In Thy Name

Chapter 10 - The best-laid schemes

The mesa which contained Castle Caran poked above the horizon at the same time as the sun, the latter somewhat to the south of the former. Teshem was too tired to even sigh; he simply kept going.

Mongke and Otokui peeled off to circle Castle Caran to the north, where they would wait for Teshem's squad to pass by.

The last of the morning's cool was already melting away, and the sky was beginning to lose its color, when Teshem reached the entrance to the Siha Gorge. A guard on the clifftop ran off across the mesa; another guard, on the ground by the entrance, nodded to him, and Teshem nodded back. The close walls of the gorge seemed to squeeze his chest, and he steeled himself at each blind turn.

He had passed the Fifth Gate and was entering the bowl of the Small Courtyard, when he saw the figure on horseback. Teshem's heart filled with dread at the sight of the red ribbons crossing the chest, the gilded brim of the helm and the unmistakable stamp of the Consul's red-gold charger.

"Consul of Caran, may the sun light your way," Teshem said, stopping his horse a respectful two armlengths away and raising one fist in salute.

"Decadarchos, where have you been?" the Consul said. "The sun is well risen already."

"I have no excuse, Consul," Teshem said, bowing his head. No use in pointing out the length of the journey he had just undertaken.

"I have no idea why my brother places so much faith in you," the Consul continued, a venomous snake darting about blindly. "Were I in his place, I would long since have sent you after your father. The squad has been waiting at the ready for three candlelengths. As it is, we've lost valuable traveling time and will have to make a forced pace to reach a suitable place for noontime rest. I took the liberty of having a servant pack your things, so you're to switch horses and then we will depart immediately."

Teshem wished he himself could shrivel up as small as his heart felt after that diatribe, broadcast to half the castle he was sure. "Yes, Consul," he said, hating how his voice squeaked.

The Consul wheeled his horse about, and Teshem urged his mount to follow, through the Inner Gate.

The squad was lined up in the band of sunlight along the western wall of the courtyard, out of the way of all the busyness on the shady side. Shazrahetur, saddled and ready, was held by a groom at the head of the double line of mounted numeri. The squad was exchanging glances and low words, and a few hands slipped small nothings into other hands. They had made bets on how late he was going to be. Teshem bit his tongue to keep from laughing, although he wasn't amused at all.

The other side of the courtyard rang with the training exercises of two squads of numeri, the noise almost drowned by the babble of the one squad that was milling about, off watch. Douloi hurried about their business, heads down, staying as far as possible from the soldiers, and the aroma of baking flatbread from the outdoor ovens made Teshem's mouth water. The front of the audience hall was stately and quiet; above its colonnade, a few oligi in coats of red mulworm-cloth watched from their terraces, enjoying the last of the morning cool.

As Teshem dismounted, he noticed a brown heap, a few armlengths from the steps of the audience hall. The grin drained from his face, and all feeling seeped downward through his body, rooting him to the rock.

Beneath crusted blood and a lock of matted hair, he recognized the delicate cheekbones, small nose and long lashes of the servant girl who had brought his noon meal the day before. It took him a moment to realize that she was naked to the waist; her torso was so raw and mangled that it didn't even look like a body. Her brown skirt lay in an uneven heap, looking as though it concealed a pile of bricks.