“And she is a power to be reckoned with.”
“Ayyup, going to be real careful on how they decide to try to run us to ground. Emperor’s got soldiers and war Memoridons to throw at us, but got to figure he won’t be rash about it neither. Even without Cap’s sister, they got Memoridons who can track us, so no fire on their horses’ tails. They might even figure we could lead them to Thumaar.”
I sat back against the bench, took a deep breath that didn’t relax me at all. “And the third thing?”
“Third?”
“You said ‘a few things in our favor.’
“So I did. Misspoke then. Just the two, really. Bought us a little time, is all. But still, better than being a corpse at the bottom of the Trench.”
We lapsed into silence after that, Vendurro probably thinking about nothing except all the Jackals who fell to their deaths or were shot out of their saddles that morning, me trying to think of anything but them and failing most of the time, and when I did succeed, it was only to meditate on the false Skeelana, or the fact that we were all fugitives now, and likely doomed. It felt a mercy when we finally stopped for the night with the moon high and bright in the cloudless sky.
I offered to help Vendurro with the horses, but he seemed eager for a distraction and said he would take care of them on his own after he looked in on Hewspear.
After forcing cold food into my belly, I got down and stretched my legs, staying clear of the rest of the Syldoon. I only recognized a few soldiers here and there, and each time they were part of sullen, silent groups that were making camp for the night. Simply walking near them, I felt intrusive. I saw Mulldoos off to himself, cursing loudly as he struggled with his horse’s harness, tripping and nearly falling, one eye full of murder, the other noticeably drooping. I moved away quickly, giving him an even wider berth than usual. Even as damaged as he was, he could easily kill me with one arm, and it would take nothing to provoke him now.
I was about to return to the wagon when I spotted a solitary figure out in a field, armor winking under the moon. Though I could sense the rage radiating even from a distance, I chose to cautiously approach. I stopped several feet behind him, suddenly wondering at the wisdom of seeking him out when the captain said, “I imagine the only way you would be disturbing me right now is if you translated the means of binding every Memoridon in Sunwrack to us, or striking the Emperor dead on the spot. Surely you would not risk my wrath with anything less momentous than that. Surely. So what marvels have you unveiled, Arki? Regale me. Astound me. I beg of you.”
“I… that is-”
“No?” Braylar kept his back to me. “I thought not. Away with you then.”
Perhaps I should have heeded his warning. But I suddenly had so many questions swirling I couldn’t contain them all. “When Rusejenna tried to fell you and failed, you were immune, protected somehow, weren’t you? By Bloodsounder?”
He finally turned and faced me, his left hand on the haft of the flail, face lost in shadow but eyes hot. “That is what you want to speak to me about? How I survived unscathed when so many of my men did not?”
I changed tack as quickly as I could. “You knew that we were going to be betrayed, didn’t you? That’s why you didn’t want Skeelana or your sister to know about Bloodsounder, or the scrolls, or-”
“Of course I knew we would be betrayed.”
“Before we left this morning, did Bloodsounder-?”
“Betrayal was inevitable, you fool. Because of who we are. Just as we hoped to betray Cynead and rethrone Thumaar. We are Syldoon. It is our nature.” He glared at me, voice suddenly hoarse, anger and frustration and bile borne on each word. “And that is precisely why I would rather have died than hand over Bloodsounder or anything else we uncovered to the Emperor. I believed we might have had the key to Cynead’s defeat in our hands. That is why I gave the order to let no Memoridon into my head. That is why I wanted to strike you and Mulldoos and the rest down for failing to heed me. The fact that it was that little bitch Skeelana and not my own blood is immaterial-betrayal was inevitable, if our secrets were known. And not simply my life in the balance, but those of my men.”
The captain took two steps toward me, and I had to force myself not to step away, as he seemed barely able to check his fury. “Every single one of my men who died like a dog today fleeing their city, and those who will likely die tomorrow and the next. All of us, my Tower, my commander, on a precipice now, because you and my officers ignored my explicit orders and saved me in that forsaken plague village.”
There was nothing I could say to that. I couldn’t even stammer. Braylar shook his head, turned away again, and slowly released his grip on Bloodsounder. “Back to the wagon with you, archivist. Disturb me again at your peril.”
He stalked off into the darkness, leaving me with my thoughts, my fears, and my remorse. Sparing the Hornman in the grass, sparing the captain’s own life in the village of the dead-each time, I considered them compassionate acts, simply the right thing to do. I never imagined they could lead to tragedy and greater loss, compounded death and devastation.
That was a drastic failure of imagination.