Gardens of the Moon - Page 9/254

Lorn realized she needed a distraction, and sought it in conversation.

“Lieutenant, have you received your commission yet?”

“No, Adjunct. I expect to be stationed in the capital.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Indeed. And how will you manage that?” Paran squinted ahead, a tight smile on his lips. “It will be arranged.”

“I see.” Lorn fell silent. “The nobles have refrained from seeking military commissions, kept their heads low for a long time, haven't they?”

“Since the first days of the Empire. The Emperor held no love for us. Whereas Empress Laseen's concerns seem to lie elsewhere.”

Lorn eyed the young man. “I see you like taking risks, Lieutenant,” she said. “Unless your presumption extends to goading the Adjunct to the Empress. Are you that confident of your blood's invincibility?”

“Since when is speaking the truth presumptuous?”

“You are young, aren't you?”

This seemed to sting Paran. A flush rose in his smooth-shaven cheeks.

“Adjunct, for the past seven hours I have been knee-deep in torn flesh and spilled blood. I've been fighting crows and gulls for bodies-do you know what these birds are doing here? Precisely? They're tearing off strips of meat and fighting over them; they're getting fat on eyeballs and tongues, livers and hearts. In their frantic greed they fling the meat around:” He paused, visibly regaining control over himself as he straightened in his saddle. “I'm not young any more, Adjunct. As for presumption, I honestly couldn't care less. Truth can't be danced around, not out here, not now, not ever again.”

They reached the far slope. Off to the left a narrow track led down towards the sea. Paran gestured to it, then angled his horse forward.

Lorn followed, her thoughtful expression holding on the lieutenant's broad back, before she turned her attention to the route they took. The path was narrow, skirting the promontory's bluff. Off to the left the trail's edge dropped away to rocks sixty feet below. The tide was out, the waves breaking on a reef a few hundred yards offshore. Pools filled the black bedrock's cracks and basins, dully reflecting an overcast sky.

They came to a bend, and beyond and below stretched a crescent shaped beach. Above it, at the promontory's foot, lay a broad, grassy shelf on which squatted a dozen huts.

The Adjunct swung her gaze seaward. The barques rested on their low flanks beside their mooring poles. The air above the beach and the tidal flat was empty-not a bird in sight.

She halted her mount. A moment later Paran glanced back at her then did the same. He watched her as she removed her helmet and shook out her long, auburn hair. It was wet and stringy with sweat. The lieutenant rode back to her side, a questioning took in his eyes.

“Lieutenant Paran, your words were well spoken.” She breathed in the salty air, then met his gaze. “You won't be stationed in Unta, I'm afraid. You will be taking your orders from me as a commissioned officer on my staff.”

His eyes slowly narrowed. “What happened to those soldiers, Adjunct?”

She didn't answer immediately, leaning back on her saddle and scanning the distant sea. “Someone's been here,” she said. “A sorcerer of great power. Something's happened, and we're being diverted from discovering it.”

Paran's mouth dropped open. “Killing four hundred people was a diversion?”

“If that man and his daughter had been out fishing, they'd have come in with the tide.”

“But-”

“You won't find their bodies, Lieutenant.”

Paran was puzzled. “Now what?”

She glanced at him, then swung her horse around. “We go back.”

“That's it?” He stared after her as she directed her mount back up the trail, then rode to catch up. “Wait a minute, Adjunct,” he said, as he came alongside.

She gave him a warning look.

Paran shook his head. “No. If I'm now on your staff, I have to know more about what's going on.”

She placed her helmet back on and cinched tight the strap under her chin. Her long hair dangled in tattered ropes down over her Imperial cape. “Very well. As you know, Lieutenant, I'm no mage-”

“No,” Paran cut in, with a cold grin, “you just hunt them down and kill them.”

“Don't interrupt me again. As I was saying, I am anathema to sorcery. That means, Lieutenant, that, even though I'm not a practitioner, I have a relationship with magic. Of sorts. We know each other, if you will. I know the patterns of sorcery, and I know the patterns of the minds that use it. We were meant to conclude that the slaughter was thorough, and random. It was neither. There's a path here, and we have to find it.”