the rising sun, Aidan asked, “Have you gone to see the Host?”
“Not yet. But I met the Grim King last night, so I must wash before I visit.”
Aidan nodded. “That is the way. Then I shall bring you your meal. And your wound…”
Yuma placed a hand on her injured hip and said, “Stallia saw to it. No need to worry too much.”
The two looked toward the west in silence. When the herders disappeared into the grass, Aidan said, “I assume you’ve heard I grew up learning sorcery with the Grim King a long time ago.”
“I’ve heard rumors, yes.”
It was said that Aidan had been sent to Eldred as a child and was almost apprenticed to him, but that Aidan had returned to Danras as a man and become a herder instead. This was the first time she was hearing him speak of it himself.
“Do you know why I was sent to him?”
Yuma shook her head before turning away from Aidan. She was, after yesterday, quite sick of the Grim King. Whether they caught this spy for him or not, she wanted to forget all about him and just finish the herding for the year. But Aidan continued with his story.
“When I was a child… this was over forty years ago now. But the Host at the time prophesied that the apprentice of the Grim King would become the King of Merseh.”
Yuma winced. “I’ve heard about the prophecy, but not what transpired after that. All I know is that many children of magic from all three cities were killed.”
“Well, once the prophecy was made, the Grim King issued an edict saying he sought apprentices. Danras sent children, as did Lansis and Iorca. For what he seeks, he gets. The Grim King accepted all who had magic, and I was one. We really thought one of us would end up ruling this country one day.”
She looked back at him. There was a bitter smile on Aidan’s lips.
“The children with no affinity for sorcery were turned away at the gate of the palace, and those of us with magic were taught by the Grim King for ten years. Some weren’t clever, and others found the trials too difficult. Those children did not survive. Four did, though, including myself, and the Grim King declared he would make the one who passed the final test his apprentice.” Aidan sighed. “I was the only one to pass. The other three… they disappeared into nothing. But the Grim King did not make me his apprentice.”
“Why not?”
“I didn’t know at first. He simply destroyed the magic in me and banished me to the steppe.” Aidan rubbed his paralyzed right cheek. “But later on, I understood. The reason one takes an apprentice is to pass on knowledge. Somewhat like passing on a family’s legacy to a child. But the Grim King is immortal. He needs no child or apprentice, and he never will.”
Yuma thought of how the Grim King had killed Rizona without giving it a second thought. If the Grim King thought so little of apprentices and children, how much less would he care about others? Merseh had been ruled by the Grim King for at least five centuries. No one knew what he was before that or where heeven came from. Perhaps every life was as ephemeral as spring flowers to one so long-lived. But Yuma became curious about one thing.
“Aidan, if the Grim King gave so little regard for the lives of his other apprentice candidates—”
“Why would he spare my life?” Aidan touched the deadened side of his face again. “The best I can figure is that maybe he wished formeto have children. I was not good enough to be his apprentice, but he might have been hoping that a worthy successor would appear in a few generations.”
All Yuma could do was nod.
Aidan adjusted his hat and said, “That’s just the way he is. The Grim King can never be understood by the measure of those who don’t live even a hundred years.”
Yuma nodded again. Aidan tipped his hat and got on his horse. As she watched him leave, she imagined him as a young boy. Not in leather, riding a horse on the steppe, but in a gray robe given to him by the Grim King, chanting ominous spells in a dim room.
For days afterward, Yuma kept an eye to the west. If the searchers found the spy, they were to send up a smoke signal during the day or light a fire at night. Nothing happened for three days, aside from the occasional adventurous young orox that needed to be returned to the herd. The water drained from the earth, and the sky was clear and blue as if it had never known rain.
On the morning of the fourth day, Yuma washed herself in rainwater that had been gathered on a tarp. There were not many days she could bathe during a herding. The ponds that dotted the grasslands were mostly for the oroxen—their water was too muddyto bathe in, much less drink, which meant the herders would need to strain it and let the silt settle before boiling it with a fragrant herb before imbibing. Clean water on the grasslands was rare.
So, bathing oneself was even rarer. But Yuma did so for the sake of meeting with the Host. Three days with no news from the searchers meant she needed to consult auguries.
The occasion forbade herder dress, so Yuma took out ceremonial clothes from a bundle in her tent. The trousers were made of black wool, which had to be imported to Merseh, and the tunic was white muslin. The clothes had been made for her grandfather, modified to fit her mother, and taken in again by Yuma—both items were at least half a century old. She put on the somberly beaded string that cinched her collar, thinking of the last time she wore these clothes, last winter. She had been seeing off the youths who had been conscripted by the Grim King.
Yuma adjusted the back of her ceremonial clothing and tugged the creases out of her sleeves. The Host was meticulous when it came to ceremony. If she didn’t want to be turned away, every seam had to be lined up. Rizona would’ve made sure…
Yuma adjusted her hat and left her tent.
But as soon as she stepped into the pewter light of dawn, Aidan came running. He wasn’t on his horse, nor was he even wearing his hat. His hair, which wasn’t properly tied back, was mostly flying in the breeze. Herders everywhere were also making haste as they climbed on their horses.
“Chief!” Aidan’s voice was full of panic.
