“Truly moving,” Hewspear offered.
Braylar ignored both of them, eyes still locked with his sister’s. “All those skills, all that power, and still as much a pawn as the rest of us, yes? Never fear, we will move shortly. Just after I have followed the rest of the orders that prefaced the recall. The particulars of which, I will still leave to your vaunted and vaulted imagination. Now then, we have a great deal to do in a very short amount of time. So, if you will be so kind as to leave us to it…?”
Soffjian seemed to like being dismissed as much as Braylar liked being recalled, but she nodded and replied, “Of course. Far be it from me to interfere with the work of soldiers and saboteurs. That is, I imagine, what you are doing in this region, is it not? Being but a pawn, I so rarely have fulsome information to operate with.”
I wondered which parent the siblings had inherited their biting rejoinders from.
Braylar’s smile didn’t fade, though it seemed held there more by rigid force of will than any emotion. “I have so missed our engaging repartee, sister. Truly. But we will continue another time, yes?”
Soffjian held onto the ranseur, and performed an exaggerated bow and curtsy. “As you will, brother. Only remember, the recall originated with Cynead, not Darzaak. So you would be wise not to dawdle overmuch. I suggest you make your final maneuverings soon. This Emperor has never been much of a forgiving sort. Though which of them has?”
She turned and headed to the door, but before exiting, stopped in front of Vendurro and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I am truly sorry for Glesswik’s death.”
If anyone thought it strange she would know such a thing, having only arrived, no one gave any indication. Vendurro nodded and said only, “Appreciated.”
Soffjian let Skeelana leave first and then pulled the door shut behind her. We all listened as their footfalls receded down the hall toward the stairs, then Mulldoos broke the silence. “What are you fixing to do, Cap? Want me to round up the regulars and get them pointed home?”
There was an edge to the question, as if the answer he expected and the answer he wanted weren’t likely to be the same.
Braylar didn’t disappoint. Exactly. “I have no wish to give my sister the satisfaction of vacating so quickly. But she is right on that count-the Emperor is not the most patient of men. So, we ride out tomorrow. Tell the rest of the men to prepare the wagons and supplies. We will meet them after.”
Mulldoos looked at Hewspear, then back to his captain. “After?”
Braylar stood and started toward his room, only seeming to realize halfway there that Mulldoos had asked him a question. I wasn’t sure if this was due more to him calculating several moves ahead, or if the stolen memories were taking their toll. He looked at Mulldoos. “We are going for the High Priest tomorrow. Have twenty men ready to ride out with us. Twenty-five, if that leaves enough to handle the wagons. No, no, twenty will have to do. I have no wish to leave our cargo poorly attended.”
It was obvious this didn’t sit well with Mulldoos, but he paused long and hard to chew over his objections before finally saying, “The High Priest, Cap? What for? Brune was ready to plunk us in his toy room already. Sure as spit he’ll figure we were in league with Henlester or worse once we pull out. What’s the point going after the priest? Won’t matter if we silence or even capture that holy horsecock. Nothing will win Brune’s good graces now. Can’t see we got much to gain there, Cap. What am I missing? Am I looking sideways again?”
I expected Braylar’s temper to flame up anew, being questioned by his lieutenant so soon after their recent dustup, but he appeared calm enough as he slowly made his way back to the table. “You are correct. The good baron will no doubt presume the worst. Thanks to a rash and foolish Emperor, a great deal of effort will have gone to waste here, and I suspect in the other baronies as well. Lives spent and lost over nothing now. You are absolutely right-we have no more to play out with him. Not just now. But Henlester is another piece on the board. And still a valuable one. If we can procure him without additional loss, we will do it.”
Mulldoos seemed ready to argue the point, but perhaps remembered the recent dressing down he incurred out in public and thought better of it. Instead, he looked to Hewspear in mute appeal.
While Hewspear didn’t share the pale boar’s hot blood, he still seemed to be of a similar mind, at least as far as this single topic went. Everything else was a point of contention. “Captain, as we discussed, there is still the possibility-perhaps a strong one at that-that Brune is baiting us with the leak of the High Priest’s whereabouts. He could be waiting for us to march right into that trap.”
Mulldoos couldn’t help adding, “Like the ruined temple, Cap? You said you thought we would spring one there, but I didn’t listen. Turned out you couldn’t have been more right. I couldn’t have been more wrong, you couldn’t have been more right. There. Said it loud and clear. So why risk another trap?” Braylar twitch-smiled. “We wasted life enough in this region, Cap. Said so yourself. And that was before Cynead’s little summons. Now that waste is bigger, and worse. Nothing at all to show for it. Nothing, and-”
“That is precisely why we make a move to obtain the High Priest. Or at least close enough to see if there is a trap waiting for us, to see if he is even there. If there is a chance to take him, we can at least leave Anjuria with something to mitigate the losses. If only a little, yes? But if we don’t at least ride to see, we surely will abandon Anjuria with only Syldoonian dead on the ledger. And that is unacceptable. We cannot ignore an Imperial mandate, much as I would like to, but neither can we leave with nothing. I will not allow it.”
Mulldoos looked ready to press on, as he was wont to do, but Hew-spear seemed to sense that and wisely interrupted. “Very well, Captain. But it does raise the question, would it be not wiser to keep our forces together? If Brune is attempting to ensnare us, we are doing half the work for him by splitting our men. And we do have something else for the ledger-those scrolls and maps, those ancient volumes. We risk losing those if we leave them behind to chase down a rumor.”
Braylar smiled, “As the good lieutenant says, he prefers those. But we don’t know precisely what we have compiled. It might prove to be nothing of value, antiquated scratch marks on piss-poor parchment of no interest to anyone. But there is a very real chance that Henlester might be ours for the taking. And if there is something useful in those dusty scrolls, he could also be instrumental in ciphering the meaning and piecing things together.
“The rest of the men will be behind us only by half a day, a day at the most. We have a chance to seize the High Priest and double the value of our prize. We go on the morrow. Prepare the men. That is all.”
Hewspear rose, sensing the futility of arguing the point, but unable to completely help himself. “Soffjian did mention the Emperor was expecting us to withdraw at haste.”
Braylar replied, “And so we shall. As it is, she’s likely not expecting us to depart for a few days. I’m sure she imagines I will do my best to frustrate her, as I know she would me. So, given that Deadmoss isn’t too far out of the way, we might even make a better pace for home leaving tomorrow. Anything else, or are you two layabouts willing to follow orders now?”
Mulldoos shook his head, his thick neck rippling, and appeared ready to dig in, but Hewspear gave him a look, and he kept his reply to, “And if you sniff another trap? What then, Cap?”
Braylar’s smile disappeared. “If I sense a trap, you will be the first to know, and the first to remind me of what happened the last time we didn’t retreat when we had the chance. I will not lead us to our destruction. If our scouts, flesh and blood, or steel-” he tapped the haft of Blood-sounder, “give the slightest hint that things are amiss, we regroup with our wagons and our dead, and head home, ledger be damned, yes? Now ready the men.”