Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Krujha
The more they talked, the more certain Krujha became of two things.
First, Alwyn truly was here to complete his mission because he had never considered doing anything other than exactly what he was told.
Second, something in Krujha wanted to push the elf to think for himself; and even more than that, he wanted to keep Alwyn safe.
It was an absurd feeling to have, especially about an elf trained to kill with his magic.
It was like looking at a rabid razorfang cat and wanting to protect it.
The smart thing to do would have been to keep a close eye on Alwyn, while still keeping him at arm’s length.
Instead, he relished the time they spent together and took every opportunity to be around the little assassin.
When Alwyn had taken his suggestion about making his magic smaller to heart, and it seemed to actually help him, Krujha had no explanation for the warm curl of satisfaction that rose in his belly in response.
He told himself that he was just happy his advice might keep the elf alive a little longer, so they could complete their mission and all have a better chance of survival. That was all it was. All it could be.
He was as lukewarm as ever about the rest of the elves, though Alwyn was really the only one he spent much individual time with.
That was changing the closer they got to the rebel camp.
With Gorza gone, Torlag had largely deferred to Krujha in most matters; so he became the de facto leader of at least the two of them, meaning any issues with the camp, or changes in duties, were brought to him.
Torlag came to him that morning, returning after just an hour or so of scouting ahead, with the report they had all been waiting for.
“I see signs of a camp a bit further west,” he said. “They’re on the move, but we should be able to catch up within a day or two.”
Krujha’s heart leapt up into his throat. This was it—the first step of their plan. They would join this rebel camp and determine if Zesh was there. If he was, they would extract him; and if not, they would find out where his camp was and move on.
“Lead the way,” he said, nodding. When he turned back to the elves trailing behind him, Galred was watching their exchange with obvious interest.
“He’s found signs of a camp on the move,” Krujha said, grinning at the elf. “We’ll catch up within a day or so.”
Galred nodded, a grim expression crossing his face. “Right on time, it seems.”
They veered westward, following the path Torlag had taken.
Before long, Krujha noticed the vast swathes of grass tamped down or shorn entirely, the remnants of campfires, and the deep grooves of many wagons following one after the other.
This was a camp large enough that it was impossible to hide, which he hoped meant that it was Zesh’s primary force, so the warlord would travel with it or else return soon.
The longer their little group had traveled together, the lighter the mood had grown.
What had been uncomfortable silence for the first day slowly became quiet chatter—mainly between the elves, but most of them were open to speaking with Krujha and Torlag as needed.
Mostly, it had become a comfortable background noise throughout the day, hearing them talking amongst themselves in elvish behind him.
Once the news had spread, though, that mood seemed to darken, reverting to the quiet and tense atmosphere that had dominated their group during their first days of travel together.
He supposed it made sense. It was hard not to feel nervous about their mission now that it was no longer some nebulous plan for the future. No one could ignore the signs of the camp they would need to infiltrate, and the danger that came with it surely felt far more present.
There would be no need to forage now that they were so close to the camp, and he didn’t want to risk a pair possibly running into hunters or foragers from the rebel side.
Alwyn trailed near the back of the group the whole day, so Krujha didn’t get the chance to talk to him until the sun was setting and they had found a suitable place to camp.
Understandably, the elf was not in a particularly good mood, knowing that they would arrive at the camp the next day. He shot Krujha that familiar, annoyed grimace when he approached the elf’s tent, but it didn’t deter the grin spreading around his tusks.
“Did you miss me?” Krujha teased. Alwyn huffed, tossing his head as he looked away, so his fair hair fell away from his eyes.
“Of course not,” he said, busying himself with his blankets. “It was nice not to have any chores today.”
Krujha chuckled. “Chores? Is that what you think of our time together? I like to think of it as quality bonding time.”
Alwyn’s cheeks flushed crimson at that, as he sputtered something in response. “Don’t—that isn’t—”
Krujha laughed aloud, seeing the elf so flustered. As he sat down on a stump, Alwyn again began to mutter in annoyance under his breath, turning away from him entirely, as if that would somehow get him to leave.
