Stormcaster (Shattered Realms #3)(39)
“They’re Empress Celestine’s army,” Hal said. “They sail out of her capital at Celesgarde, wherever that is. That’s where they likely took the busker and Captain Gray.”
Hal and Talbot chose new mounts from among the long-legged desert horses in the temporary paddocks on the beach. They stole weapons and other gear from the dead horselords. Hal wasn’t in love with the curved blades the pirates carried, but now he knew from experience that they were good at removing heads with a single swipe, which seemed to be one of the few ways to put these demon soldiers down for good. Their bows were strange, also—lightweight, with limbs that curved back toward the archer. Hal was good with a crossbow, and fair with a longbow, but it would take practice to learn how to use one of these.
They rode west toward Fortress Rocks, continuing until their horses were exhausted. When they didn’t dare push them any further, they found lodging at an inn along the road. To say they found lodging was being generous. The inn was already packed with refugees heading inland. Hal and Talbot slept in the barn, in a stall with three other people. Talbot had a small amount of money, but all Hal had were a handful of unfamiliar coins he’d taken from Enebish.
To say they slept was being generous.
Hal rose at first light and saddled his horse. He’d named the stallion Bosley because he was balky, full of himself, and obsessed with getting at the mares. Hal filled the panniers with food for several days, his quiver with arrows, and lashed a blanket roll behind his saddle. He was swinging open the barn doors when Talbot appeared, her hair in a tangle, wiping sleep from her eyes.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she demanded, her hand on the hilt of her sword.
“This is where we say good-bye.” Hal led his mount out into the stable yard, with Talbot hard on his heels.
“What do you mean, good-bye?” Talbot planted herself in his path. “You’re coming with me to Fortress Rocks, and then on to Fellsmarch. The queen will want to question you along with me.”
“I have business in Arden,” Hal said. “I need to go home.”
“You are a prisoner of the queen,” Talbot said, “and it’s not my place to decide to set you free.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Hal said, but she didn’t crack a smile. He sighed. It was unfair for her to keep playing by the book when he’d already strayed so far from it. “After what we faced together in Chalk Cliffs, do you really want to shed blood between us?” He knew Talbot well enough by now not to suggest whose. He swung up into the saddle, and Talbot gripped the stallion’s cheek piece. Never a good idea where Bosley was concerned. He showed his teeth, jerking his head to one side so that she lost her hold. Hal reined in, forcing the stallion back a few steps.
Talbot drew her sword. “I like you, Matelon,” she said, “but I can’t just let you ride back home when you are a prisoner of war.”
“We’re all prisoners of war, aren’t we?” Hal said, but that gained him no ground. He leaned down toward her, using all the persuasion at his command, which, admittedly, wasn’t much. “Look, I know you don’t want to go back to your queen and report that you lost your commanding officer, your post, and your prisoner. If I had my way, I would go after that ship even if I had to row all the way to Celesgarde.”
By now, Talbot was nodding her agreement.
“But,” he said, which stopped her nodding. “I’m tactician enough to know that the only thing I’d likely achieve by doing that is an early grave. We need more information. We need more firepower. And the only connections I have are in Arden. Holding me hostage and hoping my father responds for the first time in his life is a waste of time. I can do your queen and your queendom a lot more good by going home and making a case in person than by cooling my heels in a dungeon in Fellsmarch.”
“How, exactly, could you do us good?” Talbot asked, scowling. “And why would you, once you’re home?”
Hal had lots of possible answers.
Because I’ve fallen for your Captain Gray. Because, when it comes to choosing between her and the despicable Montaignes, it’s no choice at all. Because I’ve never seen a people so devoted to their line of queens. Because, after swimming for so long in the political swill of Ardenscourt, I’ve gotten used to breathing clean air here in the north.
Because I’m a fool for lost causes.
“Captain Gray and I had an argument about the war,” Hal said. “I told her flat-out you were going to lose. I told her we had better weapons, a bigger army, deeper pockets, and an entire empire to draw upon. It’s a total mismatch. Only a fool would bet on you.”
Talbot’s face was getting redder and redder. “And she said . . . ?”
He laughed. “She disagreed.”
“What’s your point, Matelon?”
“The point is, now I’m not so sure. Winning a war depends on more than armament and numbers. An army can’t fight on heart alone, but it can’t fight without it, either. That said, the empress Celestine and her army of bloodsworn scare the hell out of me. I’ve never seen soldiers like them. From what Enebish said, she has an endless supply. After Chalk Cliffs, I am sure of one thing: if the Realms cannot unite against the threat from the east, we will all lose.”
Talbot nodded grudgingly. “Maybe so, but if you think that after twenty-five years of war, Queen Raisa is going to bend the knee to the empire, you’re wrong.”