high and distinctive. Their features were not so physically dissimilar from that of the Numrek Mena had known, but the demeanor behind them was different, calmly intelligent, at ease in a manner no Numrek’s had ever been.
Auldek, Mena thought. Not Numrek.
As if to verify this, Calrach appeared behind the man. The Numrek’s face was a blunt twist of angry surprise. “Akaran,” he said, his accent thick with disgust. “You stupid bitch!”
Mena shifted her posture, ready to draw her sword.
“Princess Mena?” another voice said, in clear Acacian this time. A man squirmed between the two warriors and stood beside the Auldek’s shoulder. Despite the fantastic strangeness of it, Mena recognized him immediately. Rialus Neptos. “Is it really you? By the Giver-”
The Auldek snapped at him in his language.
“Yes, yes,” Rialus sputtered. He switched to the foreign tongue. Mena understood none of it, save when he said her name. The Auldek’s eyes widened at it, his interest gaining substance. The woman’s, in contrast, narrowed.
“Princess,” Rialus said, “what are you doing here?”
Elya hissed and snapped at one of the flying creatures.
Looking up, Mena said, “Tell them to call those things off. I can’t talk with them above us.”
“Oh, yes, the freketes,” Rialus said. “They are vile. I’ll ask Howlk to call them back.” He spoke Auldek to the man who had been riding one of the creatures. The Auldek man looked up, bemused, as if he had not noticed the circling monsters. It was the woman who barked a command. Several others picked it up. Noisy moments passed, but eventually the freketes flew away. Most came to rest at vantage points on the now still carriage buildings.
Attention back on her, Mena cleared her throat. She released her sword hilt. Considering how outnumbered she was, gripping it could show weakness instead of strength. She tried to find a different place for her hand to settle. She kept the focus of her eyes deliberate: her gaze on Rialus, on the Auldek directly in front of her.
“Rialus Neptos,” she said, “we must do this correctly. Introduce me to them, and them to me-if these be their monarchs.”
“Oh, they don’t have monarchs,” Rialus said. “Clan chieftains, yes, but that’s not the same as-”
The Auldek man nudged him. If Mena had not been so tense, she might have been amused. Even if he could not understand Acacian, the Auldek knew a Neptos ramble gaining speed when he heard one.
Rialus spoke Numrek-Auldek, Mena corrected-again. A few moments later, he turned back to Mena. “They understand who you are. This man is Devoth of the clan Lvin. This woman is Sabeer, his wife. They are… like monarchs, in a way. There are chieftains from other clans as well, though. It’s complicated. You see, there are-” Devoth clicked his tongue. Rialus spoke rapidly. “Yes, yes, you can speak to them. There are no higher among them.”
“What of you?” Mena asked. “Can I trust you to speak my words as I say them? You have betrayed your country, after all.”
Rialus looked stricken. “No! Never. I am a prisoner among them!” He said this last with his voice slightly lowered. A strange action, for it was still easy enough for the others to hear. “I am faithful. The queen can be assured of it. Tell her that if you get back to her. I-I always work to… deter them. It’s not easy, though.”
“No, I don’t imagine so.” Mena pursed her lips. What choice did she have but to use this man as her translator? “Tell him I speak for the Empire of Acacia and for all the Known World. By Queen Corinn’s charge, I demand to know their purpose here.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Calrach said, gesturing around him. “See with your eyes.”
“Rialus,” Mena asked, jutting her chin at the Numrek chieftain, “has this one any status here?”
Rialus considered. Shrugged. “Not much.”
“Good. Then tell him to shut his mouth. He has no status in Acacia either. No status. No kin. They are all dead.”
“You lie.”
Mena crossed her arms as he spoke. “I killed the assassins sent to slay Prince Aaden myself. We butchered Greduc and Codeth in the Carmelia. My Marah and I cut them to pieces. I wish you had been there to see.”
“Do not believe her, Devoth,” Calrach said. “My clan is in a fortress that cannot be taken. They await word of us to begin a new slaughter.” He seemed to catch late that he was speaking Acacian. He switched to his own tongue.
“That plug of stone in Teh? That was no protection. Corinn called Crannag to the field and used her sorcery against them. They all died, Calrach. Your clan is no more.”
“You lie!” Calrach spat. He stepped toward her.
Mena backed up, her hand on her sword.
Devoth slammed an arm against the Numrek’s chest, stopping him. He demanded a translation from Rialus. After it, he responded through Rialus, “If what you say is true, I am filled with happiness.”
“He misunderstands me,” Mena said. “Queen Corinn’s powers are unmatched. She killed all the Numrek, and she will do the same to you if you continue into our lands. She sent me to tell you to turn around. She sent me so you know her conviction. Tell him so that he understands.”
Before Rialus could begin, Devoth said, this time speaking heavily accented Acacian, “I understand.”
Rialus turned and gazed at him, stunned.
“I know your tongue. I once had thoughts to… know your country. I learned your talking from the divine children. I asked them about your people. They could tell little, though. They were children only. Always children. I grew bored and forgot much. Years long back.” He grinned. “As you can see, I have found interest again.”
For the first time, the crowd was hushed to real silence.
“I understand what you say,” Devoth said. “It’s good what you say.”
Calrach tried to speak.
Devoth ignored him. “The Numrek are the Numrek.” He gestured with his fingers, trying to find the words to explain himself. His fingers opened as if they were dropping something inconsequential, dust that could be blown away on the breeze. “It is good to hear that your queen defeats them. A better foe for us, then.”
Mena was speechless, unsure how to respond. It was not just what he said that unnerved her. It was the undisguised confidence with which he said it. Not bravado. Not arrogance. Not foolery. Just…
“What else do you want to say to us? Rialus, translate so that all can hear.”
“I…” She hesitated, and then had an idea. She spoke so that her voice would carry. “I see you have humans among you. The queen wants them to know that we have no quarrel with them. We would welcome them back to Acacia, free citizens of wherever they choose to live. They need not fight for their enslavers anymore.”
Devoth listened, both to Mena and to the conclusion of Rialus’s translation. He looked around, content to let the offer sink in to all who heard it. “That is a clever idea, but you have it wrong. Your queen may have no quarrel with them, but they have a quarrel with her. You sold them as children. We raised them.”
“As slaves!”
“What do you know about it? We raised them. We gave them clans to belong to. We taught them a way to belong.”
“You made them slaves.”
“No, you made them slaves! We made them our children!” As fast as Devoth’s temper flared, he reined it in. With a calm, assured voice he said, “We have already made a pledge to them. After they help us defeat you, they will all be free to do as they wish. They will be slaves no longer, and we-not you-will be the ones who freed them. If what I have said is not true, anyone may say so now.”
The silence that followed was interrupted only by the grunts and chatter from the freketes. No one spoke.
Eventually, Mena said, “I have said what I came to say. You will find no Numrek waiting for you. If you fight us, we will destroy you just as we did them, and we will not make these offers again. If you turn now, we will not pursue you. Turn now. Let us forget each other.”
Devoth shrugged. “If you are done… Would you stay long enough to eat with us?”
“What?”
“To eat.” The Auldek scooped imaginary food into his mouth. “You are safe with us. Come eat. Have a drink. Rest before you go home.”
Mena realized that sometime in the last few minutes fear had drained out of her. Confidence with it. And
