Sacrati

Chapter Twenty-Three #2

“We know enough to make some good decisions,” Finnvid objected.

“We know the warlord’s letter is full of lies, and he wanted us to do his dirty work for him.

” He left out any recriminating comments about just how easily Alrik had fallen into that trap, and tried not to think about the tragic results of his brother’s mistake.

“So surely we can decide not to work with him anymore, can’t we?

We can decide that his enemies are our friends? ”

“We know not to trust him,” Alrik agreed. “But, Finn . . . remember our ultimate goal here. We’re not trying to solve the problems of the Torian Empire. We just want to look after Elkat.”

The idea brought Finnvid up short. Alrik was right, of course. Alrik was thinking like a king, a good king, putting the interests of his people first. “But what does that mean? How do we do that?”

“We back the winner.” Alrik sounded a little sad, but only a little, and his voice was more energetic as he added, “We aren’t looking to make friends with the Torians. We aren’t even looking at them as allies. We just want to be left alone.”

“Will the winner do that? Or will he finish up in Windthorn and then look around for his next challenge? If we’re not friends or allies, how do we ensure that we’ll be left alone long-term?”

“We make our allies on the other side. The other valleys, the ones not yet under Torian control. We’ve started the process.

We have treaties in place, but no one has built their armies enough, not to face a threat like this.

If the Torians attacked, even just one valley of Torians, we’d have trouble defending ourselves.

But every day we hold them off matters. We only started working on this a couple years ago, and we’ve already got several valleys willing to stand with us.

If we can last another few years, especially if the Torians are weakening themselves with infighting, we’ll have more allies, more troops, and a much better chance. ”

It made sense, but it also made Finnvid’s skin crawl. The Torians weren’t an abstraction to him, not any longer. They were living, breathing, kissing, fucking people. They weren’t the horde. Were they?

“What if we could do something more?” he asked.

“What if we could find some sort of common ground with the Torians? Their science is weak—they only learn from within the empire, without really talking to anyone outside. When they conquer new territory, the learning stays in that valley instead of spreading as it should. Their music, their art—it’s very limited.

But I think they’d enjoy those things if they had the chance.

And maybe we could learn from them, too.

” Probably not a great time to discuss economic equality, but surely there were other contributions the Torians could make.

“On the trip here, they built simple structures of snow to sleep in. Nothing too impressive, in terms of engineering, but none of us knew how to do it. We would have frozen to death if they hadn’t shared their knowledge. ”

“You did get close to them.” It didn’t feel like an accusation, not like it did when their mother said it.

“I lived with them for months. And they treated us well. It was all based on their assumption that every living human would want to become a part of the Torian Empire, but once you get past that, they were kind. And honestly . . .” This part was probably a mistake.

Probably not something Finnvid should be saying right then, or maybe ever.

But this was his brother, and he wanted to be as honest as he could.

“Have you ever heard of a valley revolting after it’s been taken over by the Torians?

I never have. And do you know why? It’s because they get rid of the few people who will never agree to their ways—the royals, the nobles.

They kill us or send us back east, I think.

But for everyone else? The peasants, struggling to find food to eat and somewhere warm for the winter?

They feed them, and give them clothes and beds.

They expect work in exchange, of course, but we expect that too, and give less in return.

For most people—” No, Finnvid wasn’t stupid enough to complete that sentence, not even with Alrik.

This wasn’t the time to point out that for most people, things were better under Torian rule than under independence.

So he shrugged to show it wasn’t a matter he would pursue.

“They gave us chances, and they were patient.” He remembered Theos’s frequent bouts of frustration and smiled despite himself.

“Well, not always patient. But always kind.” Was that true?

“Never cruel.” He could stand behind that statement, at least.

“So you aren’t their enemy.” Alrik sounded too casual. “You’d like to be their friend.” He smiled gently, as if inviting a confidence. “All of them, or one of them in particular?”

The hair on the back of Finnvid’s neck stood on end.

This was a trap. He had no idea what would happen to him if he fell into it, but he had a pretty good idea what would happen to Theos.

“I spent more time with some than with others,” he admitted.

“One of them—” He stopped, wondering what Andros was up to and whether it would be wise to mention his presence to Alrik.

“There was one who didn’t come all the way with us.

But his name is Andros, and he’s . . . We think of Torians as being ill-humored, but he’s not, at all. Andros was a good friend.”

“Andros.” Alrik looked surprised. “What about the one we’ve captured? The one who thought he owned you?”

“Theos?” Finnvid forced a shrug. “I think he has good intentions. Not quite as smart as Andros, maybe; less aware of the larger world. He was almost completely unable to admit that Torians aren’t the best at every single thing. But he wasn’t a problem.”

“Mother said—” Alrik frowned before continuing. “She was worried. She thought you’d . . . She said you might have ‘formed an unnatural attachment’ to him.”

Finnvid couldn’t help himself. He schooled his face to innocence and said, “‘Unnatural’? What do you mean?”

“She didn’t say,” Alrik said stiffly.

“Oh. Well . . .” Finnvid reflected for a moment and realized he could say it honestly. “No. Nothing unnatural, I don’t think.”

“But you still want him alive?”

“Well, yes. He was good to me. And more importantly, I think he could be useful.”

They left it at that. Finnvid thought about asking to see Theos; he could visit the Elkat soldiers injured in the battle as well, and offer his healing skills, such as they were, to everyone.

Unfortunately, the queen mother remained a factor.

