THEY TOOK A narrow path in the direction of the smoke, Lieutenant Hatfield bringing up the rear. Ten solid days of travel would’ve tested anyone who didn’t already live in the saddle, and the backs and insides of Sage’s thighs were not only sore, the skin was raw where her weight had rested and chafed. Even with the extra padding she’d swallowed her pride enough to add, Sage fought to keep her grunts and winces to a minimum. Shadow picked her way over the rocky hillside, but without the noise of over two hundred other travelers to cover for her, Sage knew all four men were well aware of her discomfort.
Alex finally halted the horses and called an army greeting. Sage relaxed her legs a little, relieved to not have to clamp them just to stay upright, even if it was only for a few minutes. The response came quickly, and too soon they continued down the hill. Sage tried to direct Shadow where she wanted the mare to go, but it was difficult with her aching body and the mouthwatering scent wafting toward them. She hoped they had enough to share; the Norsari hadn’t had fresh meat since leaving Tennegol.
They came upon a group of ten men seated and standing around a fire. Bedrolls were spread about, though a few had been rolled up, indicating they’d spent the night here—which was also obvious from the doneness of the boar roasting on the spit—and they intended to move on before sunset.
Sage swung her leg painfully over Shadow’s back to dismount. Her foot hit the ground before she was expecting it to, and her knee buckled as her inner thighs screamed. She only stayed semi-upright because her left foot was still in the stirrup.
Hands at her waist lifted her up, taking the pressure off her trembling muscles. “Are you all right?” Alex murmured in her ear.
He wanted to be gallant now, after over a week of ignoring her? “I’m fine,” Sage snapped. She eased her other leg to the ground, eyes watering, but he didn’t let go.
“Give yourself a minute,” Alex whispered. He moved a little closer, his body warm against her back. Without thinking, Sage was leaning into him. Alex turned his face into her cropped hair, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.
“Captain?” Ash Carter called.
The hands and heat vanished. “Right here, Sergeant,” Alex said. “On my way.”
With the sudden loss of support, she had to grab Shadow’s mane to keep from collapsing. The horse looked back in concern, and Sage patted her in reassurance. When her legs felt steady enough to walk, Sage pulled the reins around and looped them on a tree limb. By the time she joined the others around the fire, introductions had already been made. The men, who must have been a Ranger squad, merely glanced at her. Sage felt too weary to explain her presence and was thankful her name was often used for boys.
High-rimmed camp plates were loaded with roasted pork and passed around. Sage accepted one gratefully and eased herself down onto a fallen tree that served as a seat for several men. Without waiting for utensils, she shoved a piece of steaming meat in her mouth. She was licking grease off her fingers and considering how to ask for more when she noticed Alex and Ash had taken the squad’s leader off to the side, where they compared maps.
“We’re glad to have more troops here,” said the Ranger on her right. “Given what happened last year.”
Sage glanced at the man before looking back to Alex. “This Tasmet business has everyone on edge, seeing as it all started from within this time.”
He nodded. “And now the Casmuni. Can’t help wondering if it’s all connected.”
The soldier now had her full attention. “You’ve seen Casmuni around here?”
“Well…” He tilted his head. “Not exactly. The only Casmuni I’ve actually seen were across the river.”
“Really?” said Sage. She sat up, thoughts of a second helping forgotten. “Where exactly?”
“They come to the Kaz River for water, though both sides of it belong to Demora around here.” He shrugged. “They never appear to be looking for a fight, so we don’t begrudge them a drink. Sometimes we wave and they wave back.”
Sage had gained a sense of the importance of water and water rights for the Casmuni, which made sense for a desert people. Several documents referred to “sharing water” like it was a gesture of trust or friendship. The Rangers probably didn’t realize just how diplomatic their allowance was.
“How often do you see them?” Sage asked.
“Just in the spring and early summer. Last year and the one before.”
It was what these men were seeing that had the king so secretive.
“What do they look like?”
“They dress for the desert, covering everything, even their heads and sometimes their faces, to protect from the wind and sun. Brown as Kimisar, they are, like your captain and sergeant.” The man jerked a thumb at Alex.
His tone implied a question about Alex’s and Ash’s heredity. Both had their coloring from their Aristelan mothers—as did Prince Robert—but her companion’s mind had plainly gone elsewhere, to soldiers with different origins. “Tasmet had been part of Demora for decades,” she said. “Its people aren’t Kimisar anymore.”
“So you say,” the man replied. “But out here you learn to be cautious.”
“Cautious?” Sage frowned. Even growing up with a fear of Kimisar raiders—remote as that threat had been in Crescera—she’d never judged a person’s intentions based on the color of their skin, but the man’s attitude implied such prejudice was common in the army. Having only seen Alex among those who knew him, it hadn’t occurred to Sage how often he must face hostility in strangers, let alone other soldiers. Casseck never said what weakness Alex had as a boy that was so mercilessly preyed upon, but now she knew.
Those children were probably only imitating the mindset they’d observed in adults but with an extra layer of cruelty. She was sure if she asked Alex about it he’d say it didn’t matter. But it did matter. Her fingers gripped the metal plate harder as she thought of the page who fought for everyone else when no one fought for him. “It sounds more like judgment to me.”
“It’s not judgment,” the soldier insisted. “It’s experience.”
That he’d spent probably half his life skirmishing with Kimisar in Tasmet had shaped this dangerous attitude, but that didn’t excuse it. Sage gritted her teeth. “I wonder how their experience with bias like yours affects their judgment.”
“Well, I—”
“And when someone gets killed because of those judgments, what will you say? That you mistrusted a man appointed over you—an officer of the king—because he didn’t look like you?”
His cheeks flushed as he stared at his plate. “It’s difficult, you know, when you’re out here year after year, fighting. You get in the habit of seeing things a certain way.”
And that was the problem. Sage didn’t think the man was necessarily a bad person—after all, he didn’t harbor the same automatic suspicions of the Casmuni. He was just reacting to what he’d always known. “Much of Tasmet was easily convinced to join the D’Amiran family’s plot against the crown,” she said softly. “The people there didn’t feel loyalty to Demora, even after all this time. I guess they were in the habit of seeing things a certain way, too.”
“I don’t suppose the fighting now will help much, either,” her companion said.
“Probably not.” Things were likely set back another generation at least. When she returned to Tennegol, Sage would write her old employer, Darnessa Rodelle, to discuss the ways she and the other regional matchmakers intended to foster healing after the war. Surely they had a plan already. Maybe she could help somehow.
“We’re leaving,” said Alex, interrupting her thoughts. He stood over them, frowning, before moving away. Sage wondered how much he’d heard.
“I’ll take that for you,” the man said politely, lifting the empty plate from her hand. Sage was still hungry but felt their conversation was worth far more than a full stomach.
“Thank you,” she said. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Corporal Dale Wilder,” he said, offering his free hand.
She shook it. “I’m Sage Fowler.”
“Now, Sage,” called Alex.
“Coming.” Sage hopped up, then took extra time to brush off her clothes so she could recover from the pain of the movement. “I hope to see you again,” she told her new friend.
The corporal smiled. “Oh, I guarantee it. We’ll be reporting to your captain fairly regular.”