Sweeping up his clothes and armor, he stepped down from the dock. Lizzan had laughed that he’d dressed as the Parsatheans did. In the north, the cold demanded layers of furs and skins—as did a Kothan prince’s costume. Already he’d shed as many layers from that costume as he could, but if given his preference, he’d wear as little as the southern warriors. If his new purpose was to help see an alliance formed between the northern realms, however, then he would still dress as a prince.
A prince with minders. Degg hovered close behind as Aerax approached Tyzen.
“I am told this fisherwoman followed the Destroyer around the world in search of her son,” Aerax said, and saw the High Daughter glance up from where she was examining the body of one of the bandits. “She might have heard more about his weaknesses, or learned what his purpose is.”
Tyzen nodded. “I will ask two of our warriors to stay and see what she has to say, then catch up with us after they’ve learned all they can. Does that suit you, Kelir?”
“It does.”
“And what of the horses?” Tyzen asked. “The bandit-slayer would not sell them?”
Aerax avoided that answer by pulling a tunic over his head.
Kelir laughed at him again. “Next time we will send Seri to ask. Nothing will distract my sister from securing a new mount. Unless it is your hope to see the bandit-slayer again?”
That would always be Aerax’s hope.
* * *
* * *
By the time each wagon and cart in the caravan had been ferried across the river, it was nearing midday. No hope did Aerax have of catching Lizzan, but easily he could track her—until they reached Oana.
It was a village unlike any other he’d seen, with much of it built into the jungle canopy. Rope bridges served as paths between gargantuan trees fed by the same springs that filled the healing baths.
For much of his life, Aerax had hunted amid the giant pines of the northern forest, but the size of these trees dwarfed those by comparison. Yet his awe was nothing to Seri’s, who told him that on the Burning Plains, there were so few trees that she hadn’t seen one until she’d been nearly a dozen years of age.
“Many wondrous things I have seen on this journey now,” she said, head tilted far back. “Never did I think one would be trees as tall as Syssia’s towers.”
“Not that tall, I think,” Tyzen told her. “More of a height to Ephorn’s tower.”
The young monk riding behind Tyzen joined in, naming another tower, and all three argued until they reached the stables where the bandits’ horses were kept—but Lizzan had already paid for the animals’ board and left. Aerax tracked her to the wide wooden steps that spiraled up a tree trunk and into the village’s higher levels, but no trace of her could he see on the stairs.
Nor could he go in search of her. No time did Riasa waste before securing a private dining hall at an inn, where they might discuss alliances with the High Daughter.
Seri volunteered to wait at the stables and to purchase the horses if Lizzan returned. Aerax bade Caeb to remain with the girl, so the cat would not go wandering in search of Lizzan and panicking those who would not expect to encounter a saber-toothed beast prowling through the canopy.
The inn was on one of the lower levels, with a fine view of the falls beyond the wooden railing that edged the dining hall. Aerax found himself seated near the head of the table, across from Tyzen and with the High Daughter at his right side. To his left was Riasa, and then Lady Junica, and he could not tell if the tightness of the councilor’s expression was because she could not easily prevent him from offending the High Daughter from that distance—or if her back still pained her, even upon the cushioned chairs.
Beyond her sat Degg. Then Uland, the Kothan captain who served as the head of their guard, but who was not here in that capacity. Instead he might supplement any answers regarding the Kothan army if the Krimathean needed them. Kelir and Ardyl had likely joined them for the same reason. Easily they sat talking to Uland. Between Kelir and Tyzen was the young monk, who blushed fiercely and quivered like a yearling buck that had caught wind of a snow cat whenever Kelir or Ardyl spoke to him.