Ride
After an early breakfast, Math joined the other knights preparing to leave.
As one of the few who’d encountered these monsters before and survived, he tried to share what he could—the importance of avoiding the spores, the need for those with Land or Sea resonances to form barriers to block the stabbing vines and roots.
They didn’t take him seriously.
They’d heard the briefing and assumed it would be easy. If Isofal had struggled, it was just because they weren’t the Idallik’s best, not like the capital’s knights.
Math tried to warn them, but he had to wonder how many had already started hearing the chatter. That he was “unstable” and “inventing fantasies.” Idallik Knights were ruthless gossips—and their commanders were no better.
The preparations were efficient, orderly. The two commanders—one per battalion—quickly assembled their people. Math migrated toward Nuhzar, the only familiar face. If Nuhzar had looked ever-so-briefly relieved to see him, neither acknowledged it.
“I spoke to Kai last night,” Math whispered.
“Later,” Nuhzar said. “Not here.”
Math pressed his lips together. He understood the caution, but Nuhzar needed to know what he’d discovered. “Damn it, listen. It’s going to be worse than I thought. By several orders of magnitude.” He nudged his borrowed horse back into line for Bashan’s Captain of Fields to work his magic.
He heard Nuhzar’s soft curse, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. There was a strict set of procedures to be followed. Math could no more step out of line than Nuhzar could jump ahead.
Then Math heard Nuhzar say, “Do you mind? I need to speak with my lieutenant.”
The rider next to Math shifted aside, letting Nuhzar take her place.
Math gaped. “What are you doing?”
“Weren’t you listening? I’m speaking with my lieutenant.”
Math wished he could talk to people the same way he hoped he could talk to the Queens. Then he could’ve shouted, What in the name of all that’s holy do you think you’re doing? You can’t make me a lieutenant—I haven’t even been knighted! without anyone else reacting.
Alas, all he could do was glare.
Before he figured out a real response, the commanders called out the order to ride. Math urged his horse into a magical canter, and they were off.
“I was surprised to see you back at the cenobium this morning,” Nuhzar said as they rode, because evidently this was one of those rides where conversation was possible. “After you snuck off to see your woman, I figured you wouldn’t return.”
“She’s not my woman and I’m not a coward.”
Nuhzar gave him a sidelong look. “If you’re not a coward, maybe stop lying to yourself about that first part.”
“Don’t you want to know what she said?”
“Do you always ask stupid questions first thing in the morning?”
Math rolled his eyes. “They don’t just rip people apart out of a love of gore, Captain. They do it because it splits the ‘seed’ into more pieces they can use to grow more people.”
Nuhzar scowled. “What? I don’t understand—”
“Huraiik’s death didn’t create one plant copy of him. It made half a dozen. I was wrong: he wasn’t healing. I was just running into his twins.”
Math hadn’t realized that Nuhzar could curse like that, and he’d seen the man’s reaction to finding frogs nesting in his helmet, or that time with the snakes.
“If we talk to the commanders…” Math began.
“They won’t call off the attack on your word today any more than they would’ve yesterday.”
Nuhzar said nothing else for the rest of the ride.
Admittedly, it wasn’t a long ride. The Parnassa Forest stretched from south of Bashan through Valmaki County and into Kaliri. Soon enough, they were dismounting. Two hundred men and women made quick work unloading horses and wagons as they set up camp.
It was too close to the forest, Math noted. Far too close.
He tried to catch Nuhzar’s attention, but the captain either didn’t see him or ignored him—too absorbed in talks with the commanders.
Eventually, Math was forced to interrupt. “I need to speak with my captain.”
Once they’d moved a short distance away, Nuhzar said, “What?”
“Assign me as a scout,” Math said. “I’ll try to talk to the Queens and convince them not to attack.”
Nuhzar grabbed him by his cloak and dragged him farther from camp. “Stop,” he hissed. “Think carefully before telling me you can communicate with those monsters. Especially, don’t tell me you can plan to go off alone and have a private conversation right before a battle.”
“You know I won’t betray you.” Math yanked his cloak free.
“Do I?” Nuhzar was red-faced with indignation. “At best, you’ll give away our position—no matter how well-intentioned. At worst, the Queens will ambush you and send you back as an actual plant.” He paused, expression bemused, and then looked visibly embarrassed.
“Take the win, Alik,” Math said matter-of-factly. “That was a good pun.”
“I didn’t intend it.”
