The Shadowbearer (An Aegis of the Gods Book)

Chapter 4

Days later, Stefan sat in his pavilion tapping time on his helmet. Raindrops drummed on the canvas, while the winds howled and buffeted the gray–white walls. The rain was a welcome respite to the sweltering heat the past few weeks. So far, there had been no more incidents with the Ashishin, but the breaks needed by them brought the entire process of mending the Astocans to a crawl.

To make issues worse, if the elements didn’t stabilize sometime soon, the Travelshafts would be of no use. His army would have to march from the Sang Reaches across some two thousand miles or more to Benez. Although the trip was mainly through farmland and grassy plains, it could take at least three weeks and that was if he took only his cavalry. Waiting for the entire army meant adding another three months.

“The bloody gods of Flows laugh at the plans of men,” he grumbled under his breath as he stared at the map.

Stefan glanced up at the rustle from the pavilion’s entrance. The rain became a roar and the wind a wail as Kasimir’s slim form ducked inside, water streaming down his armor.

The Knight General cleared the hair plastered to his forehead and cheek before he spoke. “Sir, a report arrived from Kaden. The elements calmed overnight. The Shin have been able to mend all the Astocans.”

Stefan’s lips twitched into a smile. “And here I was cursing the gods.”

“I knew you’d like that.” Kasimir grinned. “Garrick and the Knight Captains are gathering the men. We assumed you weren’t planning on waiting out the storm.”

“You know me too well.” Stefan stood and pulled on his gloves. Lips pursed, he traced a finger south from the Sang Reaches through the swamps and into Castere. “With the storm, the Sinking Swamps will be too treacherous to pass if we wanted to use the Travelshafts at Castere. The next closest city is Konele, here.” He moved his hand west. “Have a contingent stay behind to take apart the tents and follow when they’re done. Send the scorpios and wagons through first with enough men to protect them should the Svenzar decide this is a good place for a raid.”

“Do you really think they will strike this far south?”

“We have seen how quickly the Svenzar can traverse any mountain range. Considering they built the shafts, who is to say they don’t have a way to reach them easier than we do?”

“If that’s the case, why not wait?”

“And risk Mater becoming unstable again? No. We leave now.”

Kasimir nodded. “I’ll make sure all is ready.” The Knight General turned on his heels and left.

After Stefan pulled on his helmet, he took one last look around his pavilion. In ways, he would miss his tent, but he was also glad to be heading home. Thania’s silky hair and golden eyes called to him. With a sigh, he pulled back the tent flap and stepped outside.

Immediately, the rain pattered on his helm and the wind snatched at his cloak. He ignored both and slogged through mud to where his horse was tethered. Despite the weather, the camp had a purposeful bustle about it as soldiers and Cardian slaves hurried along with their preparations. They were taking apart tents while others had the wagons and drays with their scorpios already in a line. To the west of the camp, a long snake of infantry waited. Ahead of them, horses stomping their impatience, the cavalry formed.

The storm had done a good job of washing away the stench of thirty thousand soldiers. No longer did the pungent smells of piss, shit, or sweat hang. Instead, Stefan drew in a breath of freshness. Muddy freshness but satisfying all the same. He was mounting when the sound of racing hooves reached him.

Silversteel armor unmistakable even with the deluge and dark clouds that made the afternoon more akin to dusk, a Pathfinder raced through the camp. When the man drew closer, Stefan made out the golden shield chased into the breastplate.