“Tomorrow’s a big day,” Krujha said, letting some of his jovial tone fall away, though he tried not to sound too grim, either. “Tell me your thoughts about all this.”
Alwyn had stilled at his words, clearly trying to mask the pensive expression now on his face. “What’s to tell?”
“Surely you must have an opinion on the best way to approach.”
A long silence stretched between them as Alwyn continued to set up his tent and his bedroll; but Krujha could see in his eyes that he was considering a response.
He was sure Alwyn would be aghast to know how expressive his face was, when he so clearly was trying to emulate the elven standard of stoic neutrality.
Krujha found it utterly charming—a welcome reprieve from the rest of the elves, who did a far better job at being outwardly stuffy and formal with him.
“I don’t have enough information to have an opinion,” Alwyn finally said. “So we need to observe as much as we can first, before trying to infiltrate. That way, we’ll have a better idea of how best not to get ourselves immediately killed.”
Krujha laughed, and the hint of a smile on Alwyn’s face only made him grin wider. It wasn’t exactly a joke, but coming from Alwyn, the words were lighthearted enough for Krujha to be amused. “That would be ideal, wouldn’t it?”
“It would.”
“Well, I’ll be discussing with Galred the best way to ensure our survival,” Krujha sighed.
“Hm.” Alwyn made a noncommittal noise in response.
“I would ask the others what they think, too, but none of them are as friendly as you are.”
Alwyn’s eyes narrowed, staring at Krujha in obvious confusion for a long moment—until Krujha couldn’t hold back the laugh that burst from his chest, and the elf scowled.
“I am too friendly to you,” he mumbled, turning away as Krujha stood, still laughing.
His conversation with Galred, after their group had eaten their supper—cold and dry rations, because a campfire would surely attract the eyes of nearby scouts—was much less lighthearted.
They sat in the center of the camp where a campfire might have been; instead, they were illuminated only by the dim, cool light of a few floating globules the elves had summoned after the sun set.
“I don’t think the full group should go in at once,” Krujha started.
“I agree,” Galred said, nodding, but added nothing else.
“So… I was thinking Torlag and one of the elves should go in,” Krujha continued after a beat.
“Whichever you think would be best suited to keeping their head down, and being able to gather information without arousing suspicion. If they don’t have any other elves in the camp, they would likely need to be comfortable being alone for a time as well, until Torlag can get a better beat on the camp. ”
Galred nodded, silent. Krujha waited, but the elf remained still.
He had to assume Galred was thinking about what he’d said, but his face was expressionless, giving him no hint as to what he was considering.
This was the part of working with elves that he didn’t like—how they purposely tried to have no personality nor opinion on anything.
It was why he liked being paired up with Alwyn.
Finally, though, Galred spoke. “Yes, I think sending a pair in to gather information, then reporting back to us would be best. My recommendation to go with Torlag would be Fionia.”
Krujha waited to see if he would elaborate on his reasoning, but he offered no other explanation.
“Well, then, Fionia it is,” he said, nodding. “Will you speak with her in the morning so she can be prepared?”
“Yes,” Galred said.
They sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment longer, then Krujha cleared his throat, nodded once, and stood.
“Glad we got that settled,” he said. “Sleep well.”
“Sleep well,” Galred echoed, rising in one graceful motion.
Krujha considered what he knew of the elves.
Galred was an instructor, likely the senior of the Order mages specifically.
This Order, from what he could gather from Alwyn’s brief mentions, was a sect of the Library that trained its members in assassination and spycraft; in all likelihood, it took an approach where the end always justified the means.
So why had Galred chosen Fionia? Like Alwyn, she was likely also a member of the Order: someone the older elf trusted above the other three Library mages.
As to why he chose her over Alwyn, he could only guess—but he assumed she had mastered the shielding practice that had so frustrated Alwyn, and so would have a better chance of survival if indeed this camp was capable of checking elven captives for signs of magic.
He wondered if Alwyn might be annoyed at being passed over, or relieved not to have to go into the camp alone; probably a mix of both, all things considered.