“Of course. I thought he was with you,” the knight replied. “Don’t get me wrong, I have a healthy respect for Sleepwalkers. Just as I have a healthy respect for the Crimson Wolfsmen.” He gave Thealos a small chuckle. “But I sent a warning to Dos-Aralon in any case about the two of you with word that I’d try and follow along. Whatever the Bandits might be paying for something like that, you can be sure Dos-Aralon can counter any offer.”
Thealos folded his arms. “I won’t speak treason against your king, Sturnin Goff. I may not like the king of Dos-Aralon, but I have no reason to want him dead. Besides, we’re not exactly going that direction.”
“Then why are you in the Shoreland? Those Wolfsmen in Sol weren’t looking for me.”
Thealos felt a little exasperated. “You expect a confession? I’m not a fool, nor am I part of your country. What were you doing in Sol? That’s a long way from Owen Draw.”
“I was in the Foxtale for a reason, lad. The Duke of Owen Draw was given a message that the Bandit Commander of the Shoreland Regiment wanted to meet the Knight General in Sol. We’ve heard there have been some conflict between the leaders. The message didn’t say anything about Kiran Thall.” He cocked his head, his eyes boring hard in Thealos’. “The Knight General sent me to see if this was a Gray Legion ruse or not. And for my trouble, I got attacked by a company of Kiran Thall. Now I’m asking you again, boy. Do you have any idea what you’re dealing with out here? Sleepwalkers don’t just wander the Shoreland. Was it chance we happened to be in the same tavern that night? Out with it.”
“So you were sent to meet with a Bandit Commander?” Thealos hedged, feeling his stomach tighten in knots. He remembered that Jaerod had left him on the streets of Sol to meet with someone. Confusion welled up in his mind. He needed time to sort this out and not look like a fool in front of the others. “You are suggesting that Jaerod is involved with the Bandit Rebellion and want to know if the Shae are as well?”
“Can you give me any reason to believe he isn’t?”
At the moment, Thealos could not and was glad when Flent interrupted.
“Hopefully your duke didn’t pay in gold to hear those Gray Legion lies,” Flent said. “I’ve been working at the Foxtale for eight years. I know all the regulars.” He waved his hand and chuckled. “A Bandit Commander? In Sol? We get Sheven-Ingen pirates, drunken wrecks from Copperyon and even farther. But the Foxtale ain’t a Bandit hideout. That was the first time the Kiran Thall ever came into our place.”
“What about the Sleepwalker?” Sturnin challenged.
“Sure he is a Sleepwalker,” the Drugaen answered with a shrug. “And what law in Dos-Aralon is there about being a Sleepwalker? The man has stopped by over the last few months, but only to talk and play Bones. Maybe he’s a spy, but he’s no Bandit general.”
“Then maybe he knows where I can find him,” the knight replied. “You sent the girl riding to Castun. I’m assuming he’s there.”
Thealos felt trapped and cursed himself. “He said… he would leave a message for us there.”
The knight smirked. “You’re a bad liar. Surprises me, coming from a Shae. But I suppose we’ll see soon enough when we reach the trading post. You see, I’ll find out one way or another.” He cocked one of his eyebrows. “Now why don’t you tell me why those Wolfsmen were after you?”
“You don’t really think I’m going to tell you, do you?” Thealos countered, meeting the knight’s stare with his own.
The knight paused, feeding the air with tension. Finally, he muttered something under his breath and shook his head. “If you were drowning in a river and I was on shore, I’d toss you a rope.” Sturnin’s voice softened. “Don’t haggle that it’s too coarse. If your intentions are good, I’d like to help you get out.”
Thealos sighed. “I appreciate the gesture. I know more than I can say right now. But I’m a good swimmer despite what you may think about my swordsmanship.” He paused and stared down at his boots, steeling himself. He looked up at Sturnin again. “And maybe you and your king are in the river and haven’t realized it yet.”
*
Thealos and the others marched up and down the undulating hills just within the borders of the Shadows Wood. Sweat streaked down Thealos’ face, and he mopped it up with his sleeve. He glanced backwards, watching Flent struggle to keep up, his thick legs leaving him slightly behind. The Drugaen had tried early that morning to teach Justin how to play Bones, but the game was lost on the older Shae, who smiled bemusingly at him and made all the wrong moves. Sturnin Goff walked with his sword strapped across his back. He was sweating heavily in the glinting armor, but he was stronger and more fit than any of them and marched without complaint. They stopped to rest at midday, savoring the break from the humid, scorching air.
Sitting on a crooked stump, Thealos withdrew his water flask and carefully doused the sack of Everoot with it. Then he splashed some of the river water on the back of his neck and savored the coolness. As it dripped down his back, he watched the Warder Shae draw near.
“You have it,” Justin said.