Then again, maybe I was just trying to find an excuse to speak to her at all. She was easy to chat with, warm and playful, even as she teased me. The prospect of doing so again was somehow both exciting and daunting. But she was also a Memoridon. I had to remind myself of that. And she was probably only humoring me, besides.
Braylar called out, “You are tarrying, scribe. You do not get paid to tarry. Mount up.”
After packing my quills in haste, I snapped the case shut, slid it back into the leather harness on the side of the saddle, and climbed back up, the insides of my thighs chafed and sore already.
I wondered if steady riding would result in calluses on my legs. I hoped not.
The column rode in silence. I was the only one shifting and sitting the saddle so poorly-even Skeelana seemed a more competent and comfortable rider. I tried not to look behind, trusting that the two riders Braylar had screening would ride up and announce any sign of trouble or pursuit. Still, we had fled Alespell with countless dead Hornmen littering the street, a ripper running loose, and a baron who didn’t take kindly to being disobeyed. Surely, someone must have been hounding us by now.
I fell back behind Vendurro, Mulldoos, Hewspear, and Braylar, not so close that I would intrude or crowd them (or draw more than the dark stare from Mulldoos), but near enough I’d be the first of the remaining men to know what was happening. Should anything noteworthy happen. Which of course it did, given who I was riding with.
We approached Martyr’s Fork as one road veered almost due north, and the other branch continued into the west. While I fully expected us to head north, as that was the direction Sunwrack lay, we stayed west. Away from Thurvacia. Clearly I was missing something. Again.
Soffjian rode past me, not tarrying in the least. I wasn’t sure if it was a cantor or a gallop, but it wasn’t slow. Skeelana followed, though not riding quite so hard, with the spare mounts behind her. I gave her a questioning look as she passed and she only raised her pierced eyebrows. I picked up the pace a bit as well, closing the distance between myself and the Syldoon officers, though as discretely as I could manage.
Braylar’s sister passed him, wheeled her horse around with a whinnying protest and then stopped directly in his path. While he could have chosen to go around her-this was an open road, not an alley-he halted and waited her out.
She seemed adept at masking her emotions when it suited her, perhaps no less so than Braylar, adopting expressions and demeanor for effect, but looked genuinely angry now. “I couldn’t help noticing you are no longer headed home, brother. It’s been some time-I do hope you haven’t forgotten the way?”
Braylar met her stare. “Your heartfelt concern for my faculties is appreciated, as always, but-and I realize this might surprise you-I do in fact know where I am headed. Thank you for checking, just the same. Truly touching.”
For the briefest moment, I thought I saw the anger flare up into a smoldering rage, but her usual mask slid into place so quickly, it might almost have been a trick of the shadow of a fast-moving cloud playing on her features. Almost. “While the Emperor and Commander Darzaak didn’t see fit to share the actual script, it was made very clear to me that you were to quit Alespell as soon as you were able and return to Sunwrack immediately. Was the message more muddled on the actual page? Some ambiguity there? Please, explain what I missed.”
I nudged my horse forward a bit to better see his face. Yes, he was smiling. That didn’t bode well. “Oh, no, you are quite right. The mandate to return was spelled out explicitly. No uncertain terms. No room to misinterpret.”
Soffjian laughed, which was as humorless a sound as I’d ever heard. “Truly? So, you’re simply disregarding an Imperial order?”
“Our return to the capital will involve as much haste as we can muster. Exactly as instructed.”
Soffjian glared, the unfriendly smile still on her lips. “Oh? I remain mystified.”
“The order allowed for us to complete whatever final action we deemed necessary here before quitting the territory and returning. That particular segment is open to interpretation.”
Mulldoos broke in, smiling as well, though he seemed to actually be enjoying the confrontation. “Cynead ought to have buttoned that one down better. Cap has room to wiggle, you can be sure he’ll be using it.”
Soffjian’s eyes never left her brother. “That’s Emperor Cynead, Syldoon. And I suspect the Emperor will not be amused at your delays.”
Mulldoos didn’t back down either, which wasn’t shocking, but still spoke volumes about his bravery, stupidity, or indignation. “Guessing in all his imperialness, he forgot it was an imperial order sent us and every other squad into Anjuria in the first place. Emperors don’t like getting dirt or blood under their fingernails-that’s what grunts are for. None of us are here by our own volition, Memoridon.”
Soffjian moved her horse forward, and part of me feared she would extend her splayed fingers and drop Mulldoos in the dirt. Another small part of me hoped to see it, at least if she only put him in his place instead of churning his brain like butter. But instead, she reined both her horse and herself in, voice level and cold. “Your political commentary isn’t particularly relevant or interesting to me. But perhaps the Emperor will be more intrigued-you will have ample opportunity to share your views back in Sunwrack.”
If Soffjian was a potential lightning strike, Mulldoos was happy to hoist his sword in the air and march around in his armor. “Cynead’s a plaguing fool. Giving us marching orders home, when we were finally making some headway.” He spit in the dirt. “Emperor or no, man’s still a horsecunt and a half. That ain’t a view, it’s fact.”
Given how much he’d argued with Braylar before on this very point, insisting the Syldoon needed to pull out, I was surprised to see Mulldoos taking essentially the opposite position now. But maybe Vendurro was right-the losses mounted up in ways you couldn’t calculate. Or maybe he just despised his emperor that much. Or enjoyed bating a Memoridon who could destroy him without a touch.
Soffjian gave the pale man a flat, opaque look. “Your successes, failures, or losses are not my concern. My sole purpose here is to ensure you comply with Emperor Cynead’s mandate and Commander Darzaak’s directive and return in a timely fashion. Which it seems your captain intends to disobey, if not in the entirety, at least in spirit.”
Mulldoos started to reply, but Braylar broke in. “The good lieutenant is in the right. We have lost men in this region at imperial behest, sweet sister, and we can never reclaim the fallen or our lost years. That is a soldier’s lot. We receive commands, we obey commands to the fullest of our abilities, and on rare occasions, we receive some commensurate reward. We accept this. And Cynead-” Soffjian started to interrupt but Braylar raised a hand and pressed on. “My apologies-Emperor Cynead has been absent from the front lines for so many years he might have forgotten what the common soldier risks and endures in a dangerous territory far from home. A forgivable lapse, perhaps. But given the cunning intrigues he plays at on a daily basis in his own courtyard, it is surprising he would insist his agents abandon their maneuvering on his behalf.”
“Bray, you overstep-”
“So, while he might have eaten some spoiled fruit, suffered a severe bellyache, and decided to suddenly reverse policy, threatening to undermine everything we have worked so hard to engineer here on his behalf, that is his fickle prerogative, yes? But I will be thrice damned if I will quit this region before doing something to guarantee all of the blood spilled here was not in vain. And I expect when he sees how conscientious we are in our withdrawal, he will appreciate the lengths we have gone to. All for the glory of Empire. And Emperor. Of course.”