"This morning when we left the lake, you said we might find Tuigan and obtain horses."
"Might. But even if we found horses tomorrow and ran them till they died, there's no horse that could catch the viliniketu."
"You're giving up?" Amira said. Rage and despair filled her.
"No!" said Gyaidun, anger rising in his voice. "We'll run or ride as long as there's a trail to follow. But unless you can grow wings to fly us there, they'll be wherever they're going long before us."
"What if-?" Amira stopped herself.
Gyaidun speared her with his gaze, and she looked away.
"What if what?" he asked.
Amira said nothing but cursed inwardly. She knew Gyaidun's only interest in helping Jalan was in hopes of finding his own son or, barring that, wreaking vengeance on those who took him. She dared not trust him with too much.
"What if what?" Gyaidun grabbed her wrist. "What aren't you telling me?"
Amira slapped his hand away. "Unhand me!"
Gyaidun lowered his hands but leaned in close until he towered over and looked straight down into her eyes. She straightened her back and returned his gaze. One spell, just one, and she could have this brute howling for mercy.
"You think this is a game?" said Gyaidun. His eyes narrowed, and he spoke scarcely above a whisper. "Your son is out there. My rathla, my sworn brother, almost died protecting him. I'm risking my life trying to get him back."
"Why?"
Gyaidun flinched, obviously shocked at the straightforward question, but said nothing.
"I watched you, you know."
"What?" Gyaidun's brow wrinkled in confusion.
Amira had to fight to keep the smile off her lips. She'd never liked the machinations and manipulations of courtly life, hated it in fact, but that didn't mean she didn't know how to play the game when it suited her. Hit your opponent where he least expected. That held true in both court and war-and ten times more so with men.
"When I woke in the belkagen's camp. You treated him with respect.
Almost awe at times. Until he told us what he knew of Winterkeep and the… Frost Folk, he named them. You tensed up like a drawn bow. I thought you were going to crack a tooth grinding your jaw. Then, when he mentioned other children being taken-"
"Enough!"
Gyaidun stood, and for a moment Amira feared she'd gone too far.
The same fury that had clouded his features when he'd attacked the belkagen was back. Amira's hand tightened around her staff, and she started going through the proper spell that could stop Gyaidun without seriously hurting him. But he stopped, and obviously with great effort composed himself.
Finally, his shoulders slumped and he spoke in barely more than a whisper. "My son was taken. Just like Jalan. My wife died, just like your knights. I never saw my son again." A bit of the cold hardness returned to his eyes. "That what you want?"
Amira slapped him, then stepped back, shocked at herself.
Gyaidun glared at her, but he didn't back down. "Hit me all you want," he said. "But if you're keeping secrets from me, you're only damning Jalan. Right now, I'm the only friend you have."
She held his gaze a moment longer, wrestling with her own doubt, then her shoulders sagged. She lowered her staff and sat down beside the fire.
"Sit down."
Gyaidun hesitated, then turned and went to their packs. For a moment she thought he was offended, but he returned with their blankets. He tossed one to her, then sat across the fire from her. He held his blanket in his lap.
Amira wrapped hers around her shoulders, then began her tale.
"I… I lied."
She watched him for a reaction. He blinked.
"I was not part of any official expedition from Cormyr. Search parties were sent. That much was true, but I was forbidden from going.
It was no simple assignment that I was at High Horn. Over the past few years I have been somewhat… insubordinate. They sent me to High Horn in hopes of reining me in. The attack there occurred just as I told you and the others, but when search parties were organized, I was forbidden from going. My superiors"-she made no attempt to keep the sneer from her voice-"believed I was too close to the situation, too emotionally attached to serve the crown with proper objectivity.
Besides, I am a Hiloar, and my House's relationship with the crown and the war wizards is… strained. They assured me they would do all they could for Jalan, but told me in no uncertain terms that I was to remain at High Horn."
Her voice was breaking. She was about to get up and go for her waterskin when Gyaidun handed his to her. She nodded her thanks and took a long drink.
"You're a renegade then," said Gyaidun. "You disobeyed and went anyway."
She held herself erect, proud, ready to defend herself, but much to her surprise she saw approval in Gyaidun's frank gaze.
"I'm here, aren't I?" she said.
He smiled. "Go on."
"I am not without resources, and I organized my own party. Swords for hire, a few good scouts I knew, and even two thieves I thought might prove useful. We ran into one of the 'official' expeditions in Nathoud. Had I run into Strirris or Jamilan's party, they might have arrested me on the spot, but it was Mursen. He and I have a… history together, you might say."
Amira watched Gyaidun for a reaction. There wasn't one.
"His knights wanted him to arrest the lot of us, but I talked him out of it. I agreed to submit myself to his authority and face formal charges when we returned to Cormyr, but until then it made more sense to join forces. The knights balked and complained, but Mursen agreed.
My family has contacts in Nathoud, and we obtained the finest horses in the area and set off into the Wastes."
Her breath caught. She took another long drink and stared into the fire.
"How many?" asked Gyaidun.
"What?"
"Your parties joined together. How many were you?"
"A score and three. We set an unflagging pace. Lesser mounts would have died, but these were the finest Nathoud horses. We caught them.
We caught the whoreson bastards who had Jalan. We saw them around midday and chased them until nearly sunset."
She needed a moment to compose herself. She tied the waterskin shut, tossed it back to Gyaidun, then put a bit more kindling on the fire. The flames burned low, down to little more than embers in ashes, and the fire would go out if no one tended it.
Gyaidun threw some of the dried dung on the fire and said, "What happened?"
"We fought. Those white-skinned barbarians fought like devils, but still we were beating them. Until the sun went down."
"The sun?"
"That… thing. The one in the dark robes. He fled before us and hung back. At first we thought him no more than a decrepit old man.
But when the sun went down, he… he…"
"What?"
"It was like… like watching a petal unfold. No, it was faster than that. Like throwing oil on a fire. Once darkness was upon us, he became terrible. Knights fell before him like wheat under a scythe.
Mursen tried to stop him, and that… that monster blocked the spell and snapped Mursen's neck."
Amira closed her eyes, hoping to push back the tears, but it only brought the image back, stark and clear-seeing the slate-gray sky and under it Mursen's head forced all the way around, hearing the final snap. She opened her eyes and wiped the tears away on her sleeve.
"Mursen was your… I don't know your word. Lover?"
Amira tried to smile, but she could feel it twisting into something else. "Not in a long time, but… he…"
"I am sorry for your loss. He died well."
"Died well?" The tears were flowing freely now, but she didn't care. "That monster snapped his neck like a twig. Died well or died poorly. Died brave or died a coward. Does it matter?"