Laurie Marks - Elemental Logic 01 by Fire Logic

Author:Fire Logic
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf

Chapter Sixteen

During the half day of furtive travel along back ways and across planted fields, and finally across a portion of the fens which entailed much wading hut at least was passable, Zanja had plenty of time to consider and reconsider her situation. Now, as sunset approached and she stopped on firm ground to strap her boots on before starting the last climb up the slope to the overlook, she marveled at how visible the campfires were. As she approached the camp her wonder only increased. No picket challenged her, and she walked into the heart of the encampment practically unnoticed.

There was much distracted hustle and bustle, with goose being roasted on spits, the mess of occupation being tidied up, and many excited people clustered in arm-waving conversations, for there never was a South Hiller who could talk without gesturing. At the smoky heart of the encampment, though, there was a stillness where Emil bowed and poured tea from his porcelain teapot. His three lieutenants flanked him, their faces pink with washing, dressed in their cleanest longshirts, their heavy boots tucked up close to their stocky farmer’s bodies. Annis sat among them, charmingly flushed by something being said to her by the erect, gray-haired woman who sat beside her upon Emil’s stool. This woman was boldly dressed, like the three other strangers who sat somewhat behind her, in Paladin’s black. Even from a distance Zanja could see the flash of three golden earrings in her left earlobe. The three earrings of Right, Rank, and Regard had once been worn only by a high commander, a general. Only one such person remained alive now, in all of Shaftal.

Zanja felt a great weariness, a heaviness so overwhelming she could not continue forward, and scarcely could continue to stand. Transfixed by this exhaustion, she did nothing when Councilor Mabin turned her attention to Zanja, as though, of all the gazes that were turned on her, it was Zanja’s that mattered. For a long, strange moment they looked into each other’s faces across the distance that separated them. Then she spoke to Emil, who hastily set down his teapot and walked over to Zanja.

“What’s the matter?” he asked her.

“The Sainnites are going to attack us tonight, here at Fen Overlook.”

It seemed a measure of their friendship, or perhaps of Emil himself, that he did not even make her explain further, thus making it possible for her to avoid directly lying to him.

He said, “Well, our watchers would have noticed if a company had left the city gates yet—it’s still light enough to see. So we have some hours at least in which to decide what to do.”

“I think so.”

“You look weary to death.” Emil gripped her by the shoulder and somehow she became able to walk with him up to the smoky fire.

The general had never taken her gaze from them. Now she rose to her feet. “Zanja na’Tarwein?” All the other conversations around the fire fell abruptly silent.

“Madam Councilor,” Zanja said, “you may not remember, but we have met before.

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