The Boon of Alon

CHAPTER FORTY SIX

We find the soon-to-be king of Pangessa well after sunset, in a camp in the fields between two small villages. The villages are shadows in darkness, marked by a few dots of lit windows; the camp, though, glows like a cloud of fireflies until we descend and find fires, torches, and magelights. The soldiers don't exactly welcome us, but they don't stop us from walking into camp towards the biggest, shiniest tent there, until we actually reach it. Now, two guards in fancy armor stand in our way—King's Knights, I think.

"Identify yourselves," one demands harshly. I guess I won't ask them if they know Suthi.

"We're riders," says Chama. "We have important news from the capitol."

She goes back and forth with them a bit while I rub feeling back into my fingers and look around. Whatever was in this field before, it's been trampled into oblivion—we're completely surrounded by sturdy tents and hard-packed roads between them. These people have been here a while. They're apparently also all still awake and busy even though it's dark and cold and my body is telling me it's time to sleep.

And most are ignoring us, but not all. I catch a few eyes on us that look away as soon as I catch them, and one pair that doesn't. I hold eye contact for a moment—the soldier can't be any older than I am, and they're standing down the path a ways with arms crossed—then look away myself. Clearly, we aren't welcome here.

"We're only here to talk," Chama's saying. "Look, you can at least ask him if he'll hear us. You won't be getting any messengers about it till morning at least."

The guards continue to block our entry—I guess they want Chama to just tell them what happened, but that doesn't do us much good. I swear I can feel that one soldier's eyes still on me even when I'm not looking.

"It's about the king. His father?" Chama relents, partially. "Don't you think he'll want to know about that?"

I don't know if it's because I know there's someone watching me, or what, but I see one guard kind of twitch, like he's seeing something behind me, and I turn to look. Which means I catch that young soldier right behind me, pulling out a knife. I lurch back and shout—everyone shouts—and the soldier lunges forward, knife aimed at my chest.

Shit—I draw my sword and barely block in time. Then I shove the soldier back, and before either of us can take another swing the nearest guard lunges to take them down and Chama yanks me away.

I don't know if she thinks she's helping or if she's trying to stop me from killing my attacker. Either way, it's over as fast as it began. Whatever the fuck it was.

"What the hell are you thinking!?" the guard shouts at the soldier as he pins them against the dirt.

"This isn't, uh, this isn't our official stance," the other guard tells us quickly.

"Then why is one of your number trying to kill us?" Chama demands. She lets go of me slowly and I sheathe my sword.

"I assure you, we'll find out," says the guard. I look back at the soldier—others have been drawn by the commotion, and my attacker has been parted from their knife and is now thoroughly restrained. They're still struggling, though, eyes fixed on me.

"Are you a rebel spy?" I ask them, loud enough to be heard over the mutters from the audience we've gathered. I can't think of why else someone would attack me out of the blue—we're riders. We're supposed to be neutral. And we're in the middle of a camp that very much belongs to the other side, but it's not unreasonable for there to be a rebel spy here. After all, I know of at least two Knights who were actually rebels, too.

The soldier doesn't answer my question, but they do spit at me before they're hauled away.

"A rebel?" the guard who subdued them asks me. I open my mouth to explain.