81
The tent was decent. It must have belonged to a middle-grade Shadowlander officer. We were not unhonored guests. And the tent came with a man assigned to make us comfortable and bring us our supper. Blade’s troops were foraging successfully, it seemed. I ate better than I had for a long time.
“What I want more than anything in the world,” I told our man, whose name I never learned, “is a bath.” Sahra hit him with a smile guaranteed to melt armor plate. She was enthusiastic about that idea. “I’m so filthy my fleas have lice,” I said.
Must have been a real ration of guilt going around at high levels. An hour later several soldiers showed up humping a looted stone horse trough. With them came guys lugging buckets of hot water. I told Sahra, “We must of died and come back as princes.”
Our tent was big enough to contain the trough and water with room left over.
Swan turned up. “What do you think of that, eh?”
“If I didn’t have friends over there fighting and dying I’d ask for a life sentence.”
“Take it easy, Murgen. It’ll all work out.”
“I know that, Swan. I know that. But some of us aren’t going to be happy how it does.”
“Yeah, well. Good night.”
It was. Beginning with the bath Sahra made it clear her definition of our relationship was exactly what others feared or suspected. She astounded me with her ability to communicate without spoken words, amazed me that in the midst of such unrelenting hell a flower of such beauty could bloom and defy the night.
I slept longer and better than I had for months. Maybe some part of me just resigned and let go.
Water in the face wakened me.
“What?” I cracked an eyelid. And popped upright. Sahra sat up as I did. “To Tan? What’re you doing, kiddo?” The little guy was leaning over the edge of the horse trough, spanking the water. He looked at me and grinned, said something in Nyueng Bao baby talk that sounded like “Dada.”
“What’s going on?”
Sahra shrugged. To Tan said “Dada” again and headed out of the tent.
Things were happening outside. I grabbed my clothes, climbed in, stuck my head outside. “Holy shit! Where the freak did you guys come from?” Thai Dei and Uncle Doj were seated outside. Their swords lay across their laps. Sheathed, thankfully. Gangs of Taglians were coming by to check them out. I guessed they had not been there long nor had they asked permission to enter camp and assume their posts.
Swan and Mather appeared.
Uncle Doj told me, “Only one group made it out again last night. The black men attacked. Many men were injured. Numerous rafts were damaged. But their soldiers did not want to fight and many asked to join Bonharj.”
“Who the hell are these guys?” Swan demanded. “How did they get here?”
“The rest of the family. I expect they sneaked. They’re good at that. Obviously, your perimeter ain’t what it should be.”
Blade shouted something from the distance. “Crap,” Swan grumbled. “Now what?” He jogged away.
Mather considered Thai Dei and Uncle Doj briefly, shrugged, followed Swan. Uncle Doj said something to Sahra. She nodded. I guess he wanted to know if she was all right.
To Tan climbed around on his father.
Doj told me, “You did well, and more than you were obliged, Standardbearer. Our people are safely away and these men know nothing about them.”
“Yeah? Good. What about mine?”
“They would not come out. The wizards want to pursue their vendetta with Mogaba. They might come tonight.”