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"And you give me decrepit pieces of rust? No thank you, your Highness."
Tavi lifted a placating hand. "You'll get to inspect the chains first. Your promise will be contingent upon your acceptance."
Demos pursed his lips. Then he nodded abruptly. "Done."
Tavi unslung the heavy courier's bag from its strap over one shoulder, and tossed it to Demos. The captain caught it, grunted under the weight, and gave Tavi a suspicious look as he opened the bag.
Demos stared for a long, silent moment. Then, link by link, he drew a set of slaver's chains out of the bag.
Every link was made of gold.
Demos ran his fingertips over the chains for an astonished minute. It was the fortune of a mercenary's lifetime, and much, much more. Then he looked up at Tavi, his brow furrowed in a confused frown.
"You don't have to accept them," Tavi said. "My Knights Aeris will fly me out to one of the other ships. You'll join the fleet. And you can take up slaving again at the end of your contract.
"Or," he continued, "you can accept them. And never carry slaves again."
Demos just shook his head slowly for a moment. "What have you done?"
"I've just made it more profitable for you to stop slaving than to continue it," Tavi said. "Which is exactly what I'm going to do to the rest of Alera."
Demos smiled faintly down. "You give me chains fashioned to my own size, Your Highness. And ask me to wear them freely."
"I'll need skilled captains, Demos. I'll need men whose word I can trust." Tavi gri
Demos dropped the chains back into the bag and slung it over one shoulder, then inclined his head more deeply than Tavi had seen him make the gesture before. "Welcome aboard the Slive , my lord."
Demos immediately turned and began bawling orders to the crew, and Max and Kitai came up the ramp to stand next to Tavi.
"That was well done, Aleran," Kitai murmured.
Max shook his head. "There's something broken inside your skull, Calderon. You do all your thinking sideways."
"It was Ehren's idea, actually," Tavi said.
"Wish he was coming with us," Max rumbled.
"That's the glamorous life of a Cursor," Tavi replied. "But with any luck, we won't be gone long. We sail Varg and his people back home, make some polite noises to keep diplomatic cha
Max grunted. "Gives Gaius time to gather support in the Senate, declare you his heir all legal and official."
"And puts me somewhere that is both beyond the reach of potential assassins and of unquestionable of importance to the realm," Tavi said. "I am particularly fond of the former."
The sailors began casting off mooring lines, and Kitai took Tavi's hand firmly. "Come," she said. "Before you splatter your breakfast all over your armor."
As the ship pushed away from the dock and began to rock with the motion of the sea, Tavi felt his stomach began to slowly roil, and he hurried to his cabin to relieve himself of his armor and make sure that he had plenty of water and an empty bucket or two available. He was a terrible sailor, and life on a ship was pure torment.
Tavi felt another twinge in his belly and thought longingly of nice, solid ground, be it ever so littered with assassins.
Two months at sea.
He could scarcely imagine a greater nightmare.
"This stinks," complained To
Kestus glanced down at the field hatchet strapped to his horse's saddlebag. It would be hard to get much strength behind a throw while riding a horse, but To
True, Kestus had the entire deserted run of the wilderness southwest of the Waste to hide the body in, but there was the matter of the new man to complicate things. He glanced back at the third member of the patrol, the slender, wiry pipsqueak who called himself Ivarus and had enough sense to keep his mouth shut most of the time.
Kestus was a strong believer in avoiding complications. So he did what he usually did when To
"Do you know what it's like closer to the Waste?" To
Kestus thought wistfully of murder.
"I talked to this one guy from the northern march," To
The man cursed the horse savagely, kicking harder than necessary with his heels and jerking hard on the reins to bring it back under control.
Kestus idly added theoretical torture to the theoretical murder, because done right, it might be fu
"And here we are," To
Ivarus, his face mostly hidden beneath the hood of his cloak, broke a branch about as thick as a man's thumb from a tree beside the trail. Then he nudged his horse up into a trot and drew up alongside To
"We could have them lining up to spread their legs for us for the price of a piece of bread," To
Ivarus quite calmly lifted the branch and broke it over To
"Bloody crows!" To
Kestus didn't bother trying to hide his smile. "He thinks you're a bloody idiot. So do I."
"What?" To
"Because you want to take advantage of people who are desperate and dying," Kestus said. "And because you haven't thought things through. People are starving. Disease is rampant. And soldiers get paid. How many legionares do you think have been murdered in their sleep for the clothes on their back, the coins in their purse? How many do you think have fallen sick and died, just like all those holders? And in case it slipped your notice, To
To
"Look," Kestus said. "Julius got us all the way through Kalare's rebellion in one piece. None of our company died. And out here, we're out of the worst of it. It might not pay as well, or have the… opportunities, as the patrols nearer the Waste. But we aren't dying of plague or getting our throats cut while we sleep, either."
To
"Yep," Kestus agreed. "So's Julius. Which is why we're all in one piece." So far.
The loudmouth shook his head and turned to glare at Ivarus. "You touch me again and I'm going to gut you like a fish."
"Good," Ivarus said. "Once we hide the body, Kestus and I can switch out our mounts with yours and pick up the pace." The hooded man glanced up at Kestus. "How much longer until we get back to camp?"
"Couple of hours," Kestus replied laconically. He gave To
To
Kestus liked the new man.
They rode into the glade that Julius had chosen as their camp as twilight settled over the land. It was a good site. A steep hillside had provided them a place to earthcraft something that almost resembled shelter from the weather. A small stream trickled nearby, and the horses whickered, their steps quickening as they recognized the place where they would receive some grain and rest.
But just before he rode out of the shelter of the belt of heavy evergreens that surrounded the glade, Kestus stopped his horse.
Something was wrong.
His heartbeat sped up a little, as a tension with no obvious explanation seized him. He remained still for a moment, trying to trace the source of his unease.
"Bloody crows," sighed To
"Quiet," Ivarus whispered, his voice tense.
Kestus glanced back at the wiry little man. Ivarus was on edge as well.
The camp was completely silent and still.
The company of rangers that was supposed to patrol this area of what had once been the lands of the High Lord Kalarus Brencis numbered a dozen strong, but three and four-man patrols moved in and out of the camp on a regular basis. It was not inconceivable that all but a pair of the rangers were out on their rounds. It was not unthinkable that whoever was minding the camp might have gone on a quick local sweep, hoping to turn up some game.
But it didn't seem very likely.
Ivarus brought his horse up beside Kestus' and murmured, "The fire's out."
And that pinpointed it. In an active camp, a fire was kept alight almost as a matter of course. It was too much of a headache to let it go out and continually rebuild it. Even if the fire had burned down to hot coals and ashes, there was still the scent of wood smoke. But Kestus couldn't smell the camp's fire.
The wind shifted slightly, and Kestus' horse tensed and quivered with sudden apprehension, its wide nostrils flaring. Something moved, perhaps thirty yards away. Kestus remained still, fully aware that any motion would draw attention toward him. Footsteps sounded, crunching on fallen autumn leaves.