“That communion is only allowed among brothers! You should know that…”
“I am your brother,” Thealos said. “I may not have walked the same Way as you. But I have communed with that magic. You remember it from Sol. It accepted me then. It accepted me now. If it still does…won’t you?”
Xenon’s gaze turned cold, aloof. “You have no right to the magic, boy. You have not earned it.”
“Let the magic decide that, Xenon. Please.”
A warm breeze tugged at their tunics and cloaks. The sound of a whippoorwill ghosted in the air.
Xenon’s expression hardened. He gritted his teeth. “Show us what you’ve seen of the tunnels. The way in. The way out. Some part of it may be useful to us.”
He drew the short sword, blade down, and left room on the pommel for Thealos to grab.
The memories flared to life again.
Chapter XXV
Exeres crouched in the matted grass and dabbed some paste from the ointment jar on Flent’s cut cheek. The sting made the Drugaen wince and flinch. His big fingers opened and clenched, repeatedly, his eyes burning with anger at the Crimson Wolfsmen surrounding the small camp, his lips set.
He wasn’t the only one who hated Xenon. Exeres swiped away the residue of the paste with his little finger and smoothed it back into the jar before twisting the lid tight and stuffing it all back into his supplies. Ticastasy sat near, arms folded around her drawn-up knees, and she too glared at where Xenon stood with…what was his name? Thealos! With Thealos.
“He would have knocked you down too,” he pointed out to her softly, tilting Flent’s chin and examining his throat. A nasty bruise splotched his skin beneath the mat of his beard. It looked painful.
“I know,” she replied, her eyes not leaving them. She turned away, her face screwing up like a walnut shell. “I thought the Shae were honorable. I had no idea they were such beggars. Banned…”
Exeres touched her arm and shook his head.
Her scowl deepened. “I didn’t see you try and stand up to them.”
He let his bitterness out with a chuckle and grunt. “Well, after I noticed how well they received us, even one of their own? Poor Justin. He can’t speak a word of king’s common and the Shae who speak Silvan won’t because he’s Kilshae.” It made him think about his poor mother. What Kilshae community had she taken up with eventually? He knew she would not be allowed in Avisahn. How far had she wandered in order to find a home?
“How’s Flent?”
“I’m not deaf, girl,” the Drugaen said, his voice thick.
“I doubt this was the first time Flent’s been knocked down.” Exeres clapped him soundly on the back. “He probably does enough of the knocking down, though. I imagine it’s only fair he get the brunt now and then.”
Both of them cast him angry looks.
“The secret to happiness is a sense of humor,” he told them. He watched Xenon nod to Thealos and they both started towards them. “They’re coming. Be polite, you two.”
Exeres stood and stretched, twisting his neck until he felt it pop. Ticastasy and Flent made it to their feet as well. Justin remained aloof, sitting beneath the limbs of a towering cedar tree, banished beyond the perimeter of the camp.
Thealos approached and folded his arms, showing deference to the Wolfsman by letting him speak. Exeres tried to catch his eye and nod, but the Shae glanced over their shoulders at Justin.
“We have learned much,” Xenon said, casting a narrowed glance over at Thealos. “The danger is greater than we feared. Our situation is perilous. If we delay, we risk being cut off by Ballinaire’s army as it descends from the Shadows Wood. If we must fight, we would rather it be in the open plains than against a citadel. If the human leading the rebellion in Landmoor does indeed seek a truce…which I for one doubt…then we’d best offer him terms before sunrise.” He looked straight at Exeres. “You think he will hear a message from you, Druid?” The condescending tone in his voice made Exeres’ stomach sour.
“I believe he will.”
Xenon opened his hands. “The message is simple, if you can remember it. Tell him that we’ve been warned against his treachery. If he seeks fair dealings with the Shae, he must prove his good faith. He must open the south gates of the city and hobble them open. That will be his signal to us for a truce. When we see the gates open, we will meet him half-way up the slope of the hill.” Xenon’s face hardened. “But if that black-robed old man is there, or if we catch the slightest whiff of Forbidden magic, then we will know he’s betrayed us and the city will burn. But we will discuss a truce first. He has this one chance only.”