“Do you have to choose?” Briar asked.
“Of course,” she replied. “Moreover, I’m sure General Sayrugo will prefer we use our abilities as battle mages. This army is short of them.”
“Not that you’re exactly battle mages,” Souda remarked.
Rosethorn chuckled. “We aren’t what the generals order when they call for battle mages at all. We can’t throw fire, we can’t make things explode, and we can’t send a hundred catapult stones flying through the air at once.”
“Hey!” Briar said, offended. “We can do better things than that!”
“Oh, he’s a man, all right,” Souda said, rolling her eyes. Riverdancer laughed once her translator relayed what the princess had said.
“We can,” Briar argued, grinning. “We can put acres of thorn vines down among the enemy in a flash. We can ask the grasses to tangle the soldiers’ feet and the feet of the horses. We can make their wood useless to them. You’ll see!”
“They will see,” Rosethorn agreed. “And I have a few other ideas. Most of the temple mages and shamans are healers, and they can use our medicines. We’ll help in the tents when we can, but when it comes time for armies, we are battle mages.” She got to her feet and wandered off into the darkness.
Briar returned to their tent to make sure his armor was in order and he had plenty of seed balls ready for the next day, then went over Rosethorn’s things as well. When he began to yawn, he went to use the privy for the last time.
On his way back to bed, Briar saw Rosethorn and Parahan talking in the shadows near one of the supply tents. They stood close together — very close. He squinted, trying to get a better look without going over to them. Something in their postures said they would not welcome an interruption. Then Parahan rested a hand on Rosethorn’s hip.
Briar turned away and briskly walked to his tent. He knew that Rosethorn sometimes slept with people other than Lark. He knew that Lark knew that Rosethorn sometimes slept with other people than her. Rosethorn had done so twice since they had left Winding Circle. Briar simply was never certain how he felt about it. This was the first time he actually knew one of those someones before anything happened.
Why am I surprised? he wondered as he pulled off his boots. They’ve been circling around each other since we met up near the border. And it’s Parahan. If I was damohi, I’d give Parahan the eye myself.
Am I worried she’ll decide to stay here? Because she won’t. She doesn’t love the plants here like the ones back home; she hates the emperor; Gyongxe doesn’t have near enough trees, and I don’t think she’d ever let go of Lark.
He was still trying to decide what his feelings were when he fell asleep.
By the time she left Parahan’s tent at dawn, Rosethorn felt more normal than she had in some time. Evvy’s loss remained an ache deep in her heart, but overall Rosethorn felt as if her body was her own once more, not a puppet that moved at the directions of the Treasures and the priests of the Sealed Eye. For the first time, with Parahan, she had not heard the faint whispers that had been in her mind since she took charge of the Treasures.
He’d been every bit the lover she had hoped, too, humorous and caring, attentive without smothering her. His queen, whoever he chose one day, would be a lucky woman. She sent a prayer up to Mila of the Fields and Grain that he would find someone who could appreciate him.
They had deliberately not spoken of the war all night. Now Rosethorn’s awareness of it returned as she greeted her friends in the camp. Everyone was up and preparing to move, packing the tents and loading supply animals and wagons. Briar must have gone to breakfast, she decided when she walked into their tent. His gear was ready. Only his armor and her own lay out. Her things, of course, had not been touched since she had put them in the tent last night.
She could hear the creaks and groans of thawing ice and snow in the mountains as the thin sunlight warmed everything. Somewhere closer a horse grumbled deep in his chest. She frowned. It seemed too far away to be one of their own horses. Had they sent out scouts, or were these enemy spies? She cursed the day she’d touched the Treasures. The lingering effects made her life so confusing. Namka of the Sealed Eye said they would wear off in time. The problem was that his idea of time seemed to be very relaxed by her standards.
She was struggling with her armor when Briar returned from breakfast. Seeing his knowing smirk and realizing he knew where she’d spent her night, she cocked an eyebrow, daring him to give her sauce about it. Only once had he questioned her right to choose sleeping partners as she wished. They’d had a nice talk about choices being between someone and that someone’s lover, and there had been no more discussion. She had only had to lightly slap the back of his head for foolishness once.
Apparently Briar remembered their talk, because all he said was, “Did you have breakfast?”
“Spicy eggs and rice with that puffy white flatbread,” she said. “I think my eyes are still watering from the chilies.” She shook her head. Her mouth was still burning a little. “It wakes me up better than tea, though. You could have joined us. Parahan and Souda asked where you were.”
Briar shrugged. “We had mushroom pancakes over at Riverdancer’s fire — very nice.” He saw her struggle with the side lacings of her cuirass. “Here, I’ll manage that, and you tie mine.” She lifted her arms so he could see better. As he tightened the woven silk cords he inhaled and murmured, “I smell sandalwood.”