Wilder’s already-flushed face reddened. “I have a, um, girl in a village up by the Jovan Road. She told me last year a number of ’em come through the south pass last May. They raided a string of farms, and disappeared. The army caught a few, but she said there were dozens.”
The Jovan Pass had been buttoned up by the army around that time. What if those Kimisar had been trapped on this side of the mountains? “Are you thinking that’s where they went? Into Casmun?” she asked.
“That’s my guess.” The corporal took a swig from his wineskin.
Sage glanced over at Alex, who was talking quietly to Ash Carter, far out of earshot. “Have you told your opinion to Sergeant Carter?”
“I doubt he’d listen. Sergeants stick together, in my experience.” Wilder shook his head. “It probably don’t matter anyway. Desert likely swallowed the bastards up.”
Sage only nodded, but she couldn’t help wondering if all the Kimisar had truly left.
28
ALEX STARED AT the group around the fire, where Sage was again deep in conversation with one of the Rangers. They were mostly discussing the local geography when Alex had left, and in true Sage fashion, she was happiest when she was learning something. Her smile never quite reached her eyes, however, which made Alex realize how little Sage had smiled at all in the past few weeks. The one time she’d looked across the flames at him that night, he could almost hear her daring him to say something.
After tracking her down on the first day, he’d worried about her constantly, but she’d obeyed his order and never strayed from the camp, even when he was gone. Whenever the Norsari had returned from a training patrol, Sage peppered them with questions, mostly on flora and fauna they’d seen. Probably she was feeling cooped up, hence her interest in talking with those who’d seen more of the area. He felt a little bad about that, but keeping her here was safer for everyone. Safer for him.
Cass, Gram, and Ash still trusted him, though that would change if they ever realized the horrible truth of what Sage’s presence meant. Keeping his distance from her was agony at times, especially when he could see she was unhappy, but it was bad enough that his friends knew about their relationship. Though Alex had never entered her tent after that first day, he’d spent several minutes of nights past watching her silhouette as she sat up late, writing. When Alex’s first report left for Tennegol, she’d added her own thick packet to the dispatch. A pang had gone through him at the thought that none of it would ever be for him.
“Who are you writing to?” he’d asked. “You realize this mission is a secret, right?”
Sage tossed her head, which she still did despite her lack of hair. “Some of them are progress reports on the prince for Their Majesties. The rest are private letters for Clare, who already knows I’m here.”
“What in the world could you have to discuss in such detail?”
She smirked. “Are you worried they’re about you?”
That was exactly what he was afraid of.
“Read them if you want,” Sage said, waving her hand like it didn’t matter. “I know you’ve never fully trusted me.”
That was a low blow, and Alex’s first instinct had been to leave them alone. An hour later, he realized that she’d rather skillfully manipulated him, and he broke the seal and read her letters without any feelings of guilt. After all, a commander was expected to closely monitor all communications, especially during sensitive missions.
Her writing was witty and entertaining but carefully neutral in describing camp workings and routines, which would give no enemy significant information if it was intercepted. Everything was so benign Alex couldn’t believe there wasn’t some kind of code within. Through the night he read them several times over, forward and backward, but try as he might, he could find no pattern, even in the passages about him. Those rather painfully described her loneliness and confusion at his keeping her at arm’s length.
He remade the seal and gave Sage no sign that he’d read her correspondence. Later an equally thick package arrived for her from Clare, and though he had every right to read the letters, he passed them on without comment. When Sage brought another bundle to be sent with the weekly dispatch, he managed to resist opening it for two hours. He craved her voice and her insight and her humor, even if it was tinged with sadness. Most of all, he needed the reassurance that she still loved him.
Another dispatch would go out in two days. He was already looking forward to tomorrow night’s reading.
Outside the circle of firelight, Ash followed his gaze to the gathered soldiers. “How is Sage doing out here in the rough?” he asked quietly, though they were out of earshot of anyone.
“Never complains,” Alex said. “At least not that I’ve heard.”
Ash pushed his black hair out of his eyes. “You say that like you haven’t talked to her.”
“I haven’t.”
His friend sighed. “Alex, I don’t want to get in the middle of this—”
“Then don’t.” Alex tore his eyes away from Sage and focused on the sergeant. “You’re here to report.”
Ash shook his head. “I already told you everything, which was nothing.”
A pit formed in Alex’s stomach. “I thought you went to where the Casmuni had camped.”
“I did. It wasn’t helpful.”
Alex hadn’t expected much after eight months of exposure to the elements. “But they showed you where they found what they did. What are your thoughts?”
“It’s not the place I would’ve picked to set up camp,” said Ash. “Visibility was limited in most directions, and it was a poor place to cross the river, even in August.” The Kaz was currently running high and fast with melting mountain snow. Alex hadn’t ventured across it yet, hoping it would calm in the next couple weeks. “What it did have was a fairly clear path to the Jovan Road.”
“Which must have been their goal.” Alex folded his arms and turned away from the fire to resist looking in its direction.
“Maybe.” Ash shrugged. “I’m going to head upriver tomorrow and see if I can get us a few boats from one of the villages. Could be handy.”
Alex nodded. “Sounds like a good idea. Quick communication and travel, at least in one direction.”
“Exactly.”
Neither spoke for another half minute, during which Alex’s eyes wandered to the fire again. “The new moon is in two days,” he said finally. “The ambassador had aimed to leave by then. It takes about ten days for our dispatches to reach Tennegol. He’ll cross paths with my second and third reports of nothing. It won’t look good.”
The sergeant leaned against a tree trunk, making him appear even shorter. “I’m as frustrated as you. We still have at least three weeks before he gets here, though.”
“Ash?” His friend looked up. “What if there’s nothing to find?”
Ash shook his head. “No one comes in like that for no reason. They’ll be back.”
It felt strange to hope for a foreign invasion to repel, but somehow Alex felt like his career depended on it.
29
SAGE ENTERED THE command tent when bidden, a bundle of letters in hand. Alex looked up from where he sat, writing his report. “It’s getting late,” he said. “I was wondering if you were going to make this dispatch.”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t leave until morning.”
“So it doesn’t.” Alex went back to his work, but not before she noticed the eager gleam in his eye. “You can put them in the satchel with the rest.”
“Thank you.” Sage knelt down and lifted the flap of the leather bag sitting on the ground. There wasn’t much in there. She frowned. This could be problematic. She tucked hers in and stood. “Not much this week,” she said casually.
Alex gestured to the stack on the corner of his table. “Oh, I’m about to weigh it down some more.”
Sage relaxed. He must be adding what Ash had learned while he was away. Alex was also much more cheerful than usual. No doubt because he’d have something to read tonight. Maybe now was a good time. “Captain—” she began, and he glanced up sharply. “Alex,” she continued. “I heard you’re going across the river with a team tomorrow.”
Alex narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “I am.”