Free Springwar by Tom Deitz Page A

laughed again, but something about his expression told Zrill he was treading on dangerous ground. There were limits, he supposed, even to one of the few outside Barrax’s circle to know that the royal court officially functioning in Ixti was a sham, and that Barrax had ordered his most trusted guard and staff, and all his southern levies, to meet him here, in this secret place in the Pit, while he took stock of the lord of his northern levies, Lord Lynnz. And waited.
    “Is there more you would tell?” Barrax asked, filling another goblet for Zrill.
    Zrill took it gratefully. “Aye, lord king, there is.”
    And with that he told all he had seen and witnessed about Prince Kraxxi and the woman whose name neither the prince nor the woman herself would reveal.
    When he was finished, Barrax rose. “You have stayed as long as you dare,” he said. “Would that I could reward you with rest as well as gold, but alas, that may not be—though you may certainly take that goblet as token of this meeting. For the rest … I go to ponder what this news might be that my son thinks will buy his life.”

CHAPTER IV:

W ITCHING
( WESTERN E RON -D EEP W INTER : D AY XL- MIDMORNING )

    R rath awakened to cold feet, the scent of salt-dried fish stewing to palatability, and Eddyn sitting in the wide-open doorway studying the map. In spite of his bedroll, a layer of furs, and a pile of ratty blankets they’d found at this latest fish camp, he shivered. And would have feigned sleep longer, had Eddyn’s sharp gaze not caught him with his eyes open.
    “You have to get up sometime,” Eddyn said mildly—disarmingly. Almost like a friend. “I let you sleep because you needed to. You’ve been pushing hard, for someone your size.”
    “I’m fine,” Rrath snapped, finding no energy for politeness this early, even if both things were true. Eddyn
was
bigger—and stronger—yet they’d covered the same distance; it stood to reason he’d had to work harder to achieve the same results. At least they hadn’t lacked for food the last few days, all of which they’d concluded at fish camps, which were generally well provisioned—if one didn’t mind fish soup, fish stew, and fish chowder.
    At least Eddyn was a competent cook.
    Rrath wished, however, that he’d witnessed the preparation.
    Sighing, he dragged himself out of the covers, found his next layer of clothing—leather leggings, knee boots, andsnug undertunic—and began tugging them on. Eddyn put down the map and ambled over to the fireplace to scoop up a cupful of stew and pour it into a bowl for him.
    “You having one, too?” Rrath inquired, as he found his top tunic and flipped up the hood, the better to shield his ears from the infernal wind that was also blowing smoke into his face.
    Eddyn grinned, white teeth gleaming like the snow beyond the door. “Still don’t trust me? If it’ll make you happy, I’ll have that and you can have another.”
    Rrath shrugged, but Eddyn helped himself to the first bowl and let Rrath fill a second. That was the trouble with all this: not trusting Eddyn. Of course Eddyn didn’t trust him, either—with cause. But it really was unfortunate to be at heart a good person, as Rrath certainly considered himself, and yet be driven to do things that violated every ethic he’d ever learned in exchange for access to a dubious, unseen power that seemed increasingly unlikely to be forthcoming.
    That
wouldn’t
be forthcoming if word of how his first assignment had been botched reached the relevant authorities. As it surely had by now.
    Of course, he knew certain things, too, but most of those he literally couldn’t talk about. And even if he could, it was as much as his life was worth to reveal them.
    All because he’d liked observing animals. Which had attracted the notice of a certain Life Priest named Nyllol, who’d put him in touch with
them
.
    Who liked observing
everything
.
    As much, apparently, as Eddyn liked observing the map, which he’d