"The captain wants you in his tent, Rabbit," Jeff said.
I nodded and went to Suiden's tent, entering at the captain's command. The first thing I saw after my eyes had become accustomed to the interior gloom was the silver tea service. I blinked. My ma had one like that, one of the few things that she brought with her from her former life. I sat down on the rug between Laurel Faena and Groskin, and was handed tea in a delicate porcelain cup on an equally delicate matching saucer. Groskin offered me a bowl of lemon slices and then, after I took one, a sugar bowl and tongs. When I was finished, Groskin placed the bowls on the matching tea tray. As I selected a silver teaspoon and stirred my tea, I watched Groskin pour a cup for Laurel, struggling with the lieutenant being mother. Glancing down, I touched the rug—it looked like a Perdan. It was strewn with fat needlepoint pillows, and the walls of the tent were hung with tapestries. I grinned, thinking that our captain knew how to travel.
"Something amusing, Lieutenant?" the captain asked.
I stopped grinning. "No, sir. Just enjoying the tea, sir.” Captain Suiden lounged back against a pillow, looking very much at ease. "All right, Sro Faena, why are you here?”
Laurel took a dainty sip. "I am on my way to see the king.”
The captain, Lieutenant Groskin and I all stopped whatever stirring, drinking or fidgeting we were doing and stared at the Faena. He stared back, bland and benign, and took another sip of tea.
"The king," Suiden repeated.
"Yes," Laurel replied.
"Our king," the captain said, looking for clarification.
"Yes.”
"Jusson IV, also called 'Golden Eye,' who, at this present time, resides in the Royal City of Iversly."
Captain Suiden wanted to be absolutely sure.
"Yes, that king."
"I see. Any particular reason why?”
Laurel looked at me. "Do you remember, Lord Rabbit, the fur trappers in your Weald some years ago?"
"Yes," I said. "Honor Ash Faena, uh, remedied that.”
"So she did. It was an isolated incident, no?" Laurel asked.
"Yes." I stifled a shrug. "As far as I remember, it was the first time something like that happened. And the last.”
"It's a true memory you have, Lord Rabbit," Laurel said. "But you've been gone how long?"
"Five years, Laurel Faena.”
"Not a great amount of time, yet what would you say if I told you that since you left we've had not only trappers, but fellers, slavers, hunters, and other runners raiding throughout the Border?"
I blinked. "Uh—”
"One hunter even managed to reach Dragoness Moraina's lair." Laurel took another dainty sip. "We buried what we could find of him in one of Cobbler Rosemary's shoe boxes."
We all paused to consider the image that arose.
"What's a feller?" Groskin asked, after a moment.
Laurel waved a paw at me.
"Fellers are tree runners," I said. "Border hardwood is considered premium in southern markets."
"Logging is illegal in the Border?" Groskin asked.
"Yes, sir. Cutting down a tree kills its sprite.”
Captain Suiden's and Groskin's eyes shifted around the tent, looking for things made of wood. They both settled on the tent poles.
"Don't worry, you have no spritewood," Laurel said. He touched his staff that lay behind him. "And this was given to me by an oak sprite whose tree is very much alive. Her sister, however, didn't fair so well.
Fellers got her.”
Captain Suiden set his empty cup down. "It seems that there's a serious problem in the Border.”
Laurel nodded. "A very serious problem." He looked at me. "You know the delicate balance there, Lord Rabbit?”
Delicate balance? It was a bull dancing on a thin rope strung between two high poles. With no net. "Yes,"
I said.
"Everyone with their own idea of how the universe runs and how that should play out on their patch of earth, no?"
"Yes," I said again.
"And how hard it is for anyone to agree on anything, let alone have a consensus?” I nodded. The memory of my da's frustration with both the Area Weald and High Councils rose up again.
"The High Council did reach an accord, Lord Rabbit," Laurel said. "Unanimous."
My mouth fell open.
"We will declare war if these raids do not stop."
My mouth closed with a snap.
"Honored Moraina was most eloquent about becoming part of some apothecary's potion or lordling's boots." Laurel finished his tea and set his own cup down. "And the moon season will start soon."
Suiden frowned. "Moon season?”
"It's the time from the first full moon of spring to Midsummer's Eve where the haunts of those betrayed and murdered appear, sir," I said, politely ignoring Groskin's start at the mention of ghosts.