“And you call me a coward? Always intend your puns.”
“I’ve never called you a coward. Also: I hate you.”
“Right back at you.”
Nuhzar said nothing for a long beat, then: “If we took out the Queens, would it be enough? Would the rest fall back—or even die?”
“I don’t know,” Math answered honestly. “Maybe? But do you really think that’s going to happen?”
“I took your warning last night to heart. Yes, I think it could. Never underestimate an Idallik Knight’s determination.”
Something about the way Nuhzar said that …
Math spun and studied the expanding camp.
Why were they making camp at all? A few tents for a field hospital, maybe—but this looked large enough to supply a protracted siege. Yet he didn’t see any palisades or fortifications. Just a massive command tent in the center of camp.
A steady stream of knights were unloading wagons at the entrance, and—
Math squinted, and just as quickly, felt the blood drain from his face.
They were unloading crates of bombard mines.
“How much—?” He couldn’t even finish the question.
Apparently, he didn’t need to. “Enough, we hope,” Nuhzar said. “It’ll be enough, right? Normally we’d bury the mines, but it seemed safer to keep the powder off the ground.”
Math started to tell Nuhzar that he’d better make sure knights were on hand to protect the tent from lightning strikes, from hail, from elemental magics, but Nuhzar must have already thought of that. That did, however, bring up a much more horrifying issue.
“No,” Math said. “You can’t. The Queens are smart. You won’t lure them out of hiding so easily. That tent has to look important. It has to look busy.” He paused. “Which means they’ll still be in there when it explodes—”
He saw the look on Nuhzar’s face and knew he’d guessed correctly—and it was nothing that Nuhzar didn’t already know.
“The commanders … the commanders agreed?” Math asked, his voice hollow.
Nuhzar’s lip curled. “You were never meant to be an Idallik Knight. I knew it when you refused to kill those monsters back in Ganda.”
“Children, Alik. When I refused to kill those children back in Ganda.” Math struggled to keep his voice down, his jaw tight with the effort.
“Monsters that haven’t grown up yet are still monsters. You’ve never been willing to make the necessary sacrifices.”
“I’m perfectly willing to make the necessary sacrifices,” Math corrected. “Key word being necessary.” He pointed to the tent. “This isn’t.”
“So you’ve said.” Nuhzar’s voice dripped with contempt.
It was as if the past week just hadn’t happened—like he’d regressed back into the man who only ever seemed happy when trying to convince Mathaiik to quit the Order.
“That doesn’t change the fact that you’ve never had the stomach for this.
I don’t trust you not to do something foolish. ”
“Captain, what are you talking about?” Math cursed himself. He’d been too friendly, too open. He’d made the horrible, irrecoverable mistake of thinking that Nuhzar was on his side.
“I want you out of this camp, and I want it to have happened five minutes ago.” Nuhzar pulled a sealed letter and a messenger token out of his belt, shoving both into Math’s hands.
“Take a horse and ride back to Bashan. Deliver this to Commander Liradda. Lest your curiosity get the better of you, it’s a request for more bombard powder.
Just in case we didn’t bring enough. That way I get my supplies, and you can’t make trouble. ”
Math stared down at the letter. It was spiral-locked and wax-sealed.
Captain Nuhzar leaned forward. “As your commanding officer, Lieutenant, I’m giving you a direct order.”
Math was sure that if he hesitated any longer, Nuhzar would tie him to a saddle and send him off that way.
“Yes, sir.” Math’s jaw trembled with anger. He was struggling not to say something reckless. This felt like betrayal, and it hurt more than he would have thought possible.
It made him angrier than he’d thought possible.
He’d trusted Nuhzar, and the Tri-Mother knew how many would die as a result, all to kill creatures who likely would’ve left them alone if the fine people of Rokasmaa had done the same.
For a moment, Math considered disobeying, trying to reach the Queens on his own. But it would be a nightmare of dodging patrols, hoping to find the Parnathi before either side found him.
And that didn’t guarantee the Queens would help. Math wasn’t fool enough to try a stunt on his own.
But maybe he wouldn’t have to. Kai was somewhere on the road—he just had to find her.
“Get that look off your face,” Nuhzar snapped. “I want you out of my sight.”
“Yes, sir.”
Math stomped his way to the pickets and reclaimed his borrowed horse. They hadn’t even unsaddled him yet.
He set off—ostensibly for Bashan, but in truth, to find Kai.