"Yes. They are obviously under orders to give us our gold and hope we leave quickly."
Lain Nunez removed his hat and ran a hand through his thinning grey hair. "And are we? Leaving?"
"I think so," the Captain said. "I can't think of a point to make down here. There's nothing but trouble in Fezana right now."
"And trouble heading home."
"Well, walking home."
"They'll get there eventually."
Rodrigo grimaced. "What would you have had me do?"
His lieutenant shrugged, and then spat carefully into the grass. "We leave at first light, then?" he asked, without answering the question.
The Captain looked at him closely for a moment longer, opened his mouth as if to say something more, but in the end he merely shook his head. "The Muwardis will be watching us. We leave, but not in any hurry. We can take our time about breaking camp. You can pick a dozen men to ride back to Orvilla in the morning. Spend the day working there and catch us up later. There are men and women to be buried, among other things."
Alvar dismounted and walked over to the fire where the doctor was sitting. "Is there ... can I help you with anything?"
She looked very tired, but she did favor him with a quick smile. "Not really, thank you." She hesitated. "This is your first time in Al-Rassan?"
Alvar nodded. He sank down on his haunches beside her. "I was hoping to see Fezana tomorrow," he said. He wished he spoke better Asharic, but he tried. "I am told it is a city of marvels."
"Not really," she repeated carelessly. "Ragosa, Cartada ... Silvenes, of course. What's left of it. Those are the great cities. Seria is beautiful. There is nothing marvellous about Fezana. It has always been too close to the tagra lands to afford the luxury of display. You won't be seeing it tomorrow?"
"We're leaving in the morning." Again, Alvar had the unpleasant sense that he was struggling to stay afloat in waters closing over his head. "The Captain just told us. I'm not sure why. I think because the Muwardis came."
"Well, of course. Look around you. The parias gold is here. They don't want to open the gates tomorrow, and they particularly won't want Jaddite soldiers in the city. Not with what happened today."
"So we're just going to turn around and—"
"I'm afraid so, lad." It was the Captain. "No taste of decadent Al-Rassan for you this time." Alvar felt himself flushing.
"Well, the women are mostly outside the walls this year," the doctor said, with a demure expression. She was looking at Ser Rodrigo, not at Alvar.
The Captain swore. "Don't tell my men that! Alvar, you are bound to secrecy. I don't want anyone crossing the river. Any man who leaves camp walks home."
"Yes, sir," Alvar said hastily.
"Which reminds me," the Captain said to him, with a sidelong glance at the doctor, "you might as well lower your stirrups now. For the ride back."
And with those words, for the first time in a long while, Alvar felt a little more like his usual self. He'd been waiting for this moment since they'd left Valledo behind.
"Must I, Captain?" he asked, keeping his expression innocent. "I'm just getting used to them this way. I thought I'd even try bringing them up a bit higher, with your approval."
The Captain looked at the doctor again. He cleared his throat. "Well, no, Alvar. It isn't really ... I don't think ... "
"I thought, if I had my knees up high enough, really high, I might be able to rest my chin on them when I rode, and that would keep me fresher on a long ride. If that makes sense to you, Captain?"
Alvar de Pellino had his reward, then, for uncharacteristic silence and biding his time. He saw the doctor smile slowly at him, and then look with arched eyebrows of inquiry at the Captain.
Rodrigo Belmonte was, however, a man unlikely to be long discomfited by this sort of thing. He looked at Alvar for a moment, then he, too, broke into a smile.
"Your father?" he asked.
Alvar nodded his head. "He did warn me of some things I might encounter as a soldier."
"And you chose to accept the stirrup business nonetheless? To say nothing at all?"
"It was you who did it, Captain. And I want to remain in your company."
The Kindath doctor's amusement was obvious. Ser Rodrigo's brow darkened. "In Jad's name, boy, were you humoring me?"
"Yes, sir," said Alvar happily.
The woman he had decided he would love forever threw back her head and laughed aloud. A moment later, the Captain he wanted to serve all his days did exactly the same thing.
Alvar decided it hadn't been such a terrible night, after all.
"Do you see how clever my men are?" Rodrigo said to the doctor as their laughter subsided. "You are quite certain you won't reconsider and join us?"
"You tempt me," the doctor said, still smiling. "I do like clever men." Her expression changed. "But Esperana is no place for a Kindath, Ser Rodrigo. You know that as well as I."
"It will make no difference with us," the Captain said. "If you can sew a sword wound and ease a bowel gripe you will be welcome among my company."
"I can do both those things, but your company, clever as its men may be, is not the wider world." There was no amusement in her eyes any more. "Do you remember what your Queen Vasca said of us, when Esperana was the whole peninsula, before the Asharites came and penned you in the north?"
"That was more than three hundred years ago, doctor."
"I know that. Do you remember?"
"I do, of course, but—
"Do you?" She turned to Alvar. She was angry now. Mutely, he shook his head.
"She said the Kindath were animals, to be hunted down and burned from the face of the earth."
Alvar could think of nothing to say.
"Jehane," the Captain said, "I can only repeat, that was three hundred years ago. She is long dead and gone."
"Not gone! You dare say that? Where is she?" She glared at Alvar, as if he were to blame for this, somehow. "Where is Queen Vasca's resting place?"
Alvar swallowed. "On the Isle," he whispered. "Vasca's Isle."
"Which is a shrine! A place of pilgrimage, where Jaddites from all three of your kingdoms and countries beyond the mountains come, on their knees, to beg miracles from the spirit of the woman who said that thing. I will make a wager that half this so-clever company have family members who have made that journey to plead for blessed Vasca's intercession."
Alvar kept his mouth firmly shut. So, too, this time, did the Captain.
"And you would tell me," Jehane of the Kindath went on bitterly, "that so long as I do my tasks well enough it will not matter what faith I profess in Esperanan lands?"
For a long time Ser Rodrigo did not answer. Alvar became aware that the merchant, ibn Musa, had come up to join them. He was standing on the other side of the fire listening. All through the camp Alvar could now hear the sounds and see the movements of men preparing themselves for sleep. It was very late.
At length, the Captain murmured, "We live in a fallen and imperfect world, Jehane bet Ishak. I am a man who kills much of the time, for his livelihood. I will not presume to give you answers. I have a question, though. What, think you, will happen to the Kindath in Al-Rassan if the Muwardis come?"
"The Muwardis are here. They were in Fezana today. In this camp tonight."
"Mercenaries, Jehane. Perhaps five thousand of them in the whole peninsula."
Her turn to be silent. The silk merchant came nearer. Alvar saw her glance up at him and then back at the Captain.
"What are you saying?" she asked.
Rodrigo crouched down now beside Alvar and plucked some blades of grass before answering.
"You spoke very bluntly a little while ago about our coming south to take Fezana one day. What do you think Almalik of Cartada and the other kings would do if they saw us coming down through the tagra lands and besieging Asharite cities?"