Allavin leaned back and folded his arms. “Maybe two hundred, if that. The village in the Riven Wood used to supply provisions for the watchpost of Jove Stand in the Kingshadow. They haven’t had word from Avisahn in at least a hundred years. But my weapons are from Citadellian. That’s another watchpost in the Kingshadow – the southern end. You heard of it?” Thealos nodded. He hadn’t learned about them in Avisahn, but Jaerod had used a charred stick one evening to map them in the dirt. “No matter. A good group of Shae. All of them.” Thealos saw pain in his eyes, a rush of emotion that seemed to burn.
“And what are you doing in Castun?” Thealos asked.
The woodsman’s cheek twitched. His countenance fell and his eyes narrowed with some awful memory. He glanced at the faces around the table. “Not long ago, I went with a group of Shae scouts into the south borders of the Shadows Wood. The whole banned Shoreland regiment is holed up there right now.” Sturnin stiffened, and the woodsman nodded. “Hate’s own truth, Sturnin. It was Tsyrke Phollen’s regiment. Just sitting there, getting ready to siege Landmoor. Phollen isn’t there yet, but word is he’s coming.”
Ticastasy’s eyes went wide with shock. She glanced across the table at Flent who shared her expression.
Allavin shook his head in disgust. “But they’re not just waiting to siege the fortress. They were digging up something in the swamp. A strange plant or root – looked like moss. Ballinaire himself was there overseeing it.”
“Fury,” Sturnin Goff muttered in awe, leaning forward. “Ballinaire himself is down here? We had heard he was still rotting in the mountains. I wish I had been there to cleave his head from his shoulders.”
“No,” Allavin replied, coughing. “No, you don’t wish you were there. I was the only one who made it out alive.”
Thealos felt his heart pinch in his chest. “What happened to the Shae…”
“Killed to the last man,” Allavin replied grimly. He looked hard at them. “By a Sleepwalker.”
XXI
I’m sorry to hear that,” Thealos told Allavin earnestly, rising to his feet. He kept all expression from his face, though his stomach clenched with worry. “It’s never easy losing our friends. Linger with us. I’m sure you and Sturnin would like to talk.” Without waiting for a response, he retreated to a window seat and sat down. What am I doing here? he asked himself.
The Catpaw Inn was warm and comfortable. A cool breeze had finally dispelled the awful heat of the day. Thealos folded his arms, breathing in the rich smells of spicy stew and bread and feeling nauseated by it. He stared at the reflections in the window glass. It was too dark a night and poorly lit outside to see much more than the image of the common room painted on the glass by the lamps inside the inn.
Back at the corner table, Sturnin conferred with Allavin. They spoke in low tones, using the table in front of them as a map of the land. The tracker drew out where the Bandit armies had positioned themselves – or at least when he had last seen them. A Bandit regiment had gathered in the Shadows Wood. How far away?
Flent nudged Justin’s elbow, flipping through a stack of Bones and trying to teach the game yet again to the Warder Shae. Justin sipped from his cup of tea, withdrawn and impassive, his eyes straying to the other patrons in the room. There were smiths and tanners and woodsmen at nearly every table now, and the Warder Shae seemed to shrivel up as he glared at them all. Thealos decided to talk to him later and give him some measure of Shae companionship. He looked very miserable and edgy, though not as much when Flent spoke to him.
“Don’t tell me you can see anything out there,” Ticastasy whispered over his shoulder, her voice soft and mocking. She brought him his goblet of Silvan wine.
He cocked his head and gave her a weary smile. “No,” he said after taking a sip. “But we like others to believe we have eyes as good as a Drugaen’s.”
She sat down next to him on the window seat, their legs brushing. She leaned back against the polished oak siding, regarding him. Her hair was slipping free of the piece of violet fabric, loose and combed.
“I feel a little out of place here tonight,” she said, glancing at the common room and shaking her head. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s wonderful watching the other girls doing all the work. But part of me feels guilty – like I should be helping with the dishes or something.”
“This place is a little slower than business in the Foxtale. I imagine ships dock at the wharves at all hours.”
“Yes, but the mood is much nicer here. Talbin is wonderful. It would be easy working for him. See how he asks the girls gently, doing everything in the shadows. Even when that girl dropped a platter, he didn’t fuss.” She shook her head. “Roye would have started swearing.”
Thealos nodded in understanding. “It’s…quiet here.”
“It’s only quiet because it caters to men like you,” she replied, giving him a pointed look.
He shrugged.
“I can’t figure you out, Quickfellow,” she said with a hint of a pout.