"I would think that the dark of the year would be more the time for hauntings," Suiden said.
"The four seasons align with the four aspects, honored captain," Laurel said. "Fire and summer, air and fall, water and winter, and earth and spring. It is earth that governs the dead as it is the substance from which we are made and to which we return." His ears went back against his head. "And each year there are more and more of the slaughtered—" He broke off and took a deep rumbling breath. "However, your father spoke prudence before the High Council, Lord Rabbit. Honored Two Trees was equally eloquent about the, hmm, bloodiness of war, so the High Council has decided to see if the problem could not be resolved by diplomatic means. By reminding Iversterre of its treaty with us. I was chosen.”
"But why are you still here?" the captain asked. "Why were you waiting for us instead of going on to me Royal City?”
"The Council realized that even my lone presence in Iversterre could upset its denizens. They felt that an escort from the kingdom would ease things and so I was charged to have Lord Rabbit accompany me.”
Feeling the weight of Captain Suiden's stare, I swallowed and cast him a quick look—and blinked, as his eyes seemed to be glowing in the gloom of the tent.
"So why Rabbit?" the captain asked. "There's a large garrison at Veldecke, right on the Border. You could have gone there for an escort.”
"Where do you think the runners are coming from?" Laurel asked. "Do you think that the town's elders haven't noticed the trees, slaves, pelts and other contraband showing up in their marketplace? Being ferried down their roads? The garrison is most diligent, as you surely are, in their patrols. Do you think that they haven't seen what is being carried out of the Border?" His ruff bristled. "Perhaps I would've received an escort. Or perhaps I would've ended up stuffed and mounted in some lord's hall."
Not bloody likely, I thought.
"However, Lord Rabbit's family is known and respected throughout the Border," Laurel said, "and here he is kin to two powerful Houses of your kingdom.”
Captain Suiden turned his stare on Laurel. His eyes were glowing. He picked up the teapot and poured another cup, adding just lemon. "Why didn't you say something when you fast met us, then? Why this waiting and guessing game?”
"No game, honored captain. After your adventures, you were too upset to hear anything I had to say. If I remember correctly, you accused me of planning to eat you and your men, and Lieutenant Groskin had a novel idea of how to cover up both that you were lost and that his horse liked me.
While Groskin found the bottom of his cup very interesting, Suiden waved his hand at these mere details.
"But if we didn't return? What would you have done then?”
"I would've gone to my second plan," Laurel replied. "Which was my first until I found you wandering up here." He watched Suiden open his mouth and cut him off. 'To go into the town and speak with your commander.”
"I'm just a farmer's son from the Border, Laurel Faena," I said, setting aside the images of pandemonium and riot that his plans evoked, "no matter how my da stands before the Council. I can't see how my presence would help, but I can easily see how it could hinder. A lot.”
"Farmer's son, true," Laurel said. "But you are also the nephew of Lord Chause, thirty-two lines to the throne of the kingdom, no? The grandson of Lord Flavan, forty lines to the throne?"
"Well, yes, but my parents left all that.”
"Does that make you any less the nephew or the grandson?”
I'd once met a couple of lordlings who were stranded in Freston during a winter's storm. In their sneering arrogance, they'd reminded me of the underbelly of a toad— soft, white, and poisonous—and they cured any desire I had to claim nobility. I wasn't about to start now. I opened my mouth to say so but Captain Suiden spoke first.
"You have valid points, Sro Laurel, but Rabbit belongs to my troop and with my troop he will stay.
Further, I must take this request to my commander before a course of action can be decided."
"Why? Does he not trust your judgment?”
The captain stared at me, his eyes now blazing, but I shook my head. I hadn't told Laurel the commander's words.
"Don't look so surprised, honored captain. You're here without a multitude of soldiers.”
"Commander Ebner trusts me to fact-find and report back to him, not to have one of my men go haring off on your say-so," Captain Suiden said, each word deliberate. He set his teacup down.
"So while we dither about, blood is spilled and our rage grows until war is unavoidable." Laurel pointed at the feather pinned to my tunic. "There is an obligation.”
"I will not be coerced or manipulated." The captain's anger filled the tent and pressed down on us.
"Don't tell me that you had nothing to do with us being lost.”
