The Shadowbearer (An Aegis of the Gods Book)

Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

“General Dorn,” said the female voice he remembered.

Stefan eased his eyes open. The brightness of noon greeted him. He winced at the sudden exposure to light. Softness cushioned his back. The sweet scent of perfume or the soap she bathed with tickled his nostrils.

“Sorry.” Footsteps drifted away from him, and the brightness lessened.

When the steps drew close once more, a young female’s face accompanied them. Dark hair spilled about the shoulders of her green Alzari robes.

“How long have I been out?” Stefan sat up.

“A full day.”

“A day?” Stefan’s mind whirled. Enough time for Nerian’s people to reach the battleground at the Crescent Hills. They would have found several thousand dead Erastonians and the pyre left by the Ashishin. The Erastonian habit of cremating corpses in any battle they won came in handy. With the enemy occupying the area and guarding the pyre, Nerian’s spies could not have gotten close enough for a better inspection. Stefan pulled the sheet from over his body and stood before realizing he was still naked. The Alzari averted her eyes.

“Your new uniform is hanging in the corner. I’ll inform Zar Ballard that you’re awake. He’ll want to make sure you’re well enough to travel.”

“No need. I feel as strong as an oak.” His stomach growled. “And hungrier than a Harnan herder after a fast.” His appetite didn’t surprise him much. Mending took sustenance from the wounded as well as energy from the Matii doing the Forge. He strode over to where his uniform lay on a table.

“I’ll send for food.”

“Good and something to drink.” Stefan paused. “Something strong.”

“Yes, sir.”

Almost as an afterthought, he added, “Have someone bring my dartan. Tell them to treat him as they would a bull if he’s stubborn. Also, send word to the Travelshaft that I’ll be on my way.”

“Yes, sir.”

Stefan listened for the swish of the tent’s flaps lifting and her footsteps outside before he expelled a breath. The first part had gone well. He inspected the results of the mending. Where once he had gashes, his skin was now smooth and supple, unblemished, and a healthy tanned ginger color. Even the simulated slice and thrust of a sword through his side was unmarred. Prior scars on his chest and arms remained.

For a moment, his vision blurred as the exhaustion from the mending took its toll. The back of a nearby chair became his support. He yearned to lie down, but he’d lost enough time. After fumbling with his britches, he managed to get them on without tripping over himself. The buttons on the matching green shirt and embroidered coat proved a much harder challenge, but eventually he was buttoning up the coat. The day’s heat didn’t suit wearing the jacket, but the coming visit with King Nerian required formality. Anything to help dissuade suspicion. Stefan was sitting in the tent’s lone chair tugging on his boots when the Alzari returned.

“General, I’m Zar Ballard,” a man announced.

Stefan turned to the male voice he recognized from the night before. Today, the tone was smooth, confident. The man behind the voice was a reflection of that sound: chest up, back straight, hair slick with oil. His robes were pristine. The young, female Alzari stood behind him. Something about the man’s demeanor annoyed Stefan.

“You need more rest. Delaying another day will not hurt,” Ballard said, the words sounding more like a command than a suggestion.

Stefan stood slowly, drawing himself to his full height. “I’m sorry. Need? Did I miss when they appointed an Alzari above me? Delay? Are you sure that’s what you want to tell the King concerning the news of our latest defeat and the Erastonian advance? The message was delayed?”