Finnvid had ensured that she was busy elsewhere when he’d asked for his brother’s time, but he knew she’d still hear about the conversation, just as she’d hear about anything else that happened in the castle.

She always knew everything, eventually. And she was much harder to fool than Alrik.

If Finnvid slipped, even just a little .

. . if he let his fingers linger on Theos’s arm with no reason, if he looked too often or too long in the wrong direction, if he did anything to suggest an attachment, she would know about it. He couldn’t take the chance.

“You should see the tailors,” Alrik said just before Finnvid reached the office exit. He turned, and Alrik smiled fondly at him. “Your shirts don’t fit anymore.”

Finnvid moved his shoulders. He’d noticed the tightness when he’d dressed and had dismissed it as part of adjusting to tailored Elkat shirts after wearing loose tunics for so long.

But now he looked down to see the shoulder seam threatening to burst, and realized that the fabric was tight around his biceps as well.

Everywhere, really; a shirt that had once been loose was now filled past capacity.

“Torian training,” he said, forcing himself not to think about Theos and his demands on the training grounds. “I’ll remedy the situation.”

“We need to look like royals and play the part our people expect,” Alrik said.

That wasn’t something Finnvid could afford to argue with right then, so he obediently went to the tailors, and spent the afternoon wearing one of Alrik’s shirts, itself a little on the small side.

He ate dinner that night with his mother and Alrik and Alrik’s pregnant wife, making appropriate comments about the coming heir and trying to think of a way to sneak off.

But his mother was watching him as intently as a hunting falcon.

Finnvid was the rabbit, currently under cover; as soon as he moved he’d be spotted and doomed.

Only in this case it wasn’t Finnvid the rabbit who’d be in trouble, it was Theos the wolf.

So Finnvid stayed still, and then went to bed like a good boy, and the next morning he managed to subtly ask his brother for news of the Sacrati prisoner and was told that he was recovering well and had been moved out of the storeroom.

“Oh, really?” Finnvid tried to sound unconcerned. “Where have you stashed him now?”

“They found somewhere easier to guard him. Now that he’s stronger, they wanted him more securely chained.”

“Alrik, he’s a man, not a god. He can’t break chains.”

“He got those chains wrapped around the neck of one of the guards last night. There were two other guards in the room with him, and the doctor as well, and they were barely able to save the guard.” Alrik looked at Finnvid closely as he added, “He’s an animal, Finn. A savage.”

Finnvid felt ill, but managed to say, “He’s chained up, after being ambushed in a place he’d been told was safe and losing all his friends.

And you said the guards had been abusing him after his injuries—was this guard one of those?

” He moderated his tone. “I guess it makes sense to chain him more securely for everyone’s safety.

But has anyone talked to him yet? Explained the mistake?

Shown him the letter? He should be enraged, Alrik.

He’s just being angry at the wrong people right now. We could change that.”

“I’m still thinking it over.”

“And mother is still pressuring you to . . . what? To kill him, so it’s tidy? That’s shortsighted, Alrik.”

“She thinks it’s too late to take your path. She thinks we’ve committed to the warlord, and there’s no going back. So if we’re on his side, we need to follow his instructions and kill them all.”

“It’s too late for that.” Finnvid wasn’t sure if this was wise or not, but he needed to try.

“Andros—the kind Sacrati I mentioned yesterday—he didn’t come into the valley with us.

I told you, remember? If he sees the Torian regulars going back without the Sacrati, he’ll know something’s up, and he’ll return to Windthorn before they do and make sure the Sacrati side is represented. ”

Alrik stared at him. “Damn it, Finnvid.” He ran his hands through his hair, and for the first time Finnvid realized that being the king wasn’t easy for his brother.

Alrik always acted like it was, but that was just part of his policy of showing the people what he thought they needed to see.

“The Torian regulars headed out the morning after they arrived. They’re already long gone. ”

“Then Andros is long gone too. Or maybe he crept in among the regulars—he had friends among them, I know. Maybe he heard the story. But if they’re racing back to Windthorn to report?

A sole Sacrati will move faster than a band of regulars.

He’ll arrive first, so we need to keep this Sacrati alive, and we need to make him as comfortable as we can. ”

Alrik still looked undecided, and their mother came in then so Finnvid gave up the argument for the moment. He’d have better luck speaking to Alrik privately than getting into a duel with his mother.

That day was spent trying to act as if nothing had changed, and the day after that as well.

Finnvid tried to catch the rhythms of castle life so he could know when they were disrupted, and did a little more skulking around, trying to figure out where Theos was being held.

The valley had no real dungeon; the few prisoners they ever took were kept in chains, usually out in the open.

He’d not seen anything of the sort lately, though, and he noticed enough guards heading for the cellars that he decided Theos was likely down there.

Not a good sign, if the man was still being held in such unpleasant conditions, especially considering his injuries. But at least he was still alive.

How long could he last for? Finnvid needed to come up with a plan, something more than his continued campaign with his brother. But any overt steps he took would almost certainly alert his mother and result in Theos’s death, not his escape.

It was a horrible situation. And it all got that much worse on the fourth night.

Finnvid was a hero, and he’d returned home after a long and dangerous mission. He needed to be celebrated. The queen mother had put together a feast, and there would be dancing afterward. His new clothes were ready, and he’d looked so handsome when he tried them on. The queen mother was delighted.

Finnvid let the planning continue, and tried not to be sick.