Laurel growled, showing his eyeteeth, and lifted up on his haunches. "I did not. I am no swindler."
"Ballocks.”
"Sir," I said, trying hard to keep my voice from shaking. "If Laurel Faena said he didn't cause us to be lost, he didn't. He wouldn't lie, sir. Any more than you would commit treason." I turned to Laurel and saw that his pupils took up almost all of his irises. I swallowed hard. "And Laurel Faena, Captain Suiden is right. I'm obliged to you, but I also have an obligation to Commander Ebner. I would break faith and be declared a deserter if I were to leave without his permission." Stalemate. Oh, please God, I prayed, do not make me choose.
"If I may make a suggestion, sir," Lieutenant Groskin said. He waited for Captain Suiden's nod before he continued. "What if we were to send a trooper back to Commander Ebner with a report? The horses had an easy ride yesterday and a good rest last night. Whoever's sent should make base before sunset and we should have an answer tomorrow morning, latest.” There was a moment's quiet as Laurel sank down until he was sitting again. Suiden raised his eyebrows at him. "Is this acceptable?"
"It is acceptable."
"Do it," Captain Suiden said to Groskin.
Lieutenant Groskin got up, carefully edged around the cups and tea tray, and left the tent. The captain picked up his cold and probably very bitter tea and took a sip. At the same time Laurel began to preen, running his tongue over his paw. Both stopped with a grimace and Laurel lowered his paw while the captain put his cup down again. They did not look at each other as we sat in silence.
A few moments later, Lieutenant Groskin opened the tent flap and peered in. Captain Suiden made a sharp gesture for him to enter.
"I sent Ryson's tentmate," Groskin said as the flap closed behind him. "I figure that his nose deserved a reprieve." The captain stared at Groskin and the lieutenant's smile faded. He cleared his throat. "He understands, sir, that he is not to linger but as soon as he gets an answer from Commander Ebner to return here. I also took the liberty, sir, to have him ask for additional supplies if the commander approves us escorting the mag—uhm, Laurel Faena.” Lieutenant Groskin, problem solver and forward thinker. My brain tried to shut down again.
"Very good, Lieutenant," Captain Suiden said. "You and Lieutenant Rabbit are dismissed.”
We both were out of the tent so fast that the flaps swung back and forth for a few moments before settling into place. Groskin and I stared at each other and I wondered if I looked as wild-eyed as he did.
We both turned and looked at the tent entrance. Laurel was not exiting. We waited for a moment but Groskin probably decided, as I did, that Laurel Faena could take care of himself. We started walking away, our steps picking up speed.
"Did you see, sir?" I asked. "How the captain's eyes—”
Groskin's feet moved faster. "I've never seen him so angry," he said over me.
"But—”
Groskin reached his tent and dived in. I stood staring after him; then feeling incredibly exposed, I went to hide among the other troopers, figuring there was safety in numbers.
I played least in sight for the rest of the day. But when I fell asleep that night I dreamed of being made into taffy.
I was awakened the next morning by the sounds of hooves and men's shouts echoing up the mountain trail. Looking around, I could see that the sun was well risen and Jeff gone, so I jumped up and quickly dressed. Before I left the tent, though, I unpinned the feather from my tabard and stowed it in my saddlebag. I figured I had made my point and now it was time to lie low. Very low. I slunk over to the cookfire to see if there was anything left of breakfast.
"I set aside some eggs for you, Lieutenant," Basel said, beaming. "I'll whip them up right quick. Got some herbs too. From my garden—I picked them fresh just before we left.”
"It's not your garden, Basel," I said, exasperated. "It's the garrison's and what's grown there is for the officers only—" I broke off and Basel's beam cranked up a notch.
"Yes, Lieutenant, sir. I'll also have your water when you're ready to shave.” After shaving and eating, I slipped in with the rest of the troop as they watched the newcomers arrive, acting like I had been there all along. As soon as I saw who had returned with the messenger, though, I scowled.
"I say, Suiden, splendid view you have here," Captain Javes said. He had dismounted and was looking around through his quiz glass. He wore his parade dress uniform and a sword with fine filigree work on the hilt that would snap the first time he tried to use it. Captain Suiden and Lieutenant Groskin stood before him in their field uniforms, and there was no sign of Laurel.