The Norsari coming into Casmun like this was tantamount to an act of war. Taking these men captive only made it worse. Sage had to undo the damage before Demora had a real invasion on its hands. She had to tell someone what she knew—that the Casmuni hadn’t scouted into Demora and had no intention of invading. Holding these men now risked provoking the very war Alex was trying to prevent.
Sage rose to her feet, intending to go straight to Alex, but the sudden vision of trying to explain everything stopped her cold. He wouldn’t listen. Not only had she spoken to the Casmuni, she’d gone behind his back for weeks—essentially spied against him, but that would all be eclipsed by the fact that she was here now. Alex would be so furious she wouldn’t get ten words out. Within hours of returning to camp, she’d be on her way back to Tennegol. Going through Lieutenant Gramwell or waiting until she could plead her case to Casseck wouldn’t help. At least not in time.
Darit watched as she paced, silently arguing with herself. The Casmuni king was approaching Demora cautiously, testing their “manners,” as Darit said. Sage had no doubt they’d be back next year. Whether they crossed the desert with an angry army or with the intention to talk depended on the release of these men.
If they were to be freed, she would have to do it. Alone.
Sage sank to her knees in front of Darit. “Time is little,” she said. “If I give you freedom, will you speak well of Demora?”
Darit looked skeptical. “Is that in your power, Saizsch Fahler? I have watched you, and you are lowest among these men.”
“I act without permission.”
He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Why would you do this?”
“This is all bad understanding,” she said. “I repair mistake.”
Darit struggled to sit up straight. “It will be trouble for you.”
Alex’s anger didn’t frighten her nearly as much as the consequences of holding these men too long. Her actions would go all the way to the king himself, but at least he’d listen, especially with the queen on her side. Sage set her jaw. “I am more than you see.”
“That I believe,” Darit said dryly.
Sage stood again and dusted sand off her trousers. With the new moon coming, tonight would have several dark hours. She had to start planning. “I must go,” she said, pulling her head scarf around her face, leaving only her eyes exposed.
He reached up for her hand with his bound ones. “Good fortune, Saizsch Fahler.”
She squeezed his fingers back, trying to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach. What she planned to do bordered on treason. “Be ready.”
Sage ducked out of the tent and slammed full force into Alex.
41
SAGE STUMBLED BACKWARD, but Alex caught her arm before she was fully off her feet. “Easy, kid,” he said, pulling her upright.
When she was steady, he let her go. Sage cowered away from him, her mind scrambling for traction. Henry usually avoided Alex’s attention, but he would’ve said something. “Sorry, sir,” she rasped, trying to imitate the way the squire’s voice had begun to crack and break.
“No harm.” Alex sounded tired. “Henry, isn’t it?”
She nodded, staring at the ground. Whatever she did, she could not let him see her eyes. Thank the Spirit it was still fairly dark.
“What were you doing in there, Henry?” Alex asked sternly, though he sounded slightly amused.
Sage raised the canteen so he could see it. “Giving them water,” she squeaked.
“Good initiative.” He patted her shoulder and moved around her to the tent where Darit and Malamin lay. Sage edged away as Alex lifted the flap to look inside. “Already asleep,” he said. “They’ll need it. We’re marching through the night again tonight. I want to get to the river by noon tomorrow.”
Sage had managed to take several steps, trying to look like a boy who really didn’t want to be there right now.
Alex dropped the fabric and turned away. “Get some rest, kid.”
Then he was gone.
Sage was still shaking when she reached her low tent and crawled in beside Nicholas. That had been too close, but now she knew it had to be tonight. She nudged the prince. “Harold, wake up.”
Nicholas grunted and rolled away. She punched his shoulder until he rolled back. “What do you want, Henry?” he groaned.
“I need your help.”
*
The Norsari broke camp an hour before dusk, Alex giving all the men a chance to sleep several hours between sentry rotations. Sage and Nicholas kept their backs to most of the activity as they packed tents, surreptitiously pouring lamp oil on the fabric before rolling it up. They couldn’t risk their fire being put out before it provided the distraction they needed.
Alex stayed near the prisoners while they marched, meaning she and Nicholas would have to wait until the group stopped to rest, and he moved away from them. Sage also kept an eye on the bundle that contained the weapons Darit and Malamin had been carrying when they were captured. If she could get them to the Casmuni, she would, but it was a secondary goal.
The wind picked up, bringing a thick bank of clouds that completely covered the sky. Alex tied a strip of cloth to the top of a spear and used it to orient them, as the wind came reliably from the west. Even so, the pace was almost as slow as it had been during the sandstorm.
Maybe it was her tenseness or her inability to see the stars, but Sage began to feel like they were never going to stop, that Alex would push the men straight through the night without a break. How was Nicholas to start the fire if the gear wasn’t in a pile? She wasn’t willing to light up a pack if someone was wearing it, though she had to admit it would be quite the diversion.
The man in front of her stopped, and she ran into him, then was immediately crushed from behind by the prince. There were grunts and muffled thuds as everyone realized a halt had been called. No one could see anything.
“Twenty minutes to rest,” Lieutenant Gramwell called.
Finally.
The squires’ job now was to pass out a small ration of dried venison and fruit. Sage lit a lantern with shaking fingers and passed the flame stick to Nicholas. “Give me fifteen minutes,” she whispered.
He grabbed her elbow. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I have to. Are you still with me?”
“Of course. Tell Darit I said good luck.” He turned away and disappeared into the darkness.
Sage dug around in her ration bag until she found the wrapped packet she wanted. As she walked along the line passing out handfuls, she held the open cloth between her eyes and the lantern, keeping her face shadowed. When she got to Alex, she nearly fainted when he grabbed her leg. “Is Lieutenant Gramwell back the way you came?”
“Yes, sir,” she gasped through the scarf over her mouth.
Alex hopped up from where he was sitting. “Make sure the prisoners get a bite and some water.”
He was gone before she could answer. Sage stumbled away in the opposite direction, trying not to run. She reached the group at the head of the line and raised the shutter on the lantern higher, hoping to ruin their night vision. Then she continued forward, cranking the light down again. The Norsari paid her no attention as she felt around the stack of gear she knew the Casmuni weapons must be in, searching for the distinctive curved blades. Luck was with her, and she found them on the windward side of the pile, opposite of where men were stepping away from the small gathered circles to relieve themselves. She eased the wrapped bundle from under a bedroll and set it on the edge so it would look naturally placed if anyone found it. Then she set the lantern nearby and lowered the shutter almost completely.
Darit and Malamin were on the other side, and she made her way to them, keeping one eye on the dark shapes of the Norsari barely distinguishable only a few yards away. The Casmuni pair sat unmoving, and she nearly tripped over them.
“Saizsch?” Darit whispered.
“Yes,” she answered. “The time is here.” Sage dropped to her knees and pulled a dagger from her belt with one hand and groped around for the ropes that bound him with the other. A sudden gust of wind made several Norsari groan in frustration, the sounds providing extra cover.