It was like being a boy again, and diving into the lake from the highest
cliff-the one all the other boys feared to jump from. It was dread and
joy and the sense of no longer being able to take his decision hack. It
was what Balasar lived for. He knew already that he would not sleep.
Eustin was waiting for him in the entrance hall.
"There's someone wants a word with you, sir."
Balasar paused.
his men." "° The Khaiate captain. He wanted to speak about fallback
plans for
Eustin nodded to a side room. There was distrust in his expression, and
Balasar waited a long moment for him to speak. Eustin added nothing.
Balasar went to the wide, dark oaken door, knocked once, and went in. It
was a preparation room for servants-muddy boots cast beside benches and
waiting to be scraped clean, cloaks of all weights and colors hung from
pegs. It smelled of wet dog, though there was no animal present. The
captain sat on a stool tilted hack against the wall, cleaning his nails
with a knife.
"Captain Ajutani," Balasar said.
The stool came down, and the captain rose, sheathing his blade and
bowing in the same motion.
"I appreciate the time, General," he said. "I know you've a great deal
on your mind just now."
"I'm always available," Balasar said. "Though the surroundings are...
"Yes. Your man Eustin seemed to think it more appropriate for me to wait
here. I'm not sure he likes me." The captain was more amused than
offended, so Balasar also smiled and shrugged.
"Your men are in place?" he asked.
"Yes, Yes. Broken into groups of three or four, each assigned to one of
your sergeants. Except for myself, of course."
"Of course."
"Only I wanted to ask something of you, General. A favor of sorts."
Balasar crossed is arms and nodded for the man to continue.
"If it fails-if our friend Riaan doesn't do his magic trick well
enough-don't kill them. My boys. Don't have them killed."
"Why would I do that?" Balasar asked.
"Because it's the right thing," Sinja said. The amusement was gone from
the man's eyes. He was in earnest now. "I'm not an idiot, General. If it
happens that the binding fails, you'll be standing here in Aren with an
army the size of a modest city. People have already noticed it, and the
curiosity of the Khaiem is the last thing you'd want. They'd still have
their andat, and all you'd have is explanations to give. You'll turn
North and make all those stories about conquering the whole of the
Westlands to the border with Eddensea true just to make all this-" The
captain gestured to the door at Balasar's back. "-seem plausible. All I
ask is, let us go with you. If it happens that you have to keep to this
coast and not the cities of the Khaiem, I'll re-form the group and lead
them wherever you like."
"I wouldn't kill them," Balasar said.
"It would be dangerous, letting them go back home. Stories about how
they were set to be interpreters and guides? Not one of them knows the
Westlands except the part we walked through to get here. If the Khaiem
are wondering whether you had some other plan to start with ..."
Sinja raised his hands, palms up as if he were offering Balasar the
truth resting there. Balasar stepped close, putting his own hands below
the captain's and curling the other man's fingers closed.
"I won't kill them," Balasar said. "They're my men now, and I don't kill
my own. You can tell them that if you'd like. And that aside, Riaan
isn't going to fail us."
Sinja looked down, his head shifting as if he were weighing something.
"I can be sure," Balasar said, answering the unasked question.
"I've never seen one of these before," Sinja said. "Have you? I mean, I
assume there's some ceremony, and he'll do something. If there was an
andat beside him at the end, you'd have proof, but this thing you're
doing ... there's nothing to show, is there? So how will you know?"
"It would be embarrassing to walk into Nantani and have the andat
waiting to greet us," Balasar agreed. "But don't let it concern you.
Riaan isn't going to mumble into the air and send us all off to die.
I'll be certain of that."
"You have a runner in Nantani? Someone who can bring word when the
andat's vanished?"
"Don't concern yourself, Sinja," Balasar said. "Just be ready to move
when I say and in the direction I choose."
"Yes, General."
Balasar turned and strode to the door. He could see Eustin standing
close, his hand on his sword. It was a reassuring sight.
"Captain Ajutani," Balasar said over his shoulder. "What were you
speaking to Riaan about before we came?"
"Himself mostly," the captain said. "Is there another subject he's
interested in?"
"He was concerned when I spoke with him. Concerned with things that
never seemed to occur to him before. You wouldn't have anything to do
with that, would you?"
"No, General," Sinja said. "Wouldn't be any profit in it."
Balasar nodded and resumed the path to his rooms. Eustin fell in beside him.
"I don't like that man," Eustin said under his breath. "I don't trust him."
"I do," Balasar said. "I trust him to be and to have always been my
staunchest supporter just as soon as he's sure we're going to win. He's
a mercenary, but he isn't a spy. And his men will be useful."
"Still."
"It will be fine."
Balasar didn't give his uncertainties and fears free rein until he was
safely alone in the borrowed library, and then his mind rioted. Perhaps
Sinja was right-the poet could fail, the Khaiem could divine his
purpose, the destruction he'd dedicated himself to preventing might be
brought about by his miscalculation. Everything might still fail. A
thousand threats and errors clamored.
He took out his maps again for the thousandth time. Each road was marked
on the thin sheepskin. Each bridge and ford. Each city. Fourteen cities
in a single season. They would take Nantani and then scatter. The other
forces would come in from the sea. It was nearing summer, and he told
himself again and again as if hoping to convince himself that after the
sun rose tomorrow, it would be a question only of speed.
In the first battle he'd fought, Balasar had been a crossbowman. He and