“The young prince is correct,” the scholar Katsumoto said. “My study of the marshal’s tactics suggests he would not choose the most obvious target. However, as well as the emperor knew the marshal, so, too, the marshal knew the emperor. He could foresee that we would know he’d not choose that town… and target it because we will not go there.”
Tyrus groaned. “Or he could foresee that, too… and so target it anyway. We’ll tie ourselves in knots if we follow this logic. What of the towns themselves? The geography, the defensibility, the number of guards…”
A fine idea, except neither town seemed the obvious choice. As they argued, Ashyn could see Tyrus growing more frustrated, Moria with him.
“There is no clear answer,” Moria said finally. She paused, catching Ashyn’s eye and dipping her gaze. “I mean no disrespect, your highness.”
Tyrus passed her sister a tired but affectionate smile. “If I didn’t want you speaking your mind, I’d have asked you to stay outside. Go on, my lady.”
“There is no clear answer,” she repeated. “But the longer we argue, the more likely we are to ride out to find another Fairview. Either we choose one at random or we split up and ride to both.”
“I’ll not split our force in two,” Tyrus said. “Nor will I let mere chance decide our course. The decision – and the blame – must be mine. I choose Riverside. I believe Alvar will quickly tire of playing in the safety of shadows, and the bolder strike is Riverside. We ride there now.”
By the time their party was to leave, the moon was past its zenith. They headed out immediately.
The warriors found a camp farther along the edge of the Wastes, but the fires were cold and scattered, the refuse rotted. No tracks led from it, suggesting the bandits had taken the children and retreated into the rocky plain of the Wastes. Tyrus could not spare men to look further. The Wastes were too vast; their party too small.
As they traveled they used the wagons to catch brief moments of sleep. When dawn came, Tyrus was asleep in the wagon, having practically needed Moria’s blade at his throat to convince him to rest.
“The emperor was wrong,” Moria said.
Ashyn hushed her, but they were scouting off the road with their beasts, and Moria clearly saw no need to hold her tongue.
“As happy as I am to have Tyrus here, it should have been the crown prince.”
“I think Tyrus is doing a fine job.”
“Of course he is,” Moria said. Then she steered her horse around a rabbit hole. “The point is that he should not have to make these decisions. If anything goes wrong…”
Moria sucked in breath, as if she did not wish to contemplate that. Nor did Ashyn. If Tyrus had chosen wrong and another town perished, the blame would fall at his feet. Would Emperor Tatsu let that happen? Worse, had he considered that and sent the son he could most afford to lose?
“The emperor killed our mother,” Moria said, as if sensing her fears.
“No, Moria. Our mother took her own life —”
“— so that she and our father wouldn’t be exiled to the Forest of the Dead. That is his law. The emperor’s.”
“It’s the law of the empire. A very old law.”
“He could change it.”
Ashyn said nothing, just twisted the ring on her finger – her mother’s ring. She understood the weight of tradition and the difficulties of reforming it. Moria would not. She blamed Emperor Tatsu for their mother’s death. It was difficult to remember that in the presence of the man himself. But out here, when Moria had other cause to think poorly of him?
“What if Tyrus succeeds?” Moria said. “What if he saves Riverside, finds the children, and rousts Alvar Kitsune? How would his brothers react then?”
He would be a hero, and that was as dangerous for Tyrus as failure.
“Ashyn?” called a voice. The horses started. The girls got them under control just as Ashyn saw Ronan loping over.
“Blast it,” Moria muttered. “We survive shadow stalkers and death worms and thunder hawks, and you’re trying to make our horses unseat us and dash out our brains.”
“If your beasts were better guardians, they’d have warned you.”
“You can’t expect horses —”
“I meant them.” He waved at Tova and Daigo, who joined forces in a simultaneous growl.
“They are not —”
“Mere beasts, I know. They are the spirits of great warriors. Sometimes, though, I think if they were the spirits of great beasts, they’d be more useful.”
“You’re in an ill temper,” Ashyn said as she climbed off her horse. “I’m sure this is longer than you planned to be away from your brother and sister. If you wish to go back, I’ll make sure you have supplies. Tyrus would understand. We know you need to look after your siblings.”
“They looked after themselves for four moons without me. Yes, I’ve been gone longer than anticipated and I’d like to return soon, but they need the prince’s money more than they need me home. It would make my job easier, though, if you two weren’t always wandering off.”
“I thought your job was scouting,” Moria said.
“Precisely. My job is scouting. Not yours.”
“We are permitted to wander,” Ashyn said evenly. “We’re both armed with blades, and we have our bond-beasts. However, we take your meaning, and we’ll return to the convoy now.”