Chapter Eight #2
The man drew closer, and wrapped an arm around Theos’s shoulders. “I would consider it a personal favor, soldier.”
“Sacrati,” Theos said with quiet intensity, stepping out of the man’s half-embrace. “And I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not willing to give him up yet. I’d be pleased to help you in another way, if I could be of service.”
“I’m not making myself clear, soldier.” The warlord had given up the pretense of comradeship. “I want the Elkati. Now.”
“Under what authority would you take him from me, sir?”
“Under my authority, by the sword!”
“Sir, I don’t believe you have the authority to confiscate personal property. Do you?”
“Is this what Sacrati have become? Rule-quoters? Little boys hiding behind laws?”
“I’d be more than pleased to face you as a Sacrati, sir. Armed combat or hand-to-hand, whichever you chose. Sacrati are now, as they have always been, warriors. And we fight for the Empire, and the rules and traditions of the Torian people.” Theos’s voice was tight with controlled anger.
“You don’t understand what’s going on here, soldier.”
“You’re right, sir. I have no idea what’s going on. If you want to explain it to me, maybe I can try to be more helpful. But as it is . . .”
“Do you really want to make me into your enemy?”
“No, sir. I don’t want that at all.”
“But you’re not going to sell me the Elkati.”
“No, sir. He’s not for sale.”
The warlord glared at him a moment longer, then turned and stalked away.
Theos exhaled roughly. He just wanted to be a warrior. He wanted to fight the enemies of the Torian Empire and find victory for his people. Instead . . . this.
Soldiers were streaming out of the dining hall now, and Theos spotted Andros and jerked his chin toward one of the courtyard gates. Finnvid followed Andros, cringing like a puppy who expected to be scolded.
“Why does the warlord want you?” Theos demanded as soon as they were close enough to speak.
Finnvid’s eyes widened but he didn’t say anything. Theos waited. “I don’t know,” Finnvid finally replied.
“You’re lying.” Theos said it conversationally.
The sky was blue, winter was coming, and Finnvid the Elkati was telling lies.
Nothing to be surprised about. “I told him no. Made him angry, which was not part of my career plan. And that was my decision, so I’m not holding you responsible for it.
But it would be nice to know why I just threw away the respect of one of the leaders of the valley.
I refused his reasonable request, made him angry . . . for what, Elkati?”
Finnvid just shook his head, his mouth closed in a thin, stubborn line.
Theos turned to Andros. “Can you babysit him today? We’ll have to figure something else out when you’re well enough to train again, but for today?”
Andros nodded. He looked almost as upset as Theos, though it all seemed to be making him more sad than angry. “You ready?” he asked Finnvid, who nodded and followed along, obedient for once.
Theos took himself to the drilling yards and worked with a group of new recruits before joining the Sacrati for unarmed combat drills.
It felt good to be doing something physical, something with a clear goal and an obvious way to reach it.
He ate lunch with the rest of the soldiers, and by midafternoon he’d tired himself out enough to think calmly again.
Of course, calmness didn’t do him much good when he didn’t have sufficient facts to work with.
So instead of taking a break with the rest of the soldiers, he jogged up the hill to the command building and knocked on the captain’s open door.
Galen was inside, standing behind the seated captain as they worked on papers at the desk.
They both looked up at the knock and then at each other, a silent communication with a message Theos couldn’t begin to guess.
“I was hoping to speak to you about the Elkati prisoners, sir.”
Tamon nodded. “You have some concerns,” he said quietly. “You think the interrogation was inadequate and the true story is not what we were told.”
“I’m not sure the interrogation happened at all. The true story is definitely not what you were told. And I think the warlord—”
Tamon held up a hand. “Careful, Sacrati. Careful what you say, for it cannot be unsaid.”
“I don’t need to unsay it, as long as it’s the truth.”
“How charmingly naive you are.”
Theos didn’t try to deflect the words. “I don’t understand what’s going on, that’s certain. But I know something is.”
The captain nodded again and stood up from behind his desk, coming to stand next to Theos with a tired smile.
“We know it, too,” he said. “And we’re doing what we can.
But Sacrati . . . We’re in a delicate situation.
The balance of power between the warlord and us has grown very, very fragile.
We’re being careful not to push too hard, and so far, so’s the warlord.
But we can’t be sure how long he’ll keep the peace.
Everyone’s stuck in this valley for the next five months or more.
Until the spring comes, we can expect no outside help, and have no real way to escape.
Can you see why that makes it important that we all get along? ”
“It’s that bad?” Theos wasn’t sure he believed any of it.
“We’re still figuring things out,” Galen said. “But, yes. Potentially, it’s that bad.”
“So I . . . ignore it? I don’t know about the big picture. I’m not good at ideas, or big strategies. If we’re trying not to anger the warlord, should I just give him the Elkati spy?” Theos tried to ignore his gut’s reaction to that idea.
“The damage has been done, there; the warlord is angry, but he hasn’t exploded. So we should maintain the current situation, which means the Elkati should stay with you until we figure out why he’s important. Keep an eye on him, and keep him safe.”
Theos shook his head. “I should have just walked away,” he said, mostly to himself.
“Too late now,” Galen responded. “You own him; you need to take care of him.”
“Don’t suppose either of you is looking for a bedwarmer?”
Tamon snorted. “I’ve got enough troubles of my own; I’m not taking on yours.” He gripped Theos’s shoulder. “Keep an eye on him, Sacrati. That’s an order.”
Theos couldn’t think of any way out of it.
So he nodded his understanding, if not his approval, and left the office.
He was halfway down the square on the way to the practice yards when he heard an unfamiliar sound, or perhaps his warrior’s instinct kicked in .
. . something made him turn around and look at the headquarters building.
Even from a distance, there was no mistaking the blond hair and pale skin of the figure striding away from the building and back toward the barracks.
Finnvid was supposed to be with Andros, but here he was, marching out of the headquarters building, prancing about as if he owned the whole valley.
What in the name of a rust-stained sword was the Elkati up to? Who had he been meeting with, and what had been said?
Theos wanted to run after the boy and grab hold of him, beat him until he spoke the truth, and find out what was really going on.
But Galen and Tamon had made it clear that Theos was stuck with the Elkati, and they’d given him no instructions about interrogation.
They hadn’t expressly forbidden it, of course . . .
He tried to imagine striking the boy. In anger, maybe. But as part of a cold, purposeful interrogation? He could do it if necessary, he supposed. He didn’t want to, though, not at all.
So he swallowed his frustration and made himself continue down to the drill yards. His mind might be confused and useless, but his body? His body would fight. It was all it knew to do.