“Then I’ll see you in LastRock a few days from now,” said Scorio.
“I hope that you do.” Moira linked her hands behind her back. “Stay alive, Scorio. I’d appreciate the chance to celebrate this victory with you then.”
Her tone remained brisk, her expression neutral, but suddenly Scorio became aware of the Pyre Lady in a way that he hadn’t been even a moment ago. The air between them became charged, and he coughed into his fist as he bowed his head. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Good.” She inclined her head, smiled once more, then left.
“Damn,” said Alain. The rangy youth was leaning against a stack of crates, arms crossed, shaking his head. “You’re such an inspiration to me, Scorio. How do you do it? You think I should try scowling more? Maybe I need huge burning claws. Something.”
Scorio grimaced. “Tell me you weren’t listening in again.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault you both chose to chat right here where I was already hanging out.”
Scorio stared at the Flame Vault. “You expect me to believe that?”
Alain made a face. “Why does everyone always assume the worst?”
Scorio continued staring.
“Oh!” Alain raised a finger. “I’m innocent of any wrongdoing, because Moira knew I was here. She’s been able to sense me ever since she touched me. So that whole… exchange?” Alain waved a hand. “Not private.”
Scorio pinched the bridge of his nose. “Great. I feel completely relieved.”
“Good!” Alain pushed off the crates. “I’ve been meaning to catch up with you. Did you know that everyone at the top of the command chain is terrified?”
“Terrified?”
“Absolutely! They’re not letting it on, but the things I’ve heard, I tell you, sobering. I’d not tag along with your company when you leave if I wasn’t absolutely convinced we’re well on our way to becoming—well. Good friends? Pretty good friends.” Alain grinned. “It’s been tricky, because listening in on Charnel Dukes and Duchesses is much more dangerous than just hanging around Bravurn’s rooms, but I’ve picked up on a few things. Want me to tell you?”
Scorio sighed. “Do you think you should?”
Alain stared at him. “How so?”
“If… never mind. What have you heard?”
Alain grinned. “First off, Plassus is convinced that this is all going to turn into a bloodbath. He’s been doing all these final ritual things with a ceremonial sword. Really private, I think it’s a family or lineage thing from his past. He’s absolutely ready to die, but the others have been working on keeping him from ruining camp morale. It’s almost a full-time job for Vermina, who seems to be the only person who can keep him in line. She looks exhausted, by the way, and I heard her saying she doesn’t have enough people for the attacks her side is supposed to take care of.”
Scorio stared.
“Even Aezryna and Charoth are always fighting. I keep my distance from them, that Charoth, man, he gives me the chills, but you can hear them shouting. Well, Charoth shouts, Aezryna does this quiet, forceful voice that’s almost worse.”
Scorio couldn’t help himself. He was fascinated. “What are they arguing about?”
Alain considered his fingernails. “How to make sure the Imperators are here before the Blood Ox shows up. Which they basically don’t know how to pull off, seeing as the Blood Ox is basically an Imperator-equivalent fiend, right? So they keep going back and forth about how best to stagger the attacks. If the Imperators are already in the area, the Blood Ox won’t show, which means we’ll hold LastRock until the Imperators leave only for the Blood Ox to take it back. But if they come too late, well.” Alain raised an eyebrow. “That won’t be good for the rest of us.”
“They don’t have a concrete plan?” Scorio clasped his hands behind his head and squeezed his forearms around his temples. “They’re just going to hope?”
Alain shrugged. “It’s why they keep shouting when they don’t think anyone is around. I’m telling you, I’ve got zero confidence in this whole strategy after listening to them. Plassus is treating this like an honor suicide, Vermina is falling apart, Charoth blusters, Aezryna insists that this is an educated gamble… oh! That’s why I was going to ask if you don’t want to go back to the Fury Spires. Bravurn was just here last night. Teleported in. Poor Jarex, the man looks half-mad from exhaustion. He promised the Gold-mana like Moira said, but also privately met with a handful of Great Souls to tell them to come back and work for him.”
“He what?” Scorio dropped his arms and stared again. “He’s poaching our people?”
“Oh, very discretely,” said Alain, raising both palms to fend off Scorio’s outrage. “He told these people to volunteer to be part of the Gold-mana delivery teams. I think he has no confidence in this working, either.”
“Huh.” Scorio tongued the inside of his cheek as he stared off into the middle distance. “We’re all supposed to head out tomorrow. You’re saying none of our leaders have confidence in pulling this off?”
Alain hesitated. “I mean… it doesn’t look good from where I’ve been standing. Which is usually in the shadows a dozen yards away behind another tent, or the like. I don’t always hear everything clearly, but it sounds like a big gamble, yeah.”
Scorio sighed. “Moira knows this?”
“Of course she does,” said Alain. “I’ve been keeping her informed. She gives me this massage while I report, and man, I could just keep talking forever while she works on my shoulders. It’s so ironic, that someone with such great massage skills can’t touch anyone.” Alain raised a finger. “Another argument in favor of letting her touch you, might I add.”
“Thanks.” Scorio stared at Alain blankly for a moment, trying to reconcile his thoughts. “I think I’m going to go talk to Taron.”
“Good call,” said Alain, falling in beside him. “Let’s see what he knows.”
“Alone,” said Scorio. “Look, Alain, I appreciate your telling me all this, but Taron trusts me, and I don’t want to betray that by having you listen in.”
“You could just invite me into the meeting.”
“And have him report to Plassus and Aezryna that you’re spying on them?”
“Oh.” Alain stopped walking. “No, that wouldn’t be good.”
Scorio looked back. “You need to be careful. If you get caught…”
“Aww!” Alain brightened up. “You care! That’s proof!” Then he hesitated. “Right?”
“The gods give me patience,” sighed Scorio, shaking his head and walking away.
“Alright!” Alain remained behind. “I’ll be careful. See you soon, Scorio! Oh, one more thing!” He jogged back up. “Could you check if Fyrona is seeing anyone right now? I’m trying to be good and stay away, but the urge to just listen in is overwhelming, but something tells me that would be the wrong way to start our relationship, and even if she didn’t find out and fell in love with me, she’d inevitably ask one day if I’d ever snooped on her, like when she was undressing in her tent, and then -”
“Alain!” Scorio stepped in close. “Stop. Just stop. Take a breath.”
Alain did so, eyes widening, then grinned. “See? I’m really biddable.”
“I’ll ask Fyrona for you.” It took all of Scorio’s will to keep his tone level. “But she’s going to war in a day or so. She might have other things on her mind.”
“Oh, you got that completely backwards. You’ve no idea how many people are just randomly sneaking into each other’s tents, it’s almost impossible to not be a pervert walking around hearing half the -”
“Alain.” Now Scorio did close his eyes, and something in his expression cut the other man off. “I’ll ask her. Alright?”
“Great! Tell her I’m a really wonderful guy. Can you make me sound good? Don’t tell her I’m a creepy stalker-spy, alright? Try to make it so that she’s at least marginally interested in meeting me.”