Django Wexler - The Thousand Names

The other two Desoltai started to shout and raise their swords, but Onvidaer moved so fast he was a blur. He grabbed the sword arm of the first, twisting it easily out of the way with another crack , then punched the man in the chest. Something crunched, and the Desoltai staggered backward. Before he could fall, Onvidaer spun behind the third man, grasped his head between his palms, and twisted it one hundred eighty degrees.

The two Desoltai silently collapsed. Feor, still staring at where Onvidaer had been, was trembling.

“Let these two go, then,” Feor said. “But she must feel me die.”

“No!” Winter said involuntarily.

“She must!” Feor said, turning to face Onvidaer. “Or you will die in my place.”

The young man’s face was an agony of indecision. He raised one hand halfheartedly, then let it fall. Feor, shaking her head in frustration, bent to snatch up one of the fallen Desoltai’s weapons.

“Wait,” Winter said, thinking desperately. “Just wait.”

Onvidaer turned to her, apparently aware for the first time that she was speaking his language.

“A Vordanai patrol turned up,” Winter said. “Ten men. Twenty,” she corrected, thinking of the speed at which Onvidaer had moved. “You had to fight your way free.”

Feor’s eyes glittered with tears. Onvidaer cocked his head, considering.

“A patrol,” he said. “Following you.”

Winter nodded eagerly, but Feor shook her head. “You will still be punished for failure!”

“Punished, but not killed,” said Onvidaer. “I will endure.”

“I-”

“Go,” he said, gently removing the Desoltai blade from her grip. “Take your friends and go. Leave, and never return.”

Feor fell to her knees. “N-never. .”

Onvidaer looked up at Winter. “You will care for her?”

“Yes,” Winter said without hesitation.

“Good. Do not make me regret allowing you to live.”

He turned and ran after his mistress, great loping strides carrying him along faster than he had any right to move. Winter, Bobby, and Feor were left alone with the three Desoltai corpses.

Flames were licking ever higher into the sky. Winter fought her instinctive desire to curl into a ball and hide. Instead, she stepped closer to Feor. The Khandarai girl had her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Winter touched her tentatively.

“Feor,” she said, when this drew no response. “Feor!”

Feor looked up, her normally impassive face flushed gray-red and streaked with soot and tears. Winter grabbed her roughly by the arm and hauled her to her feet.

“We have to go. We can’t stay here.” She gestured at the flames. “Come on!”

“I. .” Feor shook her head feebly. “No. Leave me here. Just. .”

“You heard him,” Winter snapped. “I’m supposed to take care of you. Now come on, or Bobby and I will carry you!”

That got Feor moving, at least into a stumbling walk that Winter guided with a hand on her shoulder. Bobby fell in on the other side, having claimed one of the falchions from the dead Desoltai.

“Sir,” she said, over Feor’s lowered head, “what the hell just happened?”

Winter shook her head. Without any knowledge of Khandarai, Bobby was totally in the dark, but Winter didn’t feel much better off herself.

“I wish I knew,” Winter said. “I’ll explain what I can later. For now. .” She glanced over her shoulder at the growing wall of flame. “I think it’s time to run.”

MARCUS

Marcus could see from Razzan-dan-Xopta’s expression that the conference had not gone well. He stood hastily as Janus emerged from the august presence of the prince, trailing the Khandarai minister like an overinflated silk balloon.

“Colonel,” Razzan said, wringing his hands, “perhaps it was my translations that were at fault here. I urge you-”

“Your translations were adequate,” Janus snapped. “Also, as you know, unnecessary. I believe that all that needs to be said has been said. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a march to organize.”

“But. . the prince has forbidden it!”

“I have informed the prince of my intentions. He is welcome to take whatever steps he feels are necessary.”

Janus made a shooing motion, then beckoned to Marcus, who fell into step behind him. They left the bewildered minister gaping like a landed fish.

“I take it he wasn’t pleased,” Marcus murmured.

“He called me a coward and a traitor,” Janus said. “How refusing to sit behind the walls of Ashe-Katarion makes me a coward, I’m not sure I understand, but no doubt the minds of royalty work in mysterious ways.”

“You can’t blame him,” Marcus said. “He’s frightened.”

“I don’t blame him for that. I only wish he would accept the reality of the situation.”

The reality of the situation, of course, was that the colonel could do as he liked. The prince had a handful of Heavenly Guards and Jaffa’s Justices, and the loyalty of the latter was far from certain. Janus could depose the monarch with a wave of his hand, and they both knew it. Still, old habits died hard, and the Vermillion Throne continued to issue “commands” to its Vordanai allies.

That, in this case, the prince might be right made it all the worse from Marcus’ point of view. He coughed. Janus turned to look at him, gray eyes glittering.

“You don’t approve,” the colonel said.

“Of the way you dealt with the prince? Of course I approve. It’s about time someone-”

“No,” Janus said. “You don’t want to march.”

“I had wondered whether it is entirely. . wise,” Marcus admitted.

“I’ve told you before that you may speak your mind to me, as long as we’re in private.” Janus gestured at the empty corridor. “Speak.”

“I follow your logic, as far as it goes,” Marcus said. “I agree that the fires and the assassination attempt mean the Desoltai may still be nearby. But if we pursue, they’ll fall back into the Desol, and following them seems like it would be playing right into their hands.”

“You worry we won’t be able to defeat them?”

“I worry that they won’t fight at all,” Marcus said. “The Desoltai aren’t like ordinary soldiers. You can go days without seeing them, and then suddenly they’re on top of you like a swarm of angry hornets. They let the desert do their work for them, and trying to strike back is like punching a mist.” Marcus had become more fervent than he intended, and he took a moment to regain his decorum. “My concern is that we won’t be able to force a decisive action.”

“They have towns, I know. Camps. Oases from which they draw their supplies.”

“They do, but they’re hidden in the depths of the Desol. There are no maps, no roads. Finding them. .” Marcus shrugged.

Janus looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook his head. “This time is different, Captain. They attempt to bring the Names to a place of safety. If we can keep close enough on their heels, they will eventually lead us to it.”

“The Names,” Marcus said flatly, and suppressed a sigh. Janus had still refused to explain the exact nature of his mysterious treasure. He tried a new tack. “And you’ve considered that the prince may be right to worry? Without the Colonials to keep order, Ashe-Katarion may rise against him.”

“Unlikely. Whatever standing the Redeemers had left with the people was lost with the fire.”

“That doesn’t mean they like the prince any better. If they string him up from the walls, we’ll have trouble keeping order in all of Khandar.”

“It’s an acceptable risk,” Janus said. “We must have the Names.”