Eileen Kernaghan by Journey to Aprilioth (epub)

Author:Journey to Aprilioth (epub)
Format: epub
Published: 2023-12-09T00:00:00+00:00

3

“Ah,” said the General’s soft southern voice, “I remember this fellow. Westlander!”

Nhiall looked round, still holding his muck-rake. Warned that Zushtili was coming, the soldiers had dragged Nhiall out of bed at dawn and set him to cleaning stables. The General was known to have a sharp eye for dirt. On the last such inspection he had cut their pay, to the last man, because they had not made the slaves clean well enough.

“Sir?”

“You are well-treated?”

“Well enough,” said Nhiall, disconcerted. It was a long time since anyone had thought to ask such a question.

“And you,” said Zushtili to the duty captain. “You are satisfied, are you, with this man’s work?”

The officer shrugged. “I have heard no complaints, General.”

“And yet,” said Zushtili in a dangerously soft voice, “I see that you are using him as a stableboy.”

“Sir,” said the captain. “I have had no other orders. He is a slave, after all.”

“A slave,” said Zushtili, “for whom I paid a damnably high price in silver plate. A slave schooled in the arts of horsemanship. A chariot-handler.” He waved his hand at the half-cleaned stable. “This, one of the valley louts should be doing. There was another slave, a moon-faced one, a townsman. Has he too been set to stable-cleaning?”

“So far as I know, General.”

Zushtili sighed with the weary patience of a man who must deal with fools.

“Very well. I will see him, after. Now as for this one—the prince Telipani needs a manservant, someone who can teach him to use a chariot.”

“But surely, General—what can such a fellow know of palaces? Perhaps one of your officers…”

“I can’t spare my officers. What he needs to know he can soon learn. Tomorrow,” said Zushtili, “I will send one of the palace-servants down to fetch him. See that he washes.”

Nhiall turned back to his work. It was pleasant to think that he was doing it for the last time.

Presently he heard footsteps, and looking round, saw Marak in the doorway. Marak said, “Have you talked to the General?”

“Just now.”

“And?”

“Good news, I think. They’re sending me up the Hill, to be the prince’s manservant…” He broke off, seeing the look of dismay on Marak’s face. “What’s wrong?”

Marak said, in a flat voice, “They’re sending me west, to the frontier.”

Nhiall drew back his arm and pitched the muck-rake into the corner, watched it strike the foundation stones and clatter to the floor. “Marak, was this done deliberately?”

“By the General, you mean? Don’t be a fool—what difference would it make to Zushtili? They need horsemen in the west, that’s all.” He had his back turned to Nhiall, was staring out the high narrow window of their chamber. “I was glad enough, when he told me.”

Nhiall said, “I thought he was sending us both to the palace.”

Marak turned around and gave him a sour grin. “I thought he was sending us both to the frontier. Look,” he said, “if I can change places with you, I will. In the west you’d be nearer to the seacoast, and your sorcerers’ isle.

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