Deliberation
When the Souna realized the Idallik Knights were inbound, they left so fast it almost seemed like magic of their own.
Kai stayed.
Math stood there, awkward and uncertain—unsure whether he’d be arrested or attacked—feeling out of tune with his life.
He didn’t know who he looked more like now: a soldier, a prisoner, or a ghost of both.
Not long ago, he would’ve come in riding on those same horses, wearing the symbol, bearing the same confidence.
And now, none of that was true.
At Nuhzar’s insistence, Math helped the man to his feet to greet the knights. He stood slightly behind and to the right—this time for two reasons: first, to avoid seeming like a threat, and second, in case Nuhzar collapsed.
The knights noticed Math. Immediately, they tensed.
“It’s fine,” Nuhzar said. “He’s in my custody.”
“But Captain, isn’t he—?”
Nuhzar’s tone turned sharp. “He single-handedly killed that grimmock and saved my life. If he wanted to escape us, he would have left. We need a horse for him. Did you bring spares?”
The knight was taken aback for a moment, but then straightened in her saddle. “Yes, Captain, but—” Her eyes landed on Kai. “Who’s this?”
Nuhzar grimaced. “Oh, right. I almost forgot.” He snapped his fingers and pointed at Kai. “What’s your name again?”
Kai hesitated for a brief moment, and then said, “Xiscu.”
Math managed not to choke. Xiscu had been the name of Kai’s horse. It meant “trouble.”
“This is Xiscu. She’s a local tribal shaman. I’ve convinced her to come back with us and give witness before the Council.” He sighed. “She’ll need a horse, too.”
The woman bowed and left to find those spare horses.
Another knight rode forward. Math knew just from the way the woman carried herself that this was also a captain.
Of course the Order would’ve sent one to check on Nuhzar’s group when they had failed to report back.
The pin on her cloak was the wheat sheaths and roads of a Captain of Fields, which meant that she was responsible for shortening the journey.
Math wondered if she was from the closest cenobium, or from Bashan itself.
“Tri-Mother help us,” she muttered. “What happened here?”
“That.” Captain Nuhzar gestured toward the still-bleeding corpse of the grimmock hanging off the broken rail lines like meat on a butcher’s hook.
“I suspect the vibration of the machines working to fix the track caught its attention. These trains didn’t crash as much as they were thrown.
Unfortunately, the attack caught us off guard. ”
“Very skilled ambusher,” Kai said, adopting the patchwork accent of someone unfamiliar with Ginren. “That monster has raided our herds for weeks. Killed anyone who came too close.”
The woman frowned at Kai, although not in an unfriendly fashion. More like Kai had presented her an interesting challenge. Whatever her conclusion, the woman nodded in acknowledgment of Kai’s words and then turned back to Captain Nuhzar. “What about the rest of your unit?”
Captain Nuhzar glanced toward the grimmock’s body. “Eaten. As I almost was.”
The other captain’s eyes narrowed. It wasn’t difficult to tell that she was coming to unflattering conclusions about Nuhzar’s survival.
Nuhzar didn’t leave off there, however. “Now we must return to Bashan as quickly as possible, because we’ve discovered a threat which must be reported immediately.”
“What kind of threat?” the captain questioned, sparing another glance at the giant grimmock corpse.
“A grim lord.”
Everyone stopped talking.
She regarded the Captain of Swords sternly. “Are you serious?”
“I have never been more serious about anything.” Nuhzar didn’t once glance at Math or Kai, didn’t once indicate that this was anything less than absolute fact.
A strange expression came over the woman then. Math might have almost described it as excitement. She gestured to one of her people. “Bring some horses for our brothers. We ride for Bashan.”
“Kudawan,” Nuhzar corrected. “If you wouldn’t mind. I’d prefer to clean up before we reach Bashan.”
She scoffed. “Sure, and who knows? Maybe you’ll be a rebel and actually let a knight of Mending tend your wounds. Frankly, I’ll be surprised if you can even stay in the saddle for the trip. On that note…” She raised her voice: “Where’s our healer? We’ve got a live one over here.”
She was observant, at least.
Math kept his expression passive. He didn’t look at Kai. He didn’t betray his thoughts.
He could only pray.
Math was quiet for most of the ride back to Kudawan.
The captain’s movement spell was sedate, as such things went.
The horses kicked up sand as they traveled, even though there was no sand to be found anywhere nearby—and hadn’t been for centuries.
