The Tears of Kas̆dael

Ardus̆ar regretted everything. When his cousin had first assigned him to the job, his course had seemed clear. The trip from Dur-Sade to Merom was a relatively safe and easy one, if a bit rain-soaked. They had plenty of time to make it clear to the little lass how imminently unsuited for the job she was, and he'd fully expected her to break by the time they reached the city, if not sooner. And once she quit, they'd head back to the palace and the emperor, seeing the mistake he'd made, would appoint someone suitable, like his cousin. The plan had seemed so simple, so utterly destined to end with a thick bag of coins jangling at his waist, and a restored position of prominence for their House.

Of course, he realized now how painfully naive they'd been. Their plan had probably been doomed from the start because they hadn't known how truly desperate the girl was for this position - hadn't been aware of the pressure she was under from that upjumped merchant house, or the little brother whose future she was trying so hard to protect. Honestly, knowing all the details, Ardus̆ar even felt a little bad for her, although these circumstances had prevented them from succeeding, as her desperation had given her the strength to endure their slights.

But the plan hadn't well and truly gone to the Void until he showed up. While Lady Selenīlat may have been officially the ambassador for the Empire, it was obvious now that the Djinn and his party were the real diplomats. Ardus̆ar didn't need to be a political genius to understand the message Lord Eligon intended when he sent a party with a Djinn, a durgu, an elf, a Corsyth princess, and a bloody Feykin to meet with his reluctant allies from the North.

The worst part was being stuck with the man. Lord Yas̆peh was so casual, full of smiles and jokes, like he was trying to be your friend, but Ardus̆ar wasn't deceived. He'd seen behind the mask back at the tavern when the man had nearly burned him alive, seen the power he hid when he'd casually revealed a second affinity against the S̆algu, seen the pride that drove him when the man had refused to bow before a god until the high priest came to meet them. It was obvious Lord Yas̆peh was playing some subtle game, but for what purpose he couldn't say. 'Tis enough to drive a man to drink, though, he thought glumly as he slipped the flask from his waist and took a furtive sip.

"Drinking your breakfast?" A cheerful voice hailed him from behind, and Ardus̆ar couldn't have dropped the flask in the dirt faster if it had turned red-hot.

"No, my lord," he stammered out.

"Couldn't blame you too much if you did. Unfortunately, today is Tsia's day to cook, and I can already smell the eggs a-burning, but when a princess cooks for you, you can't exactly say no, can you?" the mage winked.

"N-no, my lord, I'll be right there," Ardus̆ar stammered out, his flask forgotten in the dust as he bolted towards the cluster of tents reserved for the noble party. The foul scent of sulfur and iron assaulted his nose as he approached the campfire, but the lord trailed behind, with that false smile of his, and Ardus̆ar knew he was screwed.

He piled a large heaping of the eggs on his plate, somehow simultaneously charred in some parts while still gooey in others, and hid his grimace as the princess beamed with delight.

"See, I told you they weren't that bad - you just like to complain," she told the Feykin, who laughed her off.

"Some of us still have taste buds, Tsia."

His stomach rumbled unpleasantly as Ardus̆ar took his sad plate of food over to the rest of the guards and sat down. He didn't dare look, but he could feel Lord Yas̆peh's eyes on his back, watching him, judging him, waiting for him to mess up again. With a shudder, he scooped up a big chunk of the soggy, scorched eggs and shoved it into his mouth. It was going to be a long, terrible trip.

"Wow, that dude is really going to town on your eggs." Jasper pointed the guard out to Tsia, distracting her as he took the smallest possible scoop of the eggs he could manage without offending her. He wasn't sure if they tasted better than it smelled, or if the man just had a belly of iron, but he was glad at least one person seemed to be enjoying her efforts. She really did try; she was just somehow almost supernaturally bad at cooking.

Helping himself to a larger serving of the potatoes, which, thanks to Erin's intervention, seemed to be more or less edible, he shot the guard a friendly nod before heading over toward Ihra on the far side of the camp.

They had a rough start, but things seemed to be going better now. He had no further complaints about the guards' efforts in protecting Nīla - hell, if anything, they'd practically glued themselves to her. There was still a little bit of awkwardness between them and the rest of the party, but it seemed to be easing up, thanks in large part to his efforts, not that he wanted to brag. At least someone finds me funny.

Better yet, the trip had gone surprisingly well. They'd made it down the mountain without further incident and departed from Merôm the day afterward. The roads in Merôm were nothing like the swamps they'd been forced to trudge through in Amur-Corsyth. Wide, well-paved, and well-trafficked, the roads made traveling a breeze, or at least as much of a breeze as the mostly medieval travel options allowed - it was a damn shame there were no planes.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Really, the only downside had been the relatively mundane landscape they were passing through. Jasper had become accustomed to the Empire offering him views of unnatural beauty - breathtaking mountains, jungles the size of the Amazon, and rivers that made the Amazon look like a puddle. So it was a bit of a letdown to discover that the province, after the admittedly impressive S̆ams̆a's Throne had faded into the distance, was decidedly uninspiring.

The rollicking hills had given way to endless plains, and whatever forests may once have populated the lands had long ago been chopped down and replaced with fields as far as the eye could see. They were at least green, already budding from the spring planting, but the landscape bore more in common with driving through Nebraska on I-70 than the typical eyedropping beauty he'd come to expect. I guess everywhere has to have some place that's 'normal.' Too bad we have to spend a month or two traveling through it.

With a little sigh, he plopped down beside Ihra, eyeing the eggs with a shiver of distaste.

"You actually took some of those?" she raised a skeptical brow.

"I didn't want to hurt her feelings."

Ihra shrugged. "She's a literal princess, and the strongest mage her age we've met. It's good for her to be bad at something. Will keep her humble."

"Right…humble," Jasper chuckled. "That's definitely one of the top 1000 words that comes to mind when describing Tsia." Taking a risk, he scooped up a spoonful of the eggs first and shoved them in his mouth. He took about three chews before quickly turning his head and spitting them out in the grass. "Holy crap, they're somehow worse than they look."

"Here." Caught off guard, he snatched the small object Ihra tossed at him just before it landed in the spit-up eggs and rolled it over in his hands. Hardtack. "At our last stop, I decided to stock up on something edible for Tsia's day of cooking," Ihra explained as he gratefully bit into the dried cracked. It was hard as hell and overly salty, but in comparison to the eggs, it was practically gourmet. Carefully dumping the rest of the eggs in the tall grass, he finished the hardtack and potatoes and washed them down with a full canteen of water before lying back and staring up at the sky.

Another day on the road lay ahead of them, another day of dust and tedium and saddlesores. "How much further till we reach the rendezvous point?"

"Three weeks maybe?" Ihra screwed up her face thoughtfully. "If we could just go at a normal pace, we'd probably already be there, but with our 'wards' slowing us down…"

"I'm not sure we know what a normal pace is any longer," Jasper chuckled. "Frankly, Nīla and the guards are starting to look a little rundown."

"I know," she sighed. "The other day, she asked me if we could maybe only go twenty or thirty miles a day - it would take two months to get there at that pace."

"Well, it should start to get easier for her soon." While they'd encountered little to no danger on the road, they'd made a point of taking Nīla out hunting most of the nights, and the animal kills had made a small but noticeable increase in her levels. "She's what, almost level 40?"

"Level 40," Ihra laughed. "The guards are past 100, and they can't keep up. Level 40 isn't going to do anything for her. I don't want to take a rest, but we may have to."

"Maybe," Jasper agreed, but whatever else he planned to say was lost as Ihra raised a hand shushing him, her head cocked to the side. "What is it-"

She bolted to her feet and raced across the small clearing toward their tents in graceful, bounding steps that he couldn't hope to keep up with. He followed as close as he could, though, and his eyes swept across the crowd gathered around the campfire, he realized a familiar face was missing. Two of them, actually - Ardus̆ar and Nīla.

Don't tell me that idiot's gone and done something stupid again. Fueled by concern, he reached new speeds, running with all the grace of a newborn fawn as he leapt over a pile of kindling and careened around the corner of the haphazardly erected tents in pursuit of the bobbing pair of antlers ahead of them.

"Healing." She barked out from ahead, flipping to the side as she attacked an unseen assailant, and his hands twisted with Circle of Forgiveness. "Not me."

Breaching the corner, his stomach twisted as he saw the body lying on the ground, sprawled in a pool of blood. Ardus̆ar looked like he'd gone through a threshing machine. All four of his limbs appeared to be broken, most of them bent at unnatural angles, while a dozen deep cuts gushed blood. His breath still rattled in his lungs, but he was seconds away from bleeding out.

Jasper released the spell, grunting in pain as an assailant he hadn't noticed leaped on him from behind, and thrust a dagger into his shoulder blade. "Duck."

He dropped to his knees, taking the attacker's dagger with him, as Ihra flung her own, having already dispatched the assassin she was fighting. There was a gurgling sound behind him as Aphora's misericorde flickered overhead, but Jasper didn't bother to look behind. Ignoring the blade still stuck in his shoulder, he cast Circle of Forgiveness on Ardus̆ar again, and the man stirred lightly as the wounds began to seal.

"Sel-sel." Jasper shushed the guard with murmured assurance, carefully easing him over as he pulled Nīla out from under the man. She was covered in blood and shaking like a leaf, but he couldn't tell if she had any actual wounds.

"Are you hurt?"

He let out a sigh of relief as she shook her head and turned his attention back to the guard. Go figure, he actually did something right. There would be time to figure out what had happened later, but for now, he just needed to get the man stable. "Don't worry, buddy," he said lightly, patting the man on the shoulder. "We'll get you all fixed up. You'll be ready for round two in no time."

For some reason, the guard didn't seem reassured by the prospect.