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Page 50
Page 50
They had not gone far before Briar noticed that Evvy was swaying in the saddle. Rana allowed him to switch to one of the surviving horses so he could take Evvy up in the saddle in front of him: Briar’s pony would not have appreciated the extra weight. Evvy was exhausted. Lately the work didn’t wring her out as it had today, but she had not shaped the paths of so many rocks in such different ways before this.
Briar asked Rana if they could stop long enough to make hot tea or soup, but the man refused. Briar understood — if there was one company of the enemy in these hills there might be more — but he was desperately worried for his two companions. Parahan finally caught Rosethorn when she began to slide from her mule and pulled her up to ride with him as well. At least the captain sent riders ahead to his camp to prepare hot liquids and food in advance of their arrival.
In camp Parahan and Briar wrapped Rosethorn and Evvy in blankets and propped them in front of the captain’s fire, where Captain Rana and Sergeant Kanbab joined them. Briar was startled when Kanbab removed his helmet to free a tumbling waist-length braid of black hair. She grinned at his obvious surprise.
“Sergeant Kanbab is my right hand,” the captain said. “I would be in bad shape without her. A good number of Gyongxin women serve in the army before they marry. Some of them stay even afterward, like the sergeant and General Sayrugo.”
Kanbab bowed to Rosethorn. “The men wish to know if they may eat the honored dedicate’s chickens.”
“My cats!” Evvy cried wearily, trying to struggle out of the blankets. “They’re really cats. You can’t eat them!”
“I’ll take the spell off,” Briar told her. “Finish that tea and have another cup.” He rose, trying not to groan. He had put out a lot of magic, too, without being able to draw more from his best shakkan, which was now on its way to Hanjian. Every muscle in his body ached.
The crates had been placed beside the small round tents that were to serve Rosethorn, Evvy, Briar, and Parahan. Approaching them, Briar shook his head at the soldiers who stood nearby. “Sorry, lads,” he said in tiyon, hoping they understood. “They aren’t as tasty as you’d think.” Kneeling among the cackling crates, he murmured the words he’d been taught by the mimander.
Suddenly crates, chickens, and chicken noises were gone. From the look on Asa’s and Ball’s faces, Briar knew they were going to make their humans pay for the extra-long nap they’d had from the dose of sleeping herbs.
Monster stuck his head through an opening in the side of his carrier and squeaked. For a large cat, he had a very tiny voice. Briar grinned. “You don’t hold a grudge, do you, old man?”
Evvy staggered over, her eyes swollen with exhaustion. “I can’t do gate stones to keep them from straying,” she whined. “I’m too tired!”
“I’ll do herbs,” Briar said. “Don’t worry. That tent’s for you and Rosethorn. Go to bed.”
Evvy managed to crawl into the small tent. When he looked in shortly afterward, Briar discovered she had collapsed onto her open bedroll without crawling into it. He tugged her blanket off and covered her, silently thanking whoever had set up the tents.
Once he’d made the herb circle around the women’s tent so the cats could roam inside it, he released them from their baskets and fed them dried meat soaked in water. Then he went in search of a meal for himself.
The soldiers invited him to share theirs: a cup of butter tea and a bowl of dough mixed with cheese and tea, apparently the normal ration meal. Briar had eaten worse, and more unusual, dishes. He devoured his and thanked his hosts.
They chuckled. “Usually foreigners just spit it out,” the cook explained in tiyon. Briar wasn’t about to tell them he hadn’t spat out far weirder things served by the emperor. They had agreed to keep silent about their time in Dohan, for one. For another, he didn’t want these people thinking he was a snob.
“You won’t catch me wasting decent food,” he said truthfully. He bowed and returned to the captain’s fire.
Rosethorn was gone. “She went to bed,” Parahan told him. He was sharpening his swords. “Captain Rana here says the emperor’s troops attacked in strength up the Ice Lion Pass, the Green Pass, and out along the northern plain a week ago. General Sayrugo only had word of it two days ago. She wasn’t convinced until today that Yanjing might have sent forces up the Snow Serpent Pass. Most people have left it alone for attacks in the past. It’s too narrow for getting real numbers of troops into Gyongxe.”
“We didn’t see any soldiers before today, so they were ahead of us for certain. If they try to send more soldiers, they’ll have a fun time,” Briar said. “We choked the border crossing with thorns. They won’t get through those without a really good mage. We made the plants to resist axes, fire, and a lot of magic, Rosethorn and me.”
“The emperor hasn’t sent an army this way,” the captain replied. “Still, he can bleed us a bit, and tie up our troops here in the south with only the smallest portion of one of his armies if he chooses. He can afford to waste soldiers here; we can’t.” He got to his feet. “We ride before dawn and we’ll be riding hard all day. Get some sleep.”
By the time their journey into Gyongxe was done, Briar never wanted to hear the words “ride hard” again. His bum and thighs, used to the slow pace of caravan riding, were as blistered and chafed as if he had just sat on a horse for the first time. Rosethorn and Evvy were no better off, and Parahan, after years afoot in Weishu’s palaces, was even worse. Night after night the four applied salves to their sores and did their best not to complain. It was too important to reach the people who had been their friends for those long winter months.