Discordant Harmonies 3: Measure of Resistance

Chapter Two

The wan winter sunlight did nothing to encourage much hope in Asthané. He'd awoken wondering how he could make this quest succeed, and he now peered into the cookpot as he stirred their breakfast. It was a fool's mission. He knew perfectly well the best they could hope for was to find Géta, possibly Iléena and her Custodian, and kill the three and themselves. Asthané wouldn't leave them outside to be chased down, captured, and tortured without his uncertain protection, so they'd all have to go in and suicide once they completed their goals.

He sat back and sipped the mint tea he'd boiled up, remembering mornings when he'd awoken to find Géta had boiled up a full pot and set a pot of coffee in the fire for Wodé as well. This morning, he'd had watch, and had let everyone sleep until the sun rose before rousing Wodé again to wake the others. The way Asthané had been feeling—edgy as though he hadn't slept well—he'd known if he tried to wake the rest he'd have offended somebody. He wasn't in much better mood, though he'd reluctantly poured himself a cup of coffee once it was ready. Already, he'd poured the remainder of the first pot of mint tea into canteens and had another on the fire for the same, even if Téus decided he wanted some instead of coffee.

The others came to the fire after rolling up the bedrolls and tents, Asthané having left his out upon Wodé's command. Now the Custodian tied the bundles made by the tents and bedrolls to one of the two pack horses they'd brought. Actually, the second horse was Géta's regular mount, and Asthané had designated the packs of food and cooking supplies for it along with his musician's packs. No reason why they shouldn't even the load between the two unmounted horses after all.

He filled their little wooden bowls with the traditional camp slop. Néja and Lévig wandered away to eat. Téus took his bowl, grabbed a spoon, and hunkered down right next to Asthané, apparently having forgiven, if not forgotten, the mistake he'd made yesterday in trying to start a conversation with the boy.

"What are your plans when we get there?"

The lyre-player's question startled him. Wodé arrived, and Asthané passed up a bowl and spoon before eating his serving out of the pot with the serving spoon. Eating from one of the two remaining bowls with one of the two remaining standard-sized spoons would only depress him. It had when he'd eaten last night. Though it didn't offer him much peace to leave the two bowls together with the spoons loose in the top one, at least he wasn't being plagued with thoughts of Géta's likely experiences in Inskiti hands.

"I thought I might give . . . Géta Mercy." It was hard to speak his musician's name because he couldn't help but see the all-too-likely outcome of this mission. The only hope Asthané had left right at this moment was that the quick note he'd scribbled out to Éethin would induce her to get a Proxy out here quickly, before worse could happen. He felt relatively certain she wouldn't take the loss of six people very well, and he knew if she didn't do anything on her own, Esqué would see something done no matter what the cost. Esqué would take the loss of Asthané with even less patience than the Grand Matriarch would take the loss of all six of them.

Téus eyed him, and he pretended not to see the doubtful gaze. "Do you even know how to give Mercy?" the boy asked sharply.

Asthané flinched. "Not yet."

"But the Gods might Bestow the Gift upon you in the next few days?" Scorn dripped from Téus's voice.

He nodded in response to the musician's words. "It's the only hope we have."

Téus huffed a breath. "So you're not even going to try and get in to save Géta."

"We'll die if we enter. If we're lucky, if we can before we're captured. And we'll likely be captured. Tortured. They will rejoice at having three more Custodians, and another Mage and musician. The Mage Géta and I have faced will be rewarded for whatever he does to learn our secrets."