hot springs. Two hundred men had lost their lives in that debacle.
Remembering, Trent shuddered. Being parboiled alive like that, like a lobster. Ugh.
And he could have easily been caught in there himself. A miracle he hadn't. What would Sheila have-?
He chuckled. He must really love that woman. Yes, he did. He must get back to her. Her red hair was so lovely, her skin so fair, freckled here and there. Breasts large and full for such a slim woman…
'Trent?'
'Huh?' Telamon was standing in front of him. 'Must have dozed off…'
'Sorry to wake you.'
Trent sat up, feeling tired and logy. 'Think nothing of it. Something up?'
'Not really. But I wanted you to know that I talked the king out of arresting you again.'
Trent chuckled. 'Kind of you. Why did you do it? Some wine?'
'No, thank you.'
'Uh, pull up something and sit.'
'Thank you very much.'
Telamon piled some sheepskins together and sat crosslegged.
He said, 'Why did I do it? Because I rather admire you. Like you, even.'
'Same here.' Trent took a swig of wine. 'What was eating Anthaemion this time?'
'Nothing especially. He wants scapegoats and thinks your beard the longest.'
Trent looked around. 'You'd best guard your tongue, my friend.'
'There is no one about, and you will not repeat my words.'
'No. I won't. Go on.'
Telamon shrugged. 'There is no more. Eventually he will have you killed, or kill you himself. But he is afraid of you. You are a sorcerer. He keeps repeating rumors about you.'
'Rumors? What rumors?'
'Those that circulate among the troops. One of them has it that you change yourself into an animal at night and prowl. One story says that you change yourself into a great bat and devour people.'
Trent laughed. 'I don't have the right accent.'
'Can you do it?' Telamon asked.
'Do what?'
'Change yourself into an animal.'
Trent snorted. 'Any sorcerer worth his salt can do an animal tranformation. Not that I do that traditional stuff much. When I was a kid I once changed myself into an eagle. I soared. Soared. Kind of liked that.' Trent was silent a moment, staring off, remembering. Then he looked at his visitor. 'Anthaemion still expects me to win this war for him, doesn't he?'
'Yes, I am afraid so.'
'Well, I can't.'
'He thinks you are in fact against him.'
'Yeah, he would think that.'
'Are you?'
Trent smiled. 'Are you sure you won't repeat my words?'
Telamon was disappointed. 'I had numbered myself among your confidants. It seems I was presuming.'
'Not at all. You want to know my opinion of Anthaemion? He's a major asshole.'
Telamon could not suppress a smile.
'And I'll give you another opinion. I'm sick of this pack of morons you call an army. Thugs, every one of them. Pirates. I've seen biker gangs with more redeeming virtues.'
'I'm sorry-?'
'Swaggering bullies. And as to their military prowess, none of them knows the first thing about discipline, about following orders. They are little better than a rabble, no matter how they strut and brag.' Trent snorted. 'Heroes. These jerks wouldn't know heroism if it came up and bit 'em on the backside.'
Telamon brooded a moment before admitting, 'I am afraid there is something in what you say.'
'You bet your ass. Sorry, I'm not blaming you or including you in my sweeping generalizations. You're a man of some breeding and you have a head on your shoulders.'
Telamon bent his head. 'My humble thanks.'
'But the rest…' Trent shook his head. He reached, rummaged among some debris, and finally came up with a wooden cup. He poured wine into it and let the skin drop. He drank.
'But we cannot stay here forever,' Telamon said.
'I'd quit the whole business if I could,' Trent said. 'But, although I'm a potential deserter, I'm no traitor. When I sign on with an outfit, my loyalty is part of the bargain.'
'I have assured the king of that very fact.'
'It's true. I also gave my word to my brother. My word, the word of a prince, counts for something, you know. I take that stuff seriously.'
Telamon's face registered momentary shock. Then he quickly rose and bowed solemnly.
Puzzled, Trent asked, 'What's up?'
'I ask your forgiveness for sitting in your presence. I was not aware-'
'Oh, that. Sit down, pal. Here, I'm a courtier, and one out of favor. In my world, it's different.'
'In your-? I do not understand.'
'Sit down, please.'
Reluctantly, Telamon reseated himself.
Trent went on. 'It's hard to explain, but we-my brother and I-are from a place so far away that it's hard not to call it a different world altogether. Unimaginably far away.'
'I see.'
'In fact, it's… Forget it, