He laughed. "An appeal to my vanity. Mai, you have cut me. But nevertheless, no."
"What if there is no safer haven? In the south our lives are forfeit. In the west lie barren lands. North there is constant trouble, some kind of war. East lies the ocean. Yet we have to go somewhere. Any place we ride now will be a place we've never been before, so we will be placing ourselves in danger nevertheless. We might as well get paid to do it. We may never get another offer, and why should we? Who will welcome a troop of two hundred experienced soldiers? A ruler who wishes to use them to fight, and die. Ordinary folk will fear us, and rightly so. Anyway, we cannot continue journeying endlessly, in the hope that something more to our liking will appear, a peaceful haven, a secret valley where the flowers are always in bloom and all the ewes give birth to twin lambs. You have said I am foolish to listen to the tales, to believe in them, but isn't this just another tale you are telling yourself, that there is a place waiting for us somewhere, in the distance, just beyond where we are now? What if there isn't?"
Flushed and out of breath, surprised at her own vehemence, she broke off.
Frowning, studying the fire, he scratched under his right ear with his left hand. The fire popped, and sparks sprayed and fell. At length, he looked at her. "That day in the market, in Kartu Town, every other merchant offered me their wares for free. They feared me, as they feared all the Qin and especially the officers. I suppose they thought by giving me for nothing what they normally sold for a price, they would gain my favor, or I would not hurt them. But you charged me double the going price."
"And you paid it!"
"Because it amused me to do so. Because you surprised me. Because you held your duty, to sell your clan's produce, higher than your fear of the Qin."
" 'If you are afraid, don't do it. But if you do it, don't be afraid.' Do you remember saying that?"
He shook his head, shrugging. "It's a common saying among the Qin."
"When we were in the desert, and running out of water. After the sandstorm, when you and Chief Tuvi had to decide whether to ride at night through those ravines. A dangerous, difficult passage. You said it then, to him. I took those words into my heart. I tried to live by them. I always thought that I was being strong, in the Mei clan, by bending before the wind, by going along with everything my family wanted, by never disputing with them or raising my voice or causing trouble. Now I see that I was afraid. But there will always be another storm, Anji. There will always be something. If we don't stop now, then it will be because we're still afraid. That's the thing we can't escape by moving elsewhere. It's still traveling with us. We have to do it, and not be afraid."
He was silent. The night wind murmured in the brush; beneath it, she heard the whispers of men, waiting on this decision.
He stepped up to her, took her hand, laid it on his palm. Without speaking, he twisted the wolf-sigil ring off her hand and slid it onto his little finger.
"There," he said. "To remind me. But if we fail, and if we die, you must not reproach me."
All at once, her words vanished. He was so handsome, a prince in truth, an exile, as she was now. She could never reproach him, not for anything. But she could not speak to tell him so; she was too full, choked with the tales she had grown up on, had loved and recited, had sung and played. Had used as an argument against him. She knew herself to be young and naive, stupid, really: she always had believed those tales, even in the ones where everyone ended up dead. She had always wanted to believe them, because they had seemed so much brighter than her own life within the Mei clan's walls. But they had only been a way of hiding from the truth.
"No," he added softly, so sweetly. "I suppose you won't."
He released her hand and stepped back, then whistled sharply. Chief Tuvi returned with the two merchants, and Shai and Priya walked back into view.
"Master Calon," said Anji without preamble. "I am skeptical that you can accomplish your goals in the face of such difficulties. I doubt you can. And I doubt I am willing to risk my men, who rely on me to command them wisely and prudently. But perhaps you can give me a little more information."
"Go on," said Calon, with a glance at Mai that revealed nothing except, perhaps, a shiver of curiosity, of hope.
Eliar turned the silver bracelets that ringed his forearms, restless as he shifted from one foot to the other and back again. He seemed like a child who wants to speak but is trying to hold its tongue.
"Three things. First, what manner and number of soldiers serve the council of Olossi? What resistance will we face in helping you overturn the Greater Houses? Second, if we ride north, and return with the information you ask for, where do you advise us to go afterward? Gold is not enough. We wish to settle in a safe region nearby where my men might also find wives and sufficient pastureland to support herds."
Eliar coughed, bracelets jangling as he shook his arms impatiently.
Calon nodded with a grim smile. "We are both desperate men, and dangerous for being desperate. Olossi has lived in peace for a long time and we have gone fat and lazy. Kotaru's ordinands do most of our border guarding these days. You saw what came of that! By custom, any adult in Olossi is expected to lift a spear in defense of the city, but in truth we can call on no more than five hundred militiamen should it come to that. More could be called out of the countryside-many more…" He paused. All looked inland, as he did. That torch still stuck its stubborn path along the road, heading for the city."… but most of them untrained and inexperienced. We are sheep, ripe for the slaughter. We can't protect ourselves against a real attack, in force, in numbers. And that's what I fear." His voice fell to a whisper, and darkened. "That's what I truly fear. As for the other, were you and your company to ride into the Barrens, and break up into smaller groups, you could find villages that would welcome more hands. It's sparsely settled, especially along the west shore of the Olo'o Sea, in the valley of the River Ireni, and in the West Olo uplands against the mountains of Heaven's Ridge. There's decent pasturing-it's not good for much else-and plenty of land unspoken for in the high reaches. Your men might even find wives there, for I've heard rumors in recent months that young men all around are leaving for the north country to find work and promises of gold, and never come home again. I can't guarantee you'll be welcomed there, but I can guarantee that if you form this alliance with us, the council will give you a legal right to settle in this region. What was the third thing?"
"We met a reeve at the border. He'd heard news of these troubles along West Spur, although he did not tell me how he had come by this information. He asked for our aid in tracking down the bandits, and we helped him. He left us on the road because he wanted to visit Argent Hall. After that, he was supposed to come here to Olossi ahead of us, to speak in our favor and preside over the arrest of the border captain, the one who died untimely. This reeve called himself Joss."
"Heya!" cried Eliar.
"Hush, cub! Let him finish!"
Anji's gaze sharpened; he was not accustomed to being interrupted. He coughed, and went on. "He rode an eagle whose name was Scar. Have you any news of him? Because it seems he has gone missing."
"Argent Hall, eh?" Calon scratched his chin. "Maybe he changed his mind and flew back north. People do that, quit themselves of any claim to duty."
Anji shook his head. "Perhaps, but he would have left word. He would have let us know the change of plans. He is a man of honor. He said he would meet us at Olossi. He did not."