Page 5 of The Sorcerer's Alpha
“He’s got better things to do than let it flap around in the breeze, unlike you,” Chandran said, to much hooted glee from everyone nearby. Bunny decided he was finished drinking and allowed Marut to make his escape.
He didn’t venture from his team’s campsite after that. He pitched the tent he shared with Jyoti, ate the meal Chandran cooked, and listened to Agasti tell a tale until they all retired at last. The wizard stayed on the other side of camp and Marut only caught glimpses of him through the scattered tents and campfires.
That was for the best. Marut kept his distance in the morning, too, even when they were preparing to ride out and he saw the wizard standing beside Rhododendron with one hand on the saddle, head lowered, no doubt trying to brace himself for an uncomfortable scramble onto horseback. Marut still remembered how sore he had been on his own first patrol, even after months of riding in the hills around Banuri. He turned away to check Bunny’s tack one final time. The wizard wasn’t his concern.
Another two days of easy riding through settled country took them to Suketi, where the main road veered north toward Bhilamala on the coast. There, Keerti turned off onto a smaller road that continued west to Naina at the edge of the badlands, where the road ended. Marut wasn’t surprised. They had taken this same route in reverse on their way to Banuri and would likely end up exactly where they had started, at the Chedoy army’s main camp near the end of the road from Bhilamala.
The road to Naina was better tended than it had been in years past, serving as it did now as the main transit between the capital and the Kasauli. Even so, the path was rutted and rocky and seemed to climb continuously uphill. Marut had to stop more than once to pick a stone from Bunny’s hoof. A day out from Suketi, a steady rain began to fall, and soon the road turned to churned mud underfoot and slowed the going even further.
“Miserable,” Ganak said, turning in his saddle to deliver this proclamation.
Marut wiped away the water streaming into his eyes despite the hood of his cloak. “Could be snow.”
“Snow would be better than this,” Ganak said.
They camped that night in mud. Winter was a bad time to wage war, but Skopa’s troops had shown no signs of being willing to pack it in until spring, and Chedi, therefore, had no respite.
The wizard bore the journey well enough that Marut could see. He didn’t complain, and he didn’t fall behind, although Marut saw him moving stiffly every time they stopped. He kept to himself, with his own tent and his own fire at the edge of camp. For the best.
Naina was a far-flung outpost, little more than a hamlet, tucked in the cleft of a narrow valley, damp and green. The inhabitants hunted in the hills and did a bit of gardening. They were not, Marut thought, entirely pleased to see soldiers pass through, but their elder came out to greet the patrol as it rode up with a smile on his face that seemed genuine enough. Keerti went to drink tea with the man and came back a while later with the news that they were welcome to camp nearby overnight. They would camp regardless, but it was wiser to do so with the village’s welcome.
Keerti came to Marut’s team’s fire that evening, as they were eating Chandran’s efforts and drying their clothes now that the rain had stopped, and said, “Marut, a word.”
Across the fire, Ganak and Nilay exchanged a glance. Marut ignored them and rose to his feet. He followed Keerti to the edge of camp, into the darkness past the campfires, where water dripped slowly from the cedars.
“We’re not headed for Beas,” Keerti said without preamble. “They’re sending us to White Valley. There’s a camp there.”
Marut considered this news. Named for the chalk deposits eroding out of the bare hillsides and notable only for a fresh spring that bubbled at the head of the valley, White Valley was a two-day ride south of the base camp at the mines. There was nothing of strategic importance nearby that he knew of, and the Skopoy would have no reason to strike in that direction. Nothing lay south of there but the Koramandi.
Keerti continued, “The elder told me two men rode this way yesterday at dawn, fast and without stopping.”
“Messengers,” Marut said.
Keerti nodded and drew a hand down his face, over his beard. “But what message? I’ve heard nothing.”
“We didn’t pass them,” Marut said. “They’re keeping off the roads.”
“Indeed.” Keerti looked toward camp, his attention caught on something. “Look through the sorcerer’s baggage tomorrow before we leave. Discard anything useless, and make sure that between the two of you, you have everything you need to live off the land for a while.”
“What do you fear?” Marut asked.
“I can hardly say. It could be nothing.” Keerti turned back to him, his face lit on one side by the fires, and shadowed on the other side by the black night. “We were sent to fetch the sorcerer because we’re the best scout patrol in Chedi, and yours is the best team in the patrol. If there’s trouble, don’t wait for orders from me. Take him and go.”
“Understood,” Marut said.
“He can’t be captured,” Keerti said. “Do you take my meaning?”
Marut touched the knife at his belt. The rounded bone hilt was smooth beneath his fingers. He had killed men before, at a distance with an arrow, or in the heat of close combat. Never someone he knew. Never looking them in the eyes.
“Marut,” Keerti said.
“Yes,” Marut said. “I take your meaning.”
CHAPTER3
The wizard hadn’t packed poorly, but riding out on patrol was a different beast from surviving in the wilderness for a week or more. With no pack horses to carry extra goods, they would have to rely only on what their own horses could carry. Marut took his saddlebags to the wizard’s tent and spread both of their gear on blankets to take stock. Behind him, the usual camp noises filled the air as everyone ate a hasty breakfast and prepared to depart. Marut wondered what Keerti would say to explain Marut’s actions. Likely nothing. Everyone knew how Keerti was.
The wizard had brought more clothing than Marut thought necessary, and his bedding was quilted cotton instead of wool. Marut removed the blankets and replaced them with wool blankets from one of the pack horses, and discarded the multiple spare trousers and tunics. He removed the wizard’s horse grooming supplies, fire pouch, compass, and cooking gear; the man stood no chance of surviving on his own if he was separated from Marut, so there was no need to carry duplicates. After a moment’s thought, he removed the man’s spoon, bowl, and plate as well. In a pinch, they could share.