He didn’t know how to speak to anyone without risking some horrible secret or heresy slipping out.
He especially didn’t know how to talk to Kai. He wasn’t sure if she was avoiding him.
He suspected she was.
“The children are fine, by the way.”
Math raised his head to see that Alik Nuhzar had pulled his horse up next to him. “Are they?”
Alik’s left eye twitched. “I think so. The oldest boy—Jaiik?—I saw him briefly before I rode back out, chasing after you.” He stared ahead across the open plain, not looking at Math. “No one was crying.”
“Is that your only yardstick? Are they crying?”
“No,” Nuhzar answered. “Of course not. I made sure none of them were injured.”
Math resisted the urge to roll his eyes skyward. Still, knowing the children had survived unscathed was a relief.
And thinking about them was easier than thinking about Kai.
“You’ll find out for yourself, soon enough.”
Math paused. “I will?”
“They’ve all been moved to Bashan. Your sister, too. You’ll see them when we arrive.”
“That’s good.” Math nodded, maybe a little too firmly. “I’d like that.”
But the words felt like a borrowed truth—something he was supposed to say, not something he fully believed. Something in his tone must have struck Nuhzar wrong.
“Do you want to return to the Order?”
“What kind of question is that? I’m here.”
“You’re here to warn our leaders about not just one, but three dire threats. That’s not the same as wanting to rejoin our ranks.”
Math’s heartbeat picked up. “Is rejoining even an option?”
“Perhaps. If we can confirm your claim about Sanistral. If Talu’s reasons for expelling you prove unjust. If your warnings about the tree people—”
“The Parnathi.”
“The Parnathi. Fine. If these warnings hold water, you manifested your weapon and comported yourself with distinction. You saved an Idallik captain’s life.” He hesitated. “You saved my life.”
Math glanced at him. “You didn’t strain yourself saying that, did you?”
“Feels like I cracked a rib,” Nuhzar answered, deadpan. His next breath was shallow enough to back it up. “What I’m saying is, if you prove under oath that you’re not a traitor, I’ll see you knighted. If you want it.”
Math’s throat turned dry.
It was everything he’d ever wanted—everything he’d worked for, dreamed of. “Of course I want that.” The words left his mouth before he could stop them.
He wasn’t lying. But it wasn’t the whole truth. He no longer wanted only that. It had been his only goal for so long, what he’d chased after his whole life. And now he’d known this woman for less than a week and suddenly …
Nuhzar wasn’t looking at him. Math followed his stare. Perhaps unpredictably, it ended at Kai. Math had a feeling he knew why Nuhzar might not think his claim was serious.
“It would help your testimony if you made it as an Idallik Knight, and not a novitiate,” Nuhzar said, still staring at the graven wizard.
“I imagine so, yes. And Alik—” Math stopped himself. “I mean, Captain, you should know that when Sanistral was bragging about his schemes, he mentioned ‘doing something’ about the Idallik Knights. We’re not bystanders in this. We’re targets. So yes, I want to be a knight.”
“Good to know.” Finally, the man stopped staring at Kai and focused his attention on Math, the road, their destination. “I’ll help make your case in Bashan.”
With that, he nudged his horse forward, riding back toward the front of the column. Math watched him go, unease curling behind his ribs. He didn’t know if he’d made the right choice.
He only knew it was made.
Alik Nuhzar continued to treat him with that gruff, hard-edged kindness Math didn’t know how to accept.
Never one for soft words or easy smiles, Nuhzar made sure Math had time to visit a bathing chamber, to shave, and to transform himself into something closer to what a member of the Idallik Order ought to look like.
A cheerful young novitiate—who likely had no idea Math’s standing was anything but pristine—brought him clean clothing, socks, and new boots.
Yes, Nuhzar hammered on the door and shouted for him to hurry before he’d even finished dressing, but he hadn’t needed to give Math the chance to clean up.
He could’ve made him ride into Bashan looking like he’d rolled through dirt and blood.
Then again, Nuhzar would’ve looked the same, and this gave him the excuse to see different healers before reporting to the capital.
If Math tried to thank him, he was sure Nuhzar would blame it on the local captains being too soft.
Math didn’t mention it.
The trip back was fast. This time, their horses all turned to fiery hues, hooves sparking against the road with every step, each strike ringing out like a hammer against a forge.
The sound made conversation impossible—and for once, Math was grateful.
He wasn’t ready to talk to Kai. Coward that he was, he felt torn in too many directions.
They reached Bashan in record time.