The Blood Mirror

Still, what nineteen-year-old was going to take retirement well?

From the screams, the Blood Robes who had fled into the woods were encountering the will-cast jaguars and mountain lions waiting there. In the darkness, those who fled had no chance. As far as the White King was concerned, these wagons would simply disappear.

No. This had been a trap, a sacrifice. That meant the White King would want to know how and if it had worked—or why it hadn’t.

Kip said, “There will have been at least one scout stationed to see if the trap worked. The pit was to kill Tallach. The black powder was to kill me and as many of the rest of us as possible. So… two scouts, at least.” Kip looked around. He couldn’t see the hills in the darkness, but he’d memorized the map of this area. If the White King had been expecting a huge explosion, his scouts wouldn’t need to be close. But if you wanted to see how many of the enemy you killed in that explosion, you had to have a sight line. “Send the hounds over to that hill there, and get the war dogs going up Tenling Rise over there. Send some mounted men with them, in case it’s a long pursuit. The one on the rise will be mounted, trying for speed.”

The orders were relayed, and Cruxer said, “Now will you please get your ass away from here, Breaker?”

“You forgot to say ‘milord,’” Winsen said, his yellow-veined eyes sarcastic. Carelessly he flipped back the canvas covering the wagon’s payload. It revealed cannonballs and stones and iron nails all tied tight around a dozen casks of black powder.

“Yep, that’s a trap all right,” he said blithely.

“Are you insane!?” Ben-hadad shouted at Winsen. “That canvas could have been booby-trapped! It should have been booby-trapped! You idiot!”

“Uh, yeah, let’s get to a safe distance,” Kip said. “No ‘milords’ necessary.”

But in the back of his mind, the danger wasn’t Winsen. The White King had been willing to sacrifice several hundred men, half a dozen wights, and many casks of black powder just to kill Kip and Tallach.

So they knew about Tallach. He was always going to be the first secret that slipped, of course. People on either side would love to talk about a giant grizzly.

But that the Blood Robes had thought it was worth losing many men to kill Tallach? That meant the raiding phase of Kip’s war was well and truly finished. Kip’s raiders needed to become an army now. That meant giving up sapping the enemy’s strength, and trying to destroy him directly.

Kip had hoped that eventually some other satrapy would send in its men to do the large-scale killing and dying while he simply weakened the Blood Robes. That fantasy was dead now. No one was going to help them. This was their fight alone.

They’d won here tonight, but they’d come damn near a disaster. If all the White King had to do to lure Kip in was put some supplies in danger, he was going to get him eventually.

In a way, it was encouraging. A leader wouldn’t spend that many lives and that much matériel to try to take out two enemies if he could kill them more cheaply.

That meant the White King didn’t have any zealots willing to trade their lives for Kip’s, or any professional assassins in Kip’s army. Yet.

Which likely meant the next attempt would be a while. But when it came, Kip might have just made himself worth the expense of hiring a Shadow from the Order of the Broken Eye.

“Cruxer,” Kip said.

“Mm?”

“Remind me to give you a medal.”

“Sure,” Cruxer said. What had once been thin streaks of blue in his eyes were now perfectly horizontal and vertical bars that nearly glowed with amusement despite the strict professionalism of his expression.

“Wait, no, remind me to make up a medal first, so I can give it to you.”

“Uh-huh,” the commander said, using a rag to clean the gore off his spear and hands.

“Order of the Skewer, maybe?” Kip suggested.

Finally Cruxer cracked an unwilling smile. He shook his head. “You know, you can just say thanks.”

“Thank you for saving my life, Commander,” Kip said gravely.

“No thanks required, sir.”

It was Kip’s turn to smile. “That’s it. You’re getting that damn medal.”

Chapter 56

Teia was surprised that they hadn’t been thrown in a dungeon after witnessing the Nuqaba’s fury reach such crescendos that Teia froze up. The Nuqaba had actually spat on them.

It was only after the first storm had passed that Teia realized she’d missed a perfect opportunity to fake a heart attack for the Nuqaba rather than the much older satrapah. She readied her paryl in case the Nuqaba started shouting again—the woman was an erratic moving target, though, and Teia wasn’t fast enough with paryl to penetrate the skin, find a good blood vessel, and tie off a solid crystal all while the woman moved.

And then the satrapah calmed her, at least temporarily. The Nuqaba stormed out of the room, and as the supplicants and courtiers in the hall erupted in speculation, Tilleli Azmith came forward and spoke quietly to Anjali Gates. “You will stay the night.”

“I was instructed to head back to the Chromeria immediately,” Anjali Gates said.

“Would you insult us more?” she asked. “Besides, we may have an answer for you by morning, and we’ve no way to get the reply back as fast as you can. Your person will be respected; we’re not barbarians here. As a representative of the Chromeria, you’re invited to dinner tonight. It’s ‘āsōr Imbarken, which means—”

“The Blessed Ones. A feast in honor of the first ten captains to join Lucidonius, yes, I know,” Anjali Gates said. “Is it minor enough that it will be canceled?”

Her interruption wasn’t, perhaps, the deference due to a satrapah, but then, technically, Tilleli Azmith wasn’t one anymore.

“I was going to say it means another party. And no, it shan’t be canceled. The Nuqaba never shirks her religious duties. You’re invited to dinner, but I’d advise you not to attend.”

“Of course not,” Anjali said.

So they were staying. Teia was half-relieved and half-terrified. That meant she’d have a chance to complete her mission. It also meant she’d have to complete her mission.

“Chamberlain, rooms and provisions for these two,” the former satrapah said.

“If I may?” Anjali interjected. “Can you see to it that someone takes provisions to our crew? The men expected to head back today, and will instead have to stand watch all night. Some meat and wine would be a kindness.”