Traitor's Moon

gaze.
    â€œWas there something more?” she demanded curtly.
    Traneus fixed his gaze somewhere on the tent wall behind her. “It was difficult to make out the queen’s voice, General, yet from what I was able to hear, Idrilain believes the commander is the only one of her children capable of carrying out the mission.”
    Phoria’s fingers clenched momentarily on the arms of her chair, but she schooled herself to patience. Much as the words rankled, she knew they would only strengthen her position with the others. Korathan’s face had darkened. Aralain was studying her fingernails.
    â€œThe queen plans to send Lord Seregil with Klia,” Traneus added. “Apparently Magyana knows where to find him and that young man of his.”
    â€œMother’s pet Aurënfaie brought back to heel, eh?” Phoria sneered.
    â€œDon’t be hateful,” Aralain murmured. “He was always kind to us. If Mother didn’t mind that he left when the war began, why should you? It’s not as if he’d have been any use as a soldier.”
    â€œAnd good riddance!” Phoria muttered. “The man was a sensualist and a fop. He clung to rich young nobles like a tick to a dog’s back. How much of your gold did he help spend, Kor?”
    He shrugged. “He was an amusing fellow, in his own peculiar way. I imagine he’ll do well enough as an interpreter.”
    â€œKeep a close eye on my mother and her visitors, Captain,” Phoria ordered.
    Saluting, Traneus disappeared back into the night.
    â€œSeregil?” Korathan mused. “I wonder what Lord Torsin thinks of that? He’s more of your opinion, as I recall.”
    â€œI can’t imagine Seregil’s people will be in any hurry to welcome him back, either,” Phoria agreed, dismissing the matter. “Now, as for this mission of Klia’s, we’ll want an observer of our own among the company.”
    â€œYour man Traneus?” suggested Aralain with her usual lack of imagination.
    Phoria spared her a withering glance. “Or perhaps we should begin with someone Klia trusts, someone she’ll speak openly around.”
    â€œAnd someone in a position to send dispatches,” Korathan added.
    â€œWho, then?” asked Aralain.
    Phoria arched a knowing eyebrow. “Oh, I have one or two people in mind.”

2
A N U NEXPECTED S UMMONS
    B eka Cavish paced the ship’s foredeck, scanning the western horizon for the first dark line marking Skala’s northeast territories. It had been a week since they’d ridden out from Idrilain’s camp; it might be another before they rejoined Klia for the voyage south and she didn’t take well to inactivity.
    She plucked absently at the new gorget hanging at the throat of her green regimental tunic. The captain’s brass seemed to sit more heavily against her chest than the plain steel crescent of lieutenant. She’d been perfectly content leading her turma and they’d made a name for themselves as raiders behind the enemy’s lines: Urgazhi, “wolf demons”—bestowed on them by the enemy during the early days of the war. They wore the epithet as a badge of honor, but it had been dearly bought. Of the thirty riders under her command today, only half had come through those days and knew the truth behind the silly ballads sung across Skala and Mycena, knew where the fallen bodies of their comrades lay along the Plenimaran frontier.
    The turma was at full strength now for the first time in months, thanks to this mission. Never mind that some of the newer recruits had only just lost their milk teeth, as Sergeant Braknil liked to say. Perhaps, Sakor willing,they could be taught a thing or two before they all found themselves back in battle.
    Less than a month before, Urgazhi Turma had been slogging through frozen Mycenian swamps, and even that was better than some fighting they’d seen.
    Fighting across windswept sea ledges, the waves red with blood about their feet
.
    Beka leaned on the rail, watching a school of dolphins leaping ahead of the prow. The closer she came to seeing Seregil and Alec again, the more the memories of their last parting after the defeat of Duke Mardus rose to haunt her.
    That brief battle had cost her father the use of his leg, Nysander his life, and Seregil his sanity for a time. Months later she’d had a letter from her father, saying that Seregil and Alec had quit Rhíminee