Chris Northern - The Last King's Amulet

“Someone will prosecute, you aren't without enemies, Sumto.”

“…might prosecute if my letter to my father doesn't bear fruit.”

“What letter?”

“I just thought of it and won't write it yet, but I can get him to write me an authority as an emergency measure. He is a proconsul and has a perfect legal right to do so. And even if someone does prosecute it will make a good story, and what's the worst that can happen?”

We moved to the entrance and stepped out into the dusk. Our camp fire was lit and a servant was cooking up the rations that had been passed out. Kerral sat on a stool outside the tent he shared with Sheo. The susurration of hundreds of conversations, both near and far, filled the air with an almost familiar current; the odd louder sound, physical or verbal, just a known counterpoint. Of my charges, the healers were louder and more jovial, the battle mages quieter and more secretive. I could hear and not hear them in exactly the proportions I already expected. I felt like I had always been here, like I belonged.

We crossed to Kerral, who stood as I came close, and quietly informed him of what I intended. He nodded his approval, not quite smiling but clearly pleased. I hoped he would still be pleased at the end of the year.

“Exile.” It was Kerral who answered the question after having repeated Sheo's warnings.

“So I accept the risk. Any questions?”

At that moment Meran arrived with my maps so there were none. I unrolled them one at a time then and there until I had what I wanted. I gave the map of southern Gerria a cursory glance until I found what I wanted in the territory of the client kingdom of Wherrel. “The town of Yuprit. Don't camp close enough to upset anyone.”

I left the map with him and went back into my tent, taking Meran with me.

“I need you to steal something.”

“It's what I live for.”

“If you get caught you won't live.”

“Oh good. I'm so lucky to have such a considerate master, some of you city nobles are right bastards.”

“If you want to say no say no.”

“What is it?”

“A white rod.”

He closed his eyes and deliberately didn't let out the explosive breath that he just managed to catch behind his pressed lips. Then he let it out. Slowly. “There are only two close. Either one will be missed.”

“I need one.”

“Make one.”

“What?”

“It's a rod made out of white wood with two gold tips, quite plain. Easy to make.”

I gave it a moment's thought. “I don't know how to make anything.”

“I do, master. Leave it to me. Safer than stealing and no one will know the difference. When do you need it?”

“By dawn?”

He gave me an openly filthy look. He didn't do that often, he is a slave after all. “Anything else?”

“No, Meran. Nothing else,” that I can think of at the moment.

After he'd left I spent a time studying the maps, I really wanted to know the territory of the Gerrian tribes. Then I joined Lentro and the other healers for the evening meal. By the time I made it to bed the simple camp cot felt almost comfortable.

Waking up before dawn was not as bad as I had been led to believe. I put on the armor my father had sent for me, magically enhanced and higher quality than the stuff Meran had acquired. He had sent two swords, a straight blade long enough to serve as a cavalry sword and yet be easily used on foot, and a much shorter sword that we commonly term an honor blade, not quite as long as my arm. Both were expensive items. There was also a shield suitable for use on horseback. And a belt which I recognized from the family armory, and knew that a stone had been sacrificed to create it. It would envelop me in a finger-wide shield of near invisible armor. With or without the chain I would have some protection.

Now I looked as I should and I was glad of it.

Meran had come through for me. The white rod was given to recruiters, who could be commoners, by anyone with authority to raise troops. Some people might want to see it, but these things were fairly fast and loose. The fact that Sheo was a noble should be enough. Still, better safe than sorry.

Dressed and shaved before first watch, I wrapped the fairly good copy in cloth and crossed to Sheo's tent. I nudged his slave, who slept across the threshold, and indicated he should wake his master who soon came to the entrance.

“Tuck it away,” I whispered. “Only show it if you need to.”

He unwrapped the cloth enough to see what I had for him, then wrapped it tight and tucked it in his belt with a thoughtful nod.

“Good luck.”

I left him there and headed for the command tent. It was only the second time I had done so but it already felt like a habit. The camp was still and the early morning air was cool but not cold. I enjoyed the newish experience. There was hardly any movement. I could barely see the walls. There were no torches lit there; any such light would ruin the sentinels' night vision, which had been enhanced by the battle mages, one of them taking the duty each evening, wandering off and back again when the deed was done. Not for the first time, I thought that the battle mages had the best job in the camp. Hardly any duties and no responsibilities worth the mention. Their booty share was high, too.

The commander's tent was lit from within already and I was not the first to arrive. Gatren Orans, the commander's aide, was standing just inside the doorway. “Mistletoe,” he told me before I had to ask for the day's password. There was no guarantee that the command staff would arrive and leave at the same time so this was one of those small duties that devolved to the aide. Other than that he stayed close to the commander and watched what he did, sometimes asked why he did it, and ran such small chores as the commander saw fit to entrust him with.

Knowing the password meant that my purpose here was served, there would be no daily orders for me, no briefing on a special task. Still, I had to wait until Tulian acknowledged and then dismissed me. It rankled. He was my aunt's son, my cousin and only three or four years older than me. He finished what he was saying, nothing important, and dismissed the commander he'd been instructing. Then he acknowledged my presence with a nod and beckoned me forward, which was a surprise.

“You have spent too much time with the healers. If you are going to dine with the sorcerers spread yourself about a bit.”

Okay. Well that was a surprise, too. “Yes sir.”

“That's all.”

I saluted and left and thought about it on the way back. Who cared? They were my charges, and no more than that. My duties were to keep them happy and protect the battle mages on the battlefield, the healers having whole centuries intent on keeping them safe in their own self interest. The battle mages jealous of my attention to their rivals? No way. Probably no way. I'd spoken to them very briefly and they had spoken to me even more briefly. They had shown no indication that they were the least interested in me, and there was little reason why they should be, unless they were worried that I might do a sloppy job of protecting them if I didn't like them. It didn't wash. I reviewed the four in my mind, Tall and Fat and Old and their student, Thin. I didn't even know their names. I wondered if they knew mine. It was one more thing to mull over and leave semi-resolved. I'd prefer to have an answer that I could promptly forget about, but life is rarely that simple. Some things that happen you never understand.

I was still mulling it over while I gobbled down a bowl of porridge and supped a mug of tea. By the time I was done the camp was roused and we were off for another day of riding at walking pace and trotting when the soldiers were ordered to double-time. Anyone who wasn't fit now would be fit by the time we arrived. My body had not stopped protesting at the harsh treatment but I had tried to stop paying attention to it. I would toughen up soon enough – and Meran had appeared with ointment to rub into my legs, butt and back each night. Some nobles would have their slaves do it, some slaves would offer, and doubtless there were those who would make play of it. Meran had just tossed the jar onto my bed and left. Can't say I blame him. I tried to imagine how he would have responded if I'd ordered him to do the job for me and his imagined response made me laugh aloud. Kerral gave me a funny look which I affected not to notice. Still, the sudden laugh had unsettled even me. I didn't think I was under that much pressure but I had a nagging feeling that there were too many things going on that I didn't get. Sapphire's regular features and sharp blue eyes came unbidden to mind. The evening before he had brought my father's loans to my tent, guided by Meran who made it clear with his facial expression and shrug that Sapphire had insisted on delivering them in person. It was late. I had eaten and returned to my tent to find them there, waiting. They had followed me inside and Sapphire had placed the armor and weapons on my camp desk which was just up to taking the weight. I was put out by the lateness of the hour. It would have been more polite to visit earlier.