Traitor's Moon

him so pensive. Joining him at the water’s edge, Alec waited.
    When they’d finally become lovers, it had done much more than deepen their friendship. The Aurënfaie word for the bond between them was
talímenios
. Even Seregil couldn’t fully interpret it, but by then there’d been no need for words.
    For Alec, it was a unity of souls forged in spirit and flesh. Seregil had been able to read him like a tavern slate since the day they’d met; now his own intuition was such that at times he almost knew his friend’s thoughts. As they stood here now, he could feel anger, fear, and longing radiating from Seregil in palpable waves.
    â€œI told you a little about it once, didn’t I?” Seregil asked at last.
    â€œOnly that you were tricked into committing some crime, and that you were exiled for it.”
    â€œAnd for once you didn’t ask a hundred questions. I’ve always appreciated that. But now—”
    â€œYou want to go back,” Alec said softly.
    â€œThere’s more to it than that.” Seregil folded his arms tightly across his chest.
    Alec knew from long experience how difficult it was for Seregil to speak of his past. Even talímenios hadn’t changed that, and he’d long since learned not to pry.
    â€œI better finish plucking this goose,” Seregil said at last. “Tonight, after the others are settled, I promise we’ll talk. I just need time to take this all in.”
    Alec clasped Seregil’s shoulder, then left him to his thoughts.
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    Alone at last, Seregil stared blindly across the water, feeling unwelcome memories rising like a storm tide.
    the solid finality of the knife’s bloody handle clenched in his fist—choking, suffocating in the darkness—angry faces, jeering—
    Bowing his head, he pressed his hands over his face like an eyeless mask and sobbed.

3
O LD G HOSTS S TIRRING
    A n early half-moon was already rising in the evening sky when Seregil returned. Beka’s riders had set up camp and had cook fires going. He looked for familiar faces, wondering which decuria she’d brought, and was surprised at how few people he recognized.
    â€œNikides, isn’t it?” he asked, approaching a small group gathered around the nearest fire.
    â€œLord Seregil! It’s good to see you again,” the young man exclaimed, clasping hands with him.
    â€œAre you still with Sergeant Rhylin?”
    â€œI’m here, my lord,” Rhylin called, coming out of one of the little tents.
    â€œAny idea what all this is about?” asked Seregil.
    Rhylin shrugged. “We go where we’re told, my lord. All I know is that we head back down toward Cirna from here, to meet up with the rest of the turma. The captain’s waiting for you over at the cabin. Just so you know, she’s in one hell of a hurry to move on.”
    â€œSo I gathered, Sergeant. Rest well while you can.”
    Beka was sitting with Alec and Micum by the front door. Ignoring her expectant look, Seregil tossed Alec the goose and went to wash his hands in a basin by the rain barrel.
    â€œSupper smells good,” he noted, giving Micum a wink as he sniffed the pleasant aromas wafting from the open doorway. “Lucky for you Alec’s the cook tonight, and not me.”
    â€œI thought you looked thin,” Micum said with a chuckle as they went in.
    â€œNot quite your Wheel Street villa, is it?” Beka remarked, gesturing around the cabin’s single room.
    Alec grinned. “Call it an exercise in austerity. The snow got so deep this past winter we had to cut a hole in the roof to get out. Still, it’s better than a lot of places we’ve been.”
    The place was certainly a far cry from the comfortably cluttered rooms he and Seregil had shared at the Cockerel, or Seregil’s fine Wheel Street villa. A low-slung bed took up nearly a quarter of the floor. A rickety table stood near it, with crates and stools serving as chairs. Shelves, hooks, and a few battered chests held their modest belongings. Squares of oiled parchment were nailed over the two tiny windows to keep out the drafts. In the stone fireplace a kettle bubbled on an iron hook over the flames.
    â€œI looked in at Wheel Street last month,” Micum remarked as they crowded around the table. “Old Runcer’s been ailing, but he still manages to keep the place just as you left it. A