“We’re moving too slowly,” Rikus said, shivering in the cold mountain wind. He was wearing only his customary breechcloth and a pair of sturdy sandals, having refused Agis’s gentlemanly offer to loan him something warmer. In his hand, the mul carried the one item he had condescended to borrow, a bone axe with twin blades set side by side.
Rikus pointed ahead to where the stone terrace ended at the edge of a deep chasm. “Where’s Anezka?” he asked. “If we lose her now, we’ll never find Nok or Sadira’s damned spear.”
“She’ll be back,” Agis said, rubbing his temples. Though he was dressed in what Rikus considered a foppish manner-calf-high walking boots, leather breeches, and a rust-colored corselet with a matching fleece cape-the mul had to admit that at least the noble’s outfit appeared warm.
Agis looked toward Sadira and Neeva, then added, “The women need to rest.”
Rikus followed his gaze and saw that Sadira was a few yards behind the noble, dressed in leather pants and a fleece shawl. Somewhere in Agis’s house, she had also found a crownlike hat with a pair of stylish straps that descended along her nose and crossed beneath her cheeks like a mask. The mul had seen noblewomen dressed in similar hats, and it bothered him to see Sadira proudly imitating their inane fashions.
Behind the half-elf came Neeva, struggling up the mountainside at a plodding but steady pace. Of course, the only clothing Agis had been able to provide for a woman of her proportions had come from his slave pens. Still, she looked comfortable enough in a pair of hemp pants and a coarse wool cloak, and she seemed completely at ease with the steel-bladed trikal in her hand. She had been absolutely delighted when Agis gave it to her as a gift, and that bothered the mul even more than Sadira’s love for her new hat. This Agis of Asticles was working too hard to make himself popular with a group of escaped slaves.
“The women look like they’re doing better than you,” Rikus said, sneering at the noble’s weakness. “At least they’re still moving.”
Despite his callous attitude, Rikus knew what Agis felt.
When they had first started climbing, the companions had all noticed a certain shortness of breath and unusual weariness. As Anezka had led them higher into the mountains, this feeling had continually grown worse. Their heads throbbed with blinding pain, the mere effort of breathing racked their lungs with searing torment, and the muscles of their legs were numb with fatigue. The difference between Agis and his companions was that the noble was unaccustomed to prolonged deprivation and hardship, whereas the others had known it all their lives.
Ignoring the mul’s barb, Agis reached into his satchel and withdrew his waterskin. It was half-empty, for the group had not come across any fresh water since entering the mountains three days ago.
As the noble opened the neck, Rikus cried, “It’s not time to drink. Save that for later.”
Agis sneered at the mul. “I’m carrying it. I’ll drink when I like.”
“We’re running short on water,” Rikus growled, stepping toward the noble.
“Our stores are far from depleted,” Agis countered. “Besides, I’ve spent time in the desert. I can find more water when we run out.” The noble looked around at the barren mountainside surrounding them, then added, “Well, before we’re in danger of dying, anyway.” He lifted the skin to his lips again.
The mul reached for the waterskin. “Your soft ways are going to get us killed!”
Agis pulled the skin away. “What are you doing?”
“Protecting us from you!” Rikus replied. He lunged for the waterskin again, this time grasping it around the open neck.
Agis pulled in the other direction just hard enough to prevent the mul from taking it. “Rikus, if we continue this, we’re going to spill what’s left of the water,” he said, speaking in a patronizingly calm tone.
“What are you two doing?” Sadira cried as she got close.
Rikus ignored her. “I’m not going to let you drink it all,” he said, refusing to yield to what he perceived as a veiled threat. “I’ll pour it on the ground first.”
Agis released the waterskin. “You’re a big enough fool to do it, aren’t you?”
“I ought to split your skull for you,” Rikus countered.
Unimpressed with the threat, Agis turned to Sadira. “I don’t think Rikus could have illustrated my point any better, do you?”
“Don’t get me involved,” she said, rubbing her temples. “This is between you.”
Neeva joined them. “If you two spent less time arguing, we’d probably be in the halfling forest by now,” she said. Rather than trying to stand next to Sadira on the narrow ledge, she stopped behind the half-elf. “Maybe what we need is a leader.”
Rikus smiled at his fighting partner, then smirked at Agis. “Good idea,” he said, retying the neck of the waterskin. “We drink when I say.”
The noble frowned. “Neeva said we need a leader, but I didn’t hear anyone say it should be you.”
Rikus regarded Agis disdainfully. “Who else could it be?” he demanded. “You’re too soft.”
Agis’s eyes flashed. “I spent more than a year learning the ways of the desert,” he said in a controlled voice. “I doubt that your background allowed for the same opportunities.”
“We’re in the mountains, not the desert,” Rikus insisted, not quite sure whether the noble had meant his comment as an observation or as an insult. “Besides, I don’t care how much time you spent in the desert. You’re still too soft.”
“You’re too simple,” Agis countered hotly. “You mistake bullying for leading, and the only way you know to solve a problem is to kill it.”
Rikus stared at Agis without speaking. There was probably some truth to what the noble said, for he had never been trained to do anything but fight. This realization did little to decrease his desire to grab Agis and pitch him over the cliff.
“Neither of you should be the leader,” Neeva said, stepping around Sadira.
“What are you saying? We should follow you?” Rikus asked.
“Maybe,” Neeva answered. “At least my mind is on Nok and the spear.”
“When did you get so interested in the spear?” Rikus demanded. “Don’t tell me you’re joining this crazy plot to assassinate Kalak?”
Neeva met his gaze steadily. “What do you think I’m doing here?”
Rikus frowned, unable to answer. He had assumed that Neeva was making the journey just because he was. It had not occurred to him that she might have another reason.
“If you’re not here because you want to kill Kalak, why did you insist on coming along?” Agis asked pointedly.
The mul motioned to the half-elf. “To protect Sadira,” he said. “She saved my life so I owe her a debt of honor. I must defend her life until that debt is paid.”
The senator smiled. “In that case, there’s no need for you to continue. I’m perfectly capable of defending the young-”
“Forget it,” Rikus snapped, glaring at Agis. He had not explained the real reason he was here: he simply wanted to be with Sadira.
“Why don’t you both turn back?” Neeva asked. “We’ll travel a lot faster if we don’t have to stop and wait while you two fight over Sadira every few miles.”
“They’re arguing, not fighting,” Sadira noted. “Besides, there’s nothing to fight over. A woman can have feelings for more than one man.”
Neeva rolled her eyes.
“Just like Rikus loves both you and me,” Sadira went on. “No one sees us arguing.”
“We’re not exactly friends,” Neeva replied coldly. “And I wouldn’t say what Rikus feels for me is love.” With that, she looked toward the end of the terrace. “There’s Anezka. If we’re going to reach Nok, we’d better keep up with her. Soon, she’ll grow tired of waiting for us.”
Rikus gave Neeva an angry glance, but did not say anything. As usual, his fighting partner had cut to the heart of the matter with a few biting comments.
When he looked forward, he saw Anezka standing at the end of the terrace watching him and the others with a disgusted expression. She turned toward the peak on the right, then stepped over the edge of the terrace and was gone from sight.