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Today, though, he longed for a bit more of Andrin's sensitivity. Chan Braikal had told him about the Glimpse he'd experienced on their march to Hell's Gate, but Janaki himself remembered nothing from it.
That was more than merely frustrating, although he'd been able to guess—given the fact that the Chalgyn Consortium crew had been massacred only a very few hours after he'd experienced it—what it must have been about. But from the physical reactions chan Braikal had described, it was obvious that it must have been a very powerful Glimpse, much more powerful than he'd ever had before. And because no one had ever expected him to have a Glimpse of that strength, his training in how to dig it back out of his subconscious was nowhere near as good as his sister's.
"Are you all right, Your Highness?"
He heard Vargan's voice echoing weirdly through the power of his Glimpse and tried to force his eyes to focus on the company-captain. For a second or two—possibly even a little longer—they flatly refused.
They were ... somewhere else. Somewhere dark and frightening.
Then they did focus, and Janaki sucked in a deep, sudden breath.
"Your Highness?" Vargan repeated, and this time there was genuine concern in his voice.
"I'm sorry, Company-Captain," Janaki said, shaking himself vigorously. "I ... guess I really didn't want to hear that."
"I wish I hadn't had to tell you," Vargan admitted.
"Well, I hope all of this enthusiasm to get me home doesn't mean I have to leap right on the next train."
Janaki prayed that his smile didn't look as forced as it felt. "I've been doing nothing but traveling for the best part of four months now—first to Hell's Gate, and then straight back home from Hell's Gate. I'd really, really like to spend one day or so sitting still. Preferably in a deep, hot bathtub somewhere."
"They said they want your return expedited," Vargan said slowly. "Still, it's going to take us most of a day just to figure out the train schedule, given the way the Third Dragoons' movement is screwing up the TTE's timetables. I can't guarantee anything, but I suspect Regiment-Captain chan Skrithik could see his way to letting you have twenty-four hours. Maybe even forty-eight."
"I'd like that, Sir."
"We'll see what we can do, Your Highness. I promise."
"Thank you, Sir."
"And now," Vargan continued, "let's get these POWs of yours off the train. I've arranged suitable—and secure—quarters for them while they're our ... guests."
Janaki nodded and followed Vargan as the company-captain strode briskly over to the train, but the crown prince's thoughts were somewhere else entirely. He hoped Vargan was right about chan Skrithik.
If the company-captain wasn't, then it was going to be up to Janaki to find some way to change the regiment-captain's mind. Janaki needed that time here at Fort Salby, and not just for a bath, however sensually seductive hot water and soap might be.
Whatever he'd just Glimpsed, it was going to happen here—right here, at Salby, and physical proximity to a Glimpse's locus had a powerful sharpening, focusing effect on the Glimpse itself, even for someone whose Talent was as erratic as Janaki's. So he needed to be here, if he was going to figure out what that Glimpse truly meant. But the one thing he knew with absolute certainty was that if he explained what he'd already Seen to chan Skrithik, he'd never be given the opportunity. The Fort Salby CO would literally throw him onto the next train—and, in the absence of trains, onto horseback—to get him as far away as possible if Janaki told him the one crystal-clear image he'd brought back from his Glimpse in the instant his eyes refocused.
The image of Company-Captain Orkam Vargan's decapitated body sprawled across torn, corpse-strewn ground while his blood soaked into Fort Salby's parade ground.