Heirs of the Blade_ Shadows of the Apt_ Book Seven - Adiran Tchaikovsky [227]
Mordrec spat. ‘You know what it’s like in the Wasp Principalities? You think they’re any easier on brigands there?’
‘I reckon they’re not already hunting us as brigands over there, nor as prince-killers either. So I think, right now, we’re better off risking our freedom with the slave-takers than our lives with the Salmae.’ As Mordrec was about to speak again, he added, ‘You sprang me from a Slave Corps cell in Myna, Mord, so it’s not something I’d suggest lightly. Still, by my reckoning we’ve just about outstayed our welcome here. Split off from us tomorrow, anyone that wants, but I’m for the border, and see how bold Salme Elass gets then.’
He met Tynisa’s gaze, and she asked him, ‘You’ve fought all this while against the Commonweal aristocracy? Don’t you think the Empire will be worse?’
‘Oh you’re right,’ Dal replied lazily. ‘We might be enslaved and forced to work their farms and do their will. They might conscript us for their armies. They might execute us for turning our back on their laws. How different is that from the old Commonweal, eh?’ He nodded to Tynisa. ‘You go spotting for their scouts, girl. Put your eyes to good use.’
They kept Che constantly bound, travelling awkwardly on horseback before one of the Salmae’s retainers, or dumped at night alongside the stores and provisions. She managed to pick up little detail, but their search was plainly not progressing well. The initial hopes the pursuers had of overhauling the fugitive band had been dashed and their second-guessing had been found wanting. After that the trackers, Gaved amongst them, had been sent out on winged errands to try and find some other sign of their quarry. A day later they were back, and it was plain that Salme Elass had been leading her avenging force in entirely the wrong direction. The cavalry set off as soon as the news was in, and Che bundled along with them. The miserable conscripted levy were left to follow on foot at their own best pace.
She wondered idly if this was how the Commonwealers had conducted the war, and whether that explained everything. From that reflection, her mind turned to Thalric and her other companions. They were close, she knew: she could feel Thalric’s arrowhead of a mind out there, seeking ways to cut at the knot of her captors and set her free. She dared not let her mind wander too far, or exercise her little-understood powers too much. The Empress was still out there, and who could know how far her feelers might stretch from her nest in the heart of Capitas? Surely she had not forgotten Che, her unwished-for peer and sister. And if the Beetle girl’s consciousness should brush against her, then who knew what new magical attack Seda might unleash? Che had no wish to be banished into the back of her own head once more.
This night, as the advance force camped, the scouts seemed to have more positive information. They had already made up a lot of the lost ground, Che came to understand from the snippets of talk she overheard. Another day, or even less, and they would catch up with the brigands, and Tynisa. And then Salme Elass would have her revenge.
There were perhaps forty or fifty in the cavalry party, and they were the cream of the Commonweal, nobles and their retainers armoured in glittering shell and steel, skilled with bow and sword and lance. Che had glumly concluded that it didn’t matter how much help Tisamon’s ghost could lend to his daughter, Tynisa would not be able to triumph over her enemies this time, not even with a motley collection of brigands at her back. And she would not run for long, Che knew, for Tisamon would not have run. Perhaps Tynisa did not even think of her actions so far as escaping, rather than just escorting and guarding the villains she had freed. The moment she thought that she was running from something, then she would turn and fight. It was what Tisamon himself