Achan pulled off his gloves and sat on his bed. He removed the parchment and quill from his saddlebag. Even with the slight warmth from the fire, his fingers were too cold to pinch the quill. The ink was probably frozen too. He set the writing tools aside and leafed through the book.
The letters jumbled together. His mind drifted. One of his men had betrayed him. Could there be others? Working together? Or perhaps each with their own agenda? Maybe Achan could use bloodvoicing to monitor each man's thoughts and discover who'd tried to poison him.
But what about gifted men? They would guess their destination soon enough and could communicate the information to Esek-or someone else. Hadad, maybe? The person-was it a demon? a shadow mage? — who had visited him in the pit in Barth, what was his agenda? He had wanted Achan to join him, but to what end? Would Achan's death get Hadad the same goal, whatever that might be?
Supposedly, Achan was stronger than any other bloodvoicer, yet he didn't yet know how to push past a man's shields and enter his mind. What, then, was the best way to discover who could bloodvoice without having to probe every mind in camp?
Achan reached out to Sir Gavin. Is there a way I can tell which of our men can bloodvoice without having to look into each mind?
Sir Gavin took a moment to reply. It's difficult. We talked about a novice giving off a chill. A skilled bloodvoicer can focus in on that cold, but it takes practice, and you'd be leaving your body, which I'd rather you not try until we've had a chance to teach you more. Sir Eagan would be the best man for the task. I never did much reconnaissance.
Achan's first instinct was to beg Sir Gavin to help him anyway, wanting assistance from someone he knew well, but speaking with Sir Eagan would help him get to know the man. Sir Eagan, could you come to my tent when you have a moment? Please?
Achan scratched the back of his neck. The fleas were still with him. The stinky wool tent wouldn't help matters, apparently, neither would the cold.
A gust of icy air rustled the pages of the book. "Yes, Your Majesty?" Sir Eagan stood between the curtains.
Achan stopped scratching. "Come in and sit down."
Sir Eagan stepped out of view and returned with a tied bedroll. He dropped it beside the curtain and used it as a chair. His blue eyes pierced Achan's shield of comfort.
"Sir Gavin tells me you're the man to ask for help," Achan said. "I'd like to determine which of the new men possess the ability to bloodvoice. Sir Gavin says you can teach me how to leave my mind and focus in on those with the gift."
"You are wise to want to know who has the ability, but what you ask is a difficult task."
"Can you teach me?"
Sir Eagan pressed his lips together. "I can, but there is an easier way. A combination of logic and bookkeeping."
"Not a new bloodvoicing method?"
"Nothing so complicated, no, Your Highness. Simply look into every mind to see if you can. A gifted man would likely be trained to keep his mind closed. If you cannot see into a mind, you know that one is gifted."
"There's never a case where an ungifted man may be able to guard his mind?"
Sir Eagan shook his head. "It is impossible. You could keep a list of the men and note your discoveries by each name. Then you will learn who is gifted and who is not."
Achan knew all this already. "There are over three hundred. Is there a faster way? I am trying to find the traitor."
Sir Eagan frowned. "You believe he can bloodvoice?"
Achan took a deep, chilled, breath. "Esek did not look or sound as if he expected me dead, and his timing cannot be ignored. So there might be more than one traitor. Perhaps one man who seeks the reward for my death, operating apart from Esek, and another with the ability to bloodvoice Sir Kenton and keep Esek informed of our plans. I wish to determine who is capable of bloodvoicing so that I can monitor their thoughts."
"Sound deductions, Your Highness. The simplest way might be to ask the gifted men to come forward. Their good faith should set them apart from those who do not confess the gift. But the ability to bloodvoice is not enough to prove a man guilty. A traitor may have had other means of communicating with Esek. You need evidence and reason before accusing any man, for your accused could claim to have been daydreaming.
"I suggest you share your discoveries with Gavin or Caleb or myself so that we can verify your findings. Should you go pointing the finger without proof, you will quickly become an object of ridicule. That would be tragic."
Achan's shoulders slumped. Consumed by anger and fear-and his quest to be useful-he might have done just that. His stomach knotted. He didn't know how to be king. He'd be a laughingstock within a month.
A sudden calm wrapped him like a cloak cast upon him from above. He gasped at the contrast to how he'd just been feeling.
Sir Eagan smiled knowingly. "A little trick I learned, Your Highness. I hope you do not mind. I have always been sensitive to the emotions of those around me. Imagine walking by a hungry man and not offering him food. I feel cruel if I do not help."
"You calmed me? With your bloodvoice? Can you teach me?"
"I shall think on it. I am not entirely certain how I do it."
"Thank you, Sir Eagan." Achan reached for the ink, determined to start right away on part one of his plan: a roster of all his men. He'd have to get his ink thawed.
"My pleasure, Your Majesty." Sir Eagan stood and picked up his bedroll. "And I shall teach you how to leave your body once we are back in Light. It is much safer there."
Another thought drifted into Achan's mind. "Sir Eagan? Do you think it would be good if…" His face warmed. "I think I'd like to make some…appointments?"
Sir Eagan's lips curved in a small smile. "Yes, Your Majesty. But you might wait a few more days and get to know the men better. Time may inspire several assignments that have not yet occurred to you."
"Of course. You're very wise, Sir Eagan."
"Only because I have made many mistakes."
Achan's stomach clenched again. "I don't want to make mistakes."
"No man sets out to make mistakes. It is when he listens to his desires over what is true and right that he fails. Humility is a most difficult trait to develop. I am pleased to see you have a great deal of it already. For you shall be tempted more than any other."
Sir Eagan sighed, glanced at his hands. "Your Majesty, I am not a bold man, nor am I good with sentiments, but…" He lowered himself to his knees, his blue eyes intense. "I swear to you…" He paused to breathe, his eyes glistening. "As I served your father, I shall serve you with equal devotion.
"I swore over his dead body that I would avenge him. Kenton might have put me away for thirteen years, but he did not kill me. And only death could keep me from my vow. It is my life's purpose to serve you, to teach you all your father would have taught you. For there is no one to blame for his death but me." He squeezed his eyes shut. A tear leaked down his cheek. He forced himself to look at Achan again. "I alone am responsible. I was his Shield. I failed him. And you. I shall not fail again."
Sir Eagan helped compile Achan's roster by patrolling the camp. There were three hundred fifty-one men in their group. Sixty-five with Captain Demry, fifty-two ex-guards from IceIsland, two hundred eleven escaped Old Kingsguards, and only eighteen from the Prodotez. Sir Eagan indicated with small dots which men had confessed bloodvoice ability. There were eight on the list, not including Sir Gavin, Sir Caleb, Inko, Sparrow, and Achan. Fifteen confessed bloodvoicers in all.
That night, Achan scratched off another list of names. Sir Eagan had inspired him to practice wisdom before action. Achan dipped the quill into the ink-which had thawed at the edge of the fire-and set it to the parchment. He intended to add every possible suspect, including those he knew couldn't possibly be against him. Sir Eric Livna, for example. He also wrote down Lady Viola, Lady Revada, and Lady Merris.