Serovek fished a folded parchment from an inner pocket of his vest and passed it to Brishen to read. “He doesn’t go into detail, only saying the Jeden Order has asked that Megiddo be returned to them. No explanation as to why.”
Brishen quickly scanned the correspondence before glancing up. “You told me once the Jeden Order worships a single god and are skilled in warfare. Anything else?” He set the letter down and refilled his cup, offering to do the same for Ildiko, who declined with a quick shake of her head.
Serovek didn’t refuse, holding up his cup for a second pour. “Besides the fact they tread on heretic territory? No.”
Anhuset spoke up then, addressing Brishen. “He is one of theirs. Why wouldn’t they want him back?” Though she didn't mention it, she hoped Megiddo’s sword might be returned to the monks along with his body. Nothing good would come of remnant magic spun up from the spellwork of a long-dead Kai wizard dabbling in necromancy.
An arrested expression passed over her cousin’s face. “Maybe,” he said in a studied, noncommittal voice. “Maybe not.”
She frowned, slipping into bast-Kai. “He isn’t your responsibility, Highness.”
He returned her frown. “I disagree. He’s bound by Kai magic.”
“Which you…” Anhuset paused, the words “no longer wield,” heavy on her tongue before she rolled them back. “Can’t control with him because his soul is no longer in this world.” She met Ildiko’s worried gaze, remembering the phantasmal blue glow that had passed through Brishen’s eye earlier.
Serovek refused a third helping of tea and pushed his empty cup away. “Your sha is right, Brishen,” he said in Common tongue. “I wanted to tell you about the message but not to place some misbegotten guilt on your shoulders. The monk’s order and his family agree he’s best residing with the other monks. Is it our right to refuse the request?”
Brishen remained frustratingly unmoved by the argument. “Possibly. The Jeden Order is located in a strife-ridden area. You said so yourself. The monks reclaimed their territory stolen by the warlord Chamtivos, but there are still skirmishes there.”
Serovek waved away his concerns. “I’ll have a contingent of troops with me to accompany Megiddo’s body to the monastery. Why anyone would want to make off with a soulless body defies reason, but they’ll have to work hard and be willing to bleed a great deal if they want him.”
Anhuset saw her chance. She left her vigil by the door to stand on the opposite side of the table from Brishen. “I can go with them to represent the Kai so the Beladine, and the monks know we honor the sacrifice one of their own made for us. I can also take his sword with us as well and deliver it to the monks.”
The words were barely out of her mouth before Brishen said “Absolutely not. The sword stays.”
There was a finality to his tone that made even Serovek’s eyebrows climb. Brishen was a genial man, yet there was in his voice a reminder that he was also a toughened warrior, a man who had destroyed his own mother’s corrupt soul without hesitation and battled abominations born of Elder magic. The prince regent of Bast-Haradis.
Again, Anhuset sought Ildiko’s gaze. The hercegesé gave a faint shake of her head, her features pale and disappointed, but she chose not to argue Brishen's edict. Megiddo’s ensorceled sword would remain at Saggara.
In an obvious attempt to break the tension in the room, Serovek turned to Anhuset, a smirk tilting the corners of his mouth a little. “A Kai warrior in our party. We won’t exactly blend in when we travel.”
She snorted. “When have you ever blended in?” She’d seen it for herself. Lord Pangion’s size alone commanded attention, but it was his demeanor that drew the eye more than anything. Despite his ugly human face, he possessed a presence that assured he’d never pass through a crowd unnoticed.
He chuckled, giving her a slight bow. “I yield the point to you. It will be a privilege to have Saggara’s famed sha-Anhuset join us.”
No longer stiff in his chair as if he braced to do battle, Brishen shook his head and gave his second a dubious look. “Try not to kill him before you’re halfway there,” he said. “I’ve been out of a war for less than a year. Don’t thrust me into another one by dismembering a Beladine margrave.”
Anhuset opened her mouth to assure him she could control her temper, but Serovek interrupted her. “And I’d prefer to keep all my arms and legs attached to the rest of me, thank you.” He laughed at her narrow-eyed glare. “I can't win every battle with just this handsome face.”
Forgetting her unspoken promise to rein in her temper, Anhuset growled and pointed a claw-tipped finger at Serovek while glaring at Brishen.
“My Lord Pangion,” Ildiko said, her wide grin exposing small, pearly horse teeth. “You do enjoy courting danger.”
