Rune Knight: Book Two of The Empress Saga

CHAPTER FOUR

"The truth be, my lord," Trent rumbled gravely, "we no be having any idea you came this way. Uwe and Grellin put you heading east with five of the general's horn-cloaks a day's ride behind you."

    One of the outriders in question, Uwe, happened to be walking by Ban and Trent's campfire. She knuckled her forehead as she passed and handed Ban a skewer of venison.

    Ban, now clothed in borrowed items, nodded his thanks as he accepted the food. "Uwe and Grellin were right. After reaching Arnust Canyon, I doubled back west. I wanted to catch up to Rod and warn my father."

    Trent scowled and glared at his skewer. "Aye," he growled. "We thought to do the same."

    Trent's fire was in the center of his company's camp, the position of the unit commander. It seemed that these soldiers, all wearing the colors and crests of a dozen different houses, had placed the knight-lieutenant in charge. A wise choice. Trent had always been a fine officer. Only, Ban wished he could have been surprised that there weren't any knights of higher rank among them.

    "And the horn-cloaks?" Trent grunted.

    "Buried one at Arnust. The rest took a little longer."

    Trent grinned as he chewed on his own skewer of meat. "Sounds a tale, my lord. I be wondering if it tells how you be appearing in our path in your skivs."

    Ban absently rubbed his chest. "From there to here would take all night to tell. What of you?" He gestured to the soldiers making camp all around them. "Where did all this come from?"

    "You be thinking you be the only man who remembers what loyalty means?" Trent asked with a hearty laugh. "No, my lord. These be patriots all, and we no be following a floundering traitor who would see us march on our own kingdom."

    Ban nodded. "When the fighting starts, and Kastus isn't so foolish to think there won't be a fight, the only ones he'll be killing is our fellow Altieri."

    "He spoke daily as to that," Trent snarled. "Half the First Legion anymore be freshwater boys and inbred gnarls from forgotten houses. All of them true believers in anything that be passing out between Kastus' teeth."

    "What does he say?" Ban asked.

    "Filth and nonsense, my lord." Trent spat out a piece of gristle. "The general calls for your lord father to quit the Sea Throne, and names him coward for abandoning his 'sacred duty' to the Protectorate."

    Ban stared into the fire and frowned. It wasn't very long since he had said something very similar. Waves, he had believed it. Somewhere inside himself, Ban still believed it.

We did right by answering the call to arms, didn't we? No one else was doing anything. Forgive me, Father. I was a fool.

    Trent took a swig from a clay bottle and grimaced. Vodka, probably. "The general riles up the legion every evening with this garbage. Worse yet, the traitors among them be believing it."

    "But not you," Ban noted with a smirk. "Who're you marching with?"

    "Thirty be from the Arnltur's battalion but not the lord himself," Trent reported, his tone turning sour. "There be the archers and heavy infantry from House Urdov, as well as my arcanists. Lord Varnik Drenln and his cavalry, and we be having most of the Karst men that didn't leave with Lord Rodrik."

    Ban winced at mention of his brother. Trent was unaware of certain... developments. The lieutenant continued to list off numbers and units until coming to the end of it.

    "And several dozen be from here or there, coming of their own will and conscience. Patriots."

    Ban held up a hand to stall him. He could tell that Trent was gearing up for one of his famous rambles. House Urdov had more than a little frozen land blood in it, which was the source of his odd manner of speech and tendency towards loquaciousness. Trent had the look of an Altieri noble, but his tongue was Southron. "I'm still groggy from the herbs, comrade, and I never had a head for sums. What's your final tally?"