“Kar-vessár wants to see you,” he said to me, though his eyes were on Ellare.
My stomach sunk. So Myar Mal was alive? Or had they just announced his successor?
“Let him decide what to do with her,” he finished.
I nodded, my throat tight. I gestured Ellare off the floor and we went out, with Saral Tal closing our procession. Was it because he didn’t trust me enough to turn his back on me?
In any case, his presence faded into background as more and more people stopped whatever they were doing to stare at me. My guts were churning like a bag of worms. Traitor, they seemed to scream. I wanted to sink into the ground.
Two healers awaited in front of the vessár-ai tent, demanding to see my bags. The joke was on them: I ate my last nut before coming here. Anyway, they barely looked at my stuff, so transfixed were they on Ellare. Even if I had some nuts, they would probably miss them. When they finally handed them back and parted before us, I breathed a sigh of relief at the thought that we would soon be out of sight of most of the camp. It was quickly snuffed out, though, when I realized who was waiting on the other side.
Cool air hit me as I entered. I tried my best to brace myself, but my knees were like jelly, and my insides twisted into a knot so tight, there was no room for them to turn anymore. And yet, as I crossed the threshold, my eyes fell on a figure even more grotesque than Tayrel Kan at his worst and I froze.
His skin was red and so swollen, it resembled raw dough more than a human flesh. Lips took up almost half the face, while eyes were reduced to mere slits. In sausage-like fingers, he held the breathing mask, but he refused to fasten it, only lifting it every once in a while.
“You should rest,” berated the elder vessár—Tyano Har-Vahir—but the figure brushed him off.
“I’ll rest when I’m dead,” he said with a raw, raspy voice, waving his hand dismissively. Light glimmered on a dallite ring and only then did I realize who it was.
Myar Mal.
He finally noticed me and for a moment his violet eyes met mine. Then they shifted towards Ellare and my heart stopped.
Two days ago I claimed to never have given anyone reason to doubt my loyalty. But there it was, plain and simple.
Traitor, screamed kar-vessár’s voice in my head.
“Aldait Han claims this woman is a local who hid from the rebels and only now managed to escape the mansion,” reported Saral Tal before I collected myself enough to speak.
Myar Mal was studying us. I wished I knew what he thought. Did he believe Saral Tal? Believe me?
After a few seconds, without a word, he twisted his wrist and Ellare collapsed like a sack of vye. I tried to grab her, but she slipped from my hands and hit the floor.
“Kiarn At, make sure our princess stays asleep until this mess is over,” said kar-vessár. Then he turned to me. “Aldait Han”
He threw something at me and this time I managed to catch it. I looked down: a silver sash. My stomach churned.
“Put it on and sit down, we don’t have the whole day. You take over your Cohort, Adyar Lah replaces Sanam Il in Second.”
I looked around, spotting the man sitting next to Innam Ar, eyes fixed on the tabletop, seemingly determined to avoid my gaze. His head was slumped and shoulders hunched. There was also another person, a woman I’d never seen before and had no artificially implanted knowledge about.
“We lost two more vessár-ai,” explained Myar Mal, the first notes of impatience seeping into his voice.
I hurriedly put on the sash and took the last available seat.
“All right, first things first,” started the kar-vessár. “Aldait Han, you received an order to submit all of your food products.”
I dropped my head, heat rushing to my face. My insides were twisting again, as if ready to burst from my body and skitter away.
“Yes, kar-vessár,” I murmured.
“You didn’t.”
I could feel his eyes boring into me. Everyone’s eyes boring into me. I tried to imagine myself melting into the chair.
“There was no… opportunity,” I stammered.
“What were you so busy with?” came mockingly from the side. Raison Dal-Aramek, whispered Tayrel Kan’s voice in my head. Vessár of the Eleventh Cohort, and unofficially, the leader of the medical team.
I clenched my fists, trying to calm myself. Truth was, I was just hoping the fight would be over and we’d be back in Sfal. And then Laik Var died and I…
“You’re juggling nuts, Aldait Han,” said Myar Mal. It was a Dahlsian expression, meaning playing with dangerous things. Juggling swords, I guess. “Laik Var vouched for you, and that’s why I’m willing to let your insubordination slip. But this is the last time. One more act like this and you will be disciplinarily discharged. Do you understand?”
I swallowed heavily. “Yes, kar-vessár.”
“Good. Raison Dal, you’re going to organize sanitation teams to confiscate all possible allergens in the camp. From everyone, not only our little rebel here.”
I flinched. Did he have to drag this out?
“I don’t give a shit about your delicate palate,” he looked at me pointedly and I did my best to escape his gaze, “this is a safety hazard and it has to be removed. From now on, the only food permitted within the camp are rations. If everything goes well, we’ll be home in a day and you’ll be able to indulge to your heart’s content without putting anyone at risk. Is that understood?”
“Yes, kar-vessár,” we answered in unison, though of everyone present, I’d be the only one affected by this decision. With two anaphylaxes happening within the last day, I didn’t blame them for extra caution. But no matter how hard I tried to convince myself
