Chapter Fifteen #2
It wasn’t quite an order, but it was close. “I certainly wouldn’t want to leave without thanking you for your hospitality,” he agreed mildly.
When he left the outer office, he found Andros and the other two soldiers waiting for him in the hallway. “I’d like to go see my men,” Finnvid told them. He realized he was talking mostly to Andros, hoping for some renewal of their familiarity. “Do I really need a larger contingent of guards?”
Andros shrugged. “Who’s after you?”
“I have no idea. No one, I hope.”
“If no one’s after you, you don’t need guards at all.” He looked over at the other soldiers. “I’d say we’re here to keep an eye on you, not to guard you.”
“Theos isn’t babysitting me anymore, so you are?”
Andros ignored the question. “Which means we’re probably enough, but if you want more, I can arrange it.”
“No, I don’t want more.” He wanted less.
Strange as it was, he wanted to go back in time, just a little.
The day of the festival had been good, walking through the city with Theos, sampling foods, talking .
. . and all the while, Finnvid’s duplicitous mind had been split between enjoying the present and planning for the future. Planning for his escape that night.
No. If he was going to go back in time, he’d go back to the day before they were captured, so he could change their route and avoid all the confusion and doubt that had come from spending time with his enemies.
But there was something in this idea that didn’t feel right.
Would he want to erase the time he’d spent with the Torians? With Theos?
The questions were a stupid distraction. He couldn’t go back in time; he could only go forward. He could get out of Windthorn and back to his old life and he could make himself forget the strange feelings. But the reeve had been right: he needed to finish his job here first.
By the time he and his escort arrived at the training yards, his men were gathered.
Finnvid gestured for the Torians to stay behind, and he approached his men alone.
He’d caught glimpses of them training with the regular soldiers as he’d worked under Theos’s direction, but he’d rarely gotten close.
And they’d been returned to the pens every night, locked up after their efforts while he bathed and ate hot meals.
As they saw him approach, they clearly realized something was going on, and when he drew close enough for them to notice his new clothes, he saw several nods of approval. Torians might like their leaders down in the dirt with them, but Elkati preferred that distinctions be maintained.
At least, some of them did. A few of the others looked a little less happy to see him in his changed state. He ignored their reactions for the moment, and strode forward to grasp Gunnald’s forearm in greeting.
The old man beamed at him. “About time,” he said gruffly. “What’d you have to do to free us?”
Nothing. Finnvid had done nothing. The one time Finnvid had tried to stage an escape, he’d gotten one of his men killed.
Killed by Theos, he reminded himself. He needed to remember that sort of thing. And he needed to pay attention to the current conversation. “I didn’t have to do much,” he admitted, but he made it sound like he was joking. “I think they were just glad to be rid of you.”
“Tired of us showing them up at their training,” Gunnald said.
“That must be it.” Finnvid moved then, circulating among the men in greeting, and checking on their health.
“They took good care of us,” Hrodi said. “And the training?” He looked at his fellows and shook his head in amazement. “We need to take their system back with us. There’s so much more we could be doing.”
“You think anyone at home would put up with all that?” Nasi demanded. “We were forced to do it, and their recruits are brainwashed into it. But no sane, free man would train as hard as these Torians do.”
“I guess that’s why they’re the best,” replied Hrodi. “While we’re . . . What are we? Just soldiers, and not even for a good army.”
“Enough,” Gunnald barked, as if he was used to breaking up this sort of debate.
Apparently Finnvid wasn’t the only one whose perspective had been changed by his time with the Torians.
Gunnald continued, “Your prince is here, and he doesn’t want to hear that sort of disloyalty.
” He turned back and said, “Is there a plan, sir? Have you heard from your brother?”
“No message,” Finnvid said. “But, yes, the beginning of a plan.” He raised his voice enough to address all the men.
“I need your opinions, though. We’ve been offered hospitality here for the winter .
. . to an extent. Apparently they’re low on space.
I offered to have us camp out, though I expect they’ll come up with something a bit better than that, if they’re given a little time.
The other option is to head for home. It’s a horrible time of year, but .
. .” He lowered his voice. “We Elkati have our secrets.”
“We could be home by the late-winter holidays,” one man said, amazement in his voice.
“Or frozen in a snowbank until spring thaw,” another countered.
“I may not be able to give you the choice,” Finnvid said with sufficient volume to regain their attention. “I’m still working through things with the Torians. But think about it, and if you have a preference, be ready to share it if I ask you.”
The men nodded, and Finnvid gestured with his chin, drawing Gunnald away from the others.
“May not have been wise to give them the choice, sir,” Gunnald said when they were safely out of hearing range. “Once you let them think for themselves, they don’t like to stop doing it. Generally better to tell them rather than ask them. Sir.”
Finnvid knew that was the Elkati way. The way he’d been raised, and more importantly, the way the men had been raised.
But surely they’d all seen Theos interacting with his men.
There had been some orders, certainly, yet there had also been comradeship and consultation.
Finnvid squinted at Gunnald and thought about bringing all that up.
Instead he nodded. “I thought I’d give it a try,” he said.
“But . . . I hope they want to go. The political situation here is unstable. I think we should lay a foundation of partnership with all parties and then get out before we’re forced to choose sides or get too deeply involved.
We can come back in the spring and see who’s in charge. ”
“And they’ll let us leave?” Gunnald asked skeptically.
“Most of them seem thrilled by the possibility. I don’t find them a terribly political people, at least not compared to our intrigues. While I’m here they’re forced to think about things they’d rather ignore; much easier to send me home with messages of tentative friendship.”
Gunnald still didn’t look convinced. “They’re Torians. All they know is war. ‘Tentative friendship’ is not part of their mindset.”
“I don’t think they’re as warlike as we’ve been led to believe,” Finnvid said.
“And it seems like they’ve got quite a few serious internal issues they’re trying to sort out; when they’ve got that resolved we might be in trouble again, but at least we’ll have bought ourselves some time.
We can start the training the men were discussing, build our defenses—from the sound of things, the Torian Empire still expands on its borders, but there isn’t much support from the center anymore.
Some soldiers are sent from the western front to the east, apparently, but the main government is more or less out of the conquering business; it’s mostly individual valleys doing the work now.
So there isn’t really one single Torian mindset, not in the way we’ve always thought. ”
“This is what they told you? And you believe them?” Gunnald scoffed.
Finnvid bit back harsh words. Gunnald was a valuable family adviser, sent along to support Finnvid on his first mission. He’d known Finnvid since he was a baby, and maybe he still thought of him that way. Annoying, but not worth getting angry about. “Can you think of a reason for them to lie?”
“So we distract ourselves trying to promote peace while they arrange a surprise attack.”
“Torians aren’t known for their subtlety. They generally give lots of warning of their attacks; did you realize that more than a third of the time valleys surrender without a fight?”
“We won’t surrender without a fight, and they know that.”
“They also know we post sentries all through the mountains on our side of the border in marching season. They could sneak a few men by, probably, but a full attack-force? No, not with only a few possible paths for them to take.” This felt right.
“I appreciate your caution, Gunnald, but I don’t think they’re planning a surprise attack.
And if they were, surely they’d be more likely to kill us all than to send us home to join the defense forces. ”
Gunnald didn’t seem to have a counter argument.
Finnvid was just about to turn the conversation toward the practicalities of a winter trip home when he noticed a familiar shape looming from the crowd of Torians jogging past. Even among the physically masterful Sacrati, there was something about Theos that made him stand out.
He was tall, but not the tallest; his shoulders were wide, but not the widest. Yet somehow he seemed to be more than all the others.
More intense, more vital, more . . . something Finnvid couldn’t put in words.
But he couldn’t deny its impact on him either.
He hadn’t even realized he’d stepped forward until he felt Gunnald’s fingers wrap around his biceps and pull him back.
Still, the Sacrati had seen him. Several of them gave him smiles, others looked at him and then over at Theos, as if waiting for a reaction.
But Theos gave them nothing. He gave Finnvid nothing. His eyes stayed locked on the path ahead and his body didn’t slow. He ran right by, as if Finnvid didn’t even exist.
Finnvid stared after them, and then Gunnald tossed an arm over his shoulders. “You’ll get past it,” he said comfortingly. “The best thing to do is forget about the whole thing. Whatever that animal did, it’s nothing to do with you.”
“He did nothing,” Finnvid protested.
Gunnald nodded. “Good. Yes. He did nothing.”
Finnvid didn’t argue anymore. “What would we need to travel safely?” he asked instead. Better to focus on practical matters. There was nothing to be done about Theos.