structures—many of them stone huts that had likely stood here for centuries—were still intact, despite Dill’s orders to lay waste to the villages, and some of the soldiers took the opportunity to sleep inside.
Sev found a tiny one-room hut near the water, the dwelling so small and unremarkable that no one had bothered with it. All that remained after the evacuation was a cold box—now empty—meant to store perishable foodstuffs and a rickety wooden chair. Sev was looking forward to having a place where he and Kade might talk in private and was just in the middle of unpacking his bedroll when the sound of approaching footsteps reached him.
A soldier stood at the door. “Captain Dill wants to see you,” he said, ducking back out of the hut without another word.
Sev’s heart kicked inside his chest. Had he somehow discovered Sev was the informant?
Captain Dill’s command tent was nothing like Captain Belden’s, which had been dressed with fine furniture and tended by a personal servant. Belden had wanted the trappings of a lord commander, but Dill’s tent was modest, messy, and filled to the brim with rowdy soldiers surrounding a wide wooden table spread with maps and cups of ale.
“Sevro! Come in, come in,” Captain Dill said, waving to Sev from his seat at the head of the table, opposite the tent opening. The atmosphere wasn’t one of taut tension, and Sev allowed himself a breath of relief. Whatever this was, his secret was still safe.
“Thank you, Captain,” Sev said, sidling in and taking the seat offered to him by a nearby soldier—a barrel.
“Get him a cup!” Dill ordered, and Sev was soon plied with a mug of frothy ale, poured from another barrel in the corner of the tent. It was cheap stuff, but strong, and Sev knew he’d have to be careful if he wanted to keep his wits about him. Still, he didn’t want to appear formal or rude, so he drank deeply and lifted the mug in thanks.
Dill raised his cup in response—then drained it—before handing it to one of his soldiers to refill.
“As I said to you before, I wanted you here because you were one of the survivors of Belden’s attack,” he said, shuffling papers and putting a map of the lower rim on top. “And I assume you’re familiar with this hinterland—or at least more familiar than me.”
“Yes, I am,” Sev said. He did have some knowledge—he’d been born in Pyra, after all, and had traveled all the way to Azurec’s Eyrie the last time he’d ventured here—but he would have agreed regardless. He was in the command tent, and he suspected that after the preemptive evacuation of their first targeted settlements, Dill might keep the details of their next attack closer to the vest. He might not suspect an informant yet, but he would if Sev continued to do his job right. So Sev needed to learn what he could while he could, and the best way to do that was to stay inside this tent and to be invited back.
Dill nodded and took his refilled cup. “I suspect our backward route through the Foothills gave these villagers the time needed to evacuate. They must have scouts we don’t know about, or who knows, maybe the birds told them.”
He waited for laughter, and after a moment it came—loud and raucous. Sev joined in, then lifted his cup to block his expression. Technically, a bird did tell them, but the words were obviously meant to be a jab at animages. Seemed to Sev it only proved how useful the magical gift could be.
Gratified, Dill took another long draft and belched. “So, is there a better way to cross the country?” he asked, indicating the map on the table before them.
“Or a way to scare off the birds?” one of the soldiers asked, grinning. More laughter.
Sev wondered how they got anything done with all the jokes and jabs. He waited until the laughing died down, then cleared his throat to regain their attention. “It depends where you’re going,” he said with a shrug, keeping his tone as light as he could, burying his desperate need for the information deep down.
Dill picked up a wooden object carved in the shape of a foot soldier—a marker—and plunked it down on the map. Sev leaned forward. The marker was south and west of where they were now, near Runnet.
It was a busy trader’s town, nestled in close to a bend of the River Aurys and the Pilgrimage