Tyrranis looked thoughtful. “Where were they going?”
“Sergius never said. That’s why it was so hard to look for them. We finally assumed the men had deserted.”
“I remember that now,” the adjutant put in. “We looked for several days; never even found their horses. But Sergius’s horse appeared at his home with an empty saddle.”
“Maybe the soldiers killed Sergius and took off with his taxes,” another officer suggested. “It has been known to happen.”
The commander waved that away. “Maybe if he was collecting gold, but the clanspeople are too poor to pay in coin. Their tribute is in animals. I can’t believe four Tarnish soldiers are going to risk their lives for a few measly horses or goats.”
“Interesting,” murmured the general. He stood up. “There are your charges, Commander. Enough to crucify the man: Inciting rebellion, failure to pay the tribute, and suspicion of murder. Now, get him!”
All the Tarnish officers saluted the general. He returned their salute and gestured to his other men to leave. They all hurried out, the tax collector drawing a quiet sigh of relief. In a moment, the room was empty except for Tyrranis. He returned to the window and leaned on the stone sill to look out over the courtyard of his house. Far beyond the roofs of his estate and the walls of Actigorium, he could see the purplish peaks of the Darkhorn Mountains. Somewhere in their shadows hid a man who could hold the secret to magic, a secret Tyrranis would sell his soul to attain. With magic, he believed he could gather the greatest army in the known world and expand the Tarnish Empire into every corner of civilization. He could ride in triumph into Tarnow bearing the riches of a thousand realms. He could sweep away the ineffectual man on the emperor’s throne and wear the royal diadem himself. He was already setting his myriad plans in motion to usurp the Tarnish imperial throne, but magic would assure him of the conquest.
Tyrranis’s fingers curled around each other and tightened until the knuckles turned white. First he had to get his hands on Valorian.
On a cold autumn night, Valorian was taking his turn at guard duty and trying to keep his anger under control.
Aiden had left early in the day, to go hunting he had said, and as yet hadn’t returned. Usually that wouldn’t have bothered Valorian. His brother was a capable woodsman and could have easily gone too far to return to camp by nightfall.
But this time, Linna had told him in a mixture of tears and anger that Aiden’s Chadarian clothes were missing, and his hunting bow was still hanging in the tent.
Valorian realized immediately that Aiden had gone down to the lowlands. He knew it was impossible to curb his brother’s impulses, but he had fervently hoped Aiden had seen the sense of staying out of the Tarns’ way. So far, the Tarns hadn’t tried to find the family to question them about Sergius or their late tribute, and Valorian hoped they had gotten lost in the tangles of bureaucracy. However, if Aiden got himself caught, that could all change.
He rode Hunnul along the edge of camp to exchange a word or two with the other guards, and then he headed out to check the herds. The family was camped in a small meadow in the lower foothills of the mountains to take advantage of the warmer weather. Snow had already fallen in the higher elevations, and no one was looking forward to returning to winter camp.
That was another problem that worried Valorian. He didn’t know where to take the family for the winter. He didn’t think it would be safe to return to their usual valley because the Tarns had already found it. They needed to go to some out-of-the-way place the Tarns didn’t know about where there was protection from the winter weather and enough fodder for their animals. There weren’t many such places left in the Bloodiron Hills.
Hunnul walked slowly around the open field where the animals grazed. The night was frosty clear and quiet. The only sounds came from the slight wind that brushed the grass and bracken, and the sleepy animals as they shifted in their resting places. Not far away, the soft clank of a bell indicated the presence of the bell mare and the brood mare herd.
Valorian sighed in the peaceful night and tilted his head to look at the glittering swath of stars. Automatically his eyes picked out the shapes of the Drinking Gourd, the Bowman, the Eagle, the Twin Sisters, and the Great Snake, whose starry outline curled along the eastern horizon. Each figure seen in the stars was an important part of the Clan’s ancient legends and a practical part of daily life. By knowing the movement and position of the stars, the clanspeople kept track of the time and the seasons and could find their way in the darkest night.
Valorian fixed his eye on the big red star that hung like a jewel in the southern sky. The star was sinking rapidly to the west, and the night was getting late. He hoped Aiden was out there somewhere following the stars back home. He rode Hunnul to the top of a nearby high hill that overlooked the flatlands, hoping to catch some sign of his brother.
The wind was blowing from the east, bringing the smells of newly harvested fields, ripe grapes, and curing hay to the sensitive nostrils of the stallion. At last, to Valorian’s vast relief, the stallion lifted his head, his nostrils fluting to catch the familiar scent on the breeze.
He comes, Valorian. He smells strange.
“What? Has he been hurt?” Valorian demanded.
No. It is something like your wine, only different. Sharper. More bitter.
“He’s probably been drinking Andor liquor again,” Valorian said irritably. He patted Hunnul in thanks and urged him down the slope toward the camp. They stopped at the edge of the tents and waited to meet Aiden coming up from the direction of Actigorium.
The young man whistled loudly to alert the guards of his identity, then kicked his horse into a canter toward the camp. “Valorian!” he shouted even before he saw his brother waiting at the edge of the tents.
The camp was dark and shadowed. Valorian had forbidden fires and torches after dark to avoid easy detection. Aiden didn’t see the black horse and its rider until he was almost on top of them.
“Valorian!” he shouted again.
“I’m here.” Aiden had to rein in sharply to keep from running into Hunnul. “Good gods, where did you come from?” Without waiting for an answer, he plunged into his news. “Valorian, you’ve got to hear—”
“Aiden,” Valorian said sharply, cutting him off, “what did you think you were—”
But Aiden was too agitated to listen. With a frantic gesture toward the lowlands, he interrupted Valorian. “Yes, I know, I know. I shouldn’t have gone to Actigorium. I could have endangered the family.” He saw the look on his brother’s face and added contritely, “Or myself. I’m sorry to have worried you.” He put a finger in his ear and jiggled it around. “Unfortunately I had this terrible tickle in my ear for news. I had to go!” He finished with his charming grin.
Valorian rolled his eyes. It was impossible for him to stay angry at Aiden when he was back safely and bursting with news. He decided to let it drop. Linna would probably be angry enough for the both of them. He sighed. “So what did you find out?”
“I went down to Actigorium to some of the drinking houses I know, and Valorian, they’re talking of nothing but you!”
That was a nasty jolt. Valorian’s mouth tightened into a grim line. “Why?”
“Magic mostly. Not paying the tribute. Some people are even discussing the missing Tarnish soldiers and Sergius.” Aiden’s voice rose as his anger flared. “It’s easy to guess. Someone has been talking about you down there, someone from the Clan, because the Chadarians and Tarns know almost everything we’ve been doing this summer.”
A sick feeling of betrayal rose in Valorian’s stomach. He knew rumors of his activities would eventually reach the lowlands, but the clanspeople were usually so reluctant to talk to Tarns or Chadarians that he had hoped it would be a long time before the Tarns knew. Now, if Aiden was right, it seemed a clansperson was deliberately trying to sabotage his efforts.