Brishen echoed Serovek’s amusement with a laugh of his own. “My wife has the right of, friend.” He passed the letter from Megiddo’s brother back to Serovek. “I can send a company of troops along with Anhuset. I’d go myself except I’m needed here more.” A vague thread of regret wove through his voice.
“That won’t be necessary.” Serovek tucked the letter back into his vest. “A bigger party than ten, and we’ll be seen as something more threatening than travelers, especially with a group of toothy Kai accompanying us. One will be enough to make anyone think twice about annoying us. More than that, and we might have difficulty reaching our destination without a brawl or two.” He offered another half bow to Anhuset. “And I’ve seen your second fight. She’s worth at least three soldiers. We’ll be well defended.”
She didn't preen under so obvious a compliment, but it was difficult. He’d always been forthright in his admiration for her, and his praise in her martial skills set a small fire to burning gently in her gut. “I’ll do all in my power not to shame the Khaskem during our journey,” she said in carefully neutral tones.
Both men snorted at that before Brishen said, “That has never been in question, cousin. And never will be.” He turned back to the margrave. “When do you wish to leave, and where shall Anhuset meet you?”
“It'll take about five days to ready everything and leave instructions with my steward. Send sha-Anhuset to High Salure any time during then. We’ll travel from there to Cermak’s estate to retrieve the monk. Is this agreeable to you?”
Brishen looked to Anhuset who nodded. “Yes,” they both said together.
Ildiko was the first to rise from her place at the table. “You’ll spend the day with us, my lord? I have several rooms readied for guests. Saggara is finally empty of the crowds. You have your choice of chambers.”
Anhuset clasped her hands behind her back and adopted a bored look. Inside, she warred with herself, one part hoping he’d take up Ildiko’s invitation, the other hoping he declined. She refused to give credence to the bubble of disappointment when he declined.
Serovek rounded the table to take Ildiko’s hand and bowed over her knuckles before straightening with a smile. “Tempting as that is, I’ll take the hours to return to High Salure. I’d like to get this done without delay.” He glanced at Brishen. “Though if you don't mind, I’ll pay my respects to the little queen regnant before I leave.”
The prince nodded. “Of course. I’ll take you to see her. Ildiko is the only human she’s seen so far. She’ll be fascinated.”
Or frightened, Anhuset thought, but kept her silence.
Serovek saluted Ildiko. “As always, it’s a pleasure to see you again, Highness. Your hospitality has no equal.” He turned to Anhuset. She half-expected that teasing smirk, but he only saluted a second time, his voice serious. “Sha-Anhuset. Until we meet again.”
Anhuset returned the salute, disappointed by the lack of his good-natured taunting. “Margrave.”
The two men exited the room, leaving Ildiko and Anhuset alone. Anhuset stared at the closed door for a moment before speaking in a low voice. “There is no possible way you’ll claw that sword out of Brishen’s grip. Did you see his expression when I suggested it?”
Ildiko sighed. “I did. It will have to stay here for now, though I wish it otherwise. This isn’t surrender just yet. Let me see if I can talk him around to the idea of at least taking the sword to Emlek or giving it to Serovek to house. Anywhere but at Saggara.” She rubbed her arms as if chilled. “No good can come of storing the blade here. I can feel it.”
The two women parted ways then, Ildiko to join Brishen and Serovek, Anhuset to return to the barracks where she hastily stripped out of her formal garb for her more comfortable everyday wear. She bound her hair in a quick loop knot at the back of her head, shouldered on a cloak with hood to protect her eyes from the day’s coming sunlight, and left her room for the redoubt’s stables to join a contingent of others for guard duty along the shores of the Absu.
She found Serovek in the stableyard, giving direction to his men before they headed home to High Salure. Despite her concealing hood, he spotted her and waved her over to where he stood next to his horse.
“You should have taken the hercegesé up on her offer,” she said. “You’ll fall asleep in the saddle before you reach home.”
“Not like it hasn’t happened before.” He patted the horse’s neck. “Magas here can find his way home blindfolded.” He raised one of those expressive black eyebrows. “Are you asking me to stay?”
He was back to teasing her. She bristled. “No.”
He heaved a dramatic sigh. “Ah well. There’s no joy without hope, even when it’s dashed.”
“You’re going to vex me the entire trip to the monastery, aren’t you?”
He grinned. “I hope to charm you the whole way so that you fall into my arms by the time we arrive.”