92
BANNETH WATCHED HER with his characteristic silence. Lani had taken Sage’s side immediately and now stood with an arm around her waist. Nicholas, however, wouldn’t stop pleading for her to wait.
“Sage, you don’t know why he had the captain’s sword. Maybe he found it.”
Sage focused on the direction they expected the man to arrive from. “He had Alex’s belt, Nicholas. His belt and dagger. He stripped them from Alex’s body after he killed him or while he was dying.”
“You don’t know that!”
“I know what I saw.”
“Sage, this isn’t you. Listen to me.” He grabbed her arm, and Sage shook him off.
Commotion from nearby kept Nicholas from arguing further. Several guards appeared, half dragging a chained man with his head down. The only things clearly visible were his dirty prison breeches and the stubble of black hair on his head.
Banneth frowned and moved to meet them. “What happened to him?”
The Casmuni leading the way carried a wide executioner’s harish at his waist. He stopped before Banneth and bowed. “He attempted to escape, Palandret. We had to subdue him.”
Four of the guards were visibly bruised and bleeding. The rest were disheveled and had obviously been in a fight. Banneth raised his eyebrows as they pushed the man forward and he slumped to his knees in the dirt. “Impressive. How close did he come to escaping?”
“Closer than I would like to admit, Palandret.”
Sage couldn’t get a good look through the guards around him. They maintained an alert and ready posture though the man swayed like he would pass out any minute. Her hands tightened on the hilt of Alex’s sword to steady their shaking. “Will we do it here?”
He must have understood her because the prisoner’s body jerked and twisted at her words. The guards around him immediately moved to restrain him again, but he continued to thrash, grunts and muffled yells escaping from his gag. It took six men to pin him to the ground, and still he struggled. She wondered how he could breathe. “Let’s finish this,” she said.
Banneth shook his head. “I will give you what you ask, Saizsch, but he has the right to know the reason for his death. He must also have a chance to speak his last words.”
Lani rolled her eyes and made a noise of disgust. “I doubt this man gave Ah’lecks the same courtesy.”
The king looked back at her sharply. “Then that is a difference between us and them I am happy to have.”
Lani opened her mouth to argue, but Sage shook her head. “My king is right.”
Alex would’ve approved. When it came to mercy, however, she doubted Alex would have shown any if he was now facing the man who had killed her.
A guard went to fetch a bucket of water. Sage stared at a spot on the ground. Did she want to look him in the eyes? It felt cowardly not to face the man whose death she was demanding, but she didn’t want the image of this man to pollute Alex’s memory. She’d never be able to think of one without the other.
“I hope he begs for mercy,” Lani murmured, her arm tightening around Sage.
Sage glanced at the man through the bodies holding him down. Soon his blood would stain the sand, and his body would rot in the criminals’ graveyard outside the city. Wild dogs would dig up his bones and devour what the desert did not. He deserved it.
Yet somehow the thought did not bring her peace.
The water arrived, and the guards rolled the man over. He didn’t resist; Sage wondered if he was still conscious. Darit squatted next to the prisoner and poured a dipper over his blood-and-dirt-covered face.
“Wait,” said Banneth, coming forward. “Why is this man so damaged?” The king pointed to the prisoner’s torso, which was visible where his shirt had come up. The exposed skin was almost completely covered in bruises.
“He had attempted escape twice before, Palandret.”
The men moved so Banneth could see better. “I have a hard time believing all this was necessary,” the king said, shaking his head.
“What does it matter, brother? The man is about to die,” snapped Lani.
“It matters a great deal if this happened in my prison.” Banneth crouched and lifted the shirt higher to trace a raw mark across the man’s rib cage. He stood, looking angry. “I must find out who has done this.”
Darit used a wet scrap of cloth to wipe the man’s face. “We will have to ask him and investigate.”
“More delay.” Lani stomped her foot. “Can’t you see how this hurts Saizsch?”
Darit sat back suddenly. “Palandret, I know this man.” He looked up at Sage. “He was with you in the desert when I was taken. He is Demoran.”
Nicholas knelt beside Darit to look. “Bleeding hell, Sage.”
“Is Darit right?” Sage took a step toward them, trying to understand how that was possible. “Is he a Norsari? Do you know him?”
“I can’t— I can’t—” The prince was shaking his head, unable to find words even in Demoran. “It’s not possible— It’s not—” He leapt to his feet and met her as she came closer. “Sage, oh my Spirit!” He grabbed her shirt and shook her.
“Who is it, Nick?” Sage twisted around him to see.
“It’s Captain Quinn.”
93
SHE COULDN’T STOP staring at him, even hours later.
Alex’s head rested on a cushion at one end of the bath while the rest of him floated just below the surface. Rather than rub his bruises and lacerations with salves, the Casmuni healers had put the curatives in the water to soak into his wounds and skin. Sage cleaned dirt and blood from Alex’s face as gently as she could and treated what wasn’t underwater. Even heavily dosed with pain medicines, he’d flinched away when anyone but Sage touched him.
Banneth watched from the opposite side of the bath. “I am more sorry than I can express, Saizsch,” he said.
“I know,” she whispered.
“He did not tell us he was Demoran. Why would he not do that?”
Sage had been mulling over that for the last three hours. “I think he was worried Darit would recognize him, and you would be angry for what he’d done.” She looked across the water at the king. “Though it’s difficult to imagine him being treated worse.”
“Again, I am sorry.” The king sighed. “But you are right. And my anger and mistrust would have fallen on you as well, once I knew what he was to you.”
“Perhaps he was afraid of that, too.” It was easy to imagine Alex enduring imprisonment to protect her from his association, especially if he’d been able to see that she was safe.
Around midnight, the healers moved Alex to Sage’s bed, where they bandaged what they could. Once again, Sage was the only one who seemed to be able to touch him without causing pain. Fortunately, none of the cuts or abrasions were very deep, and other than the ones from his last-minute escape attempt, his injuries were a few days old and healing on their own. His shaved hair made the wounds easier to clean, as well. The bruising would be more difficult to recover from—almost his entire torso was mottled with blue and purple, including clusters of three round marks in a row. She’d have to force Alex to move around when he woke.
Darit knocked and entered. “It is done,” he said. “Gispan Brazco is dead.”
That was the name Alex had been listed under in the prison, and Banneth had decided everyone should believe he’d been killed in an escape attempt. Those who knew better—Lani, Nicholas, Darit, the healers, and the guards present at the time—had been sworn to secrecy until Alex’s torture could be investigated. Lani had grumbled that she couldn’t tell Minister Sinda, but the king insisted the perpetrator would be easier to find if he didn’t know he was being hunted.
Banneth nodded his thanks to Darit. “We will start first thing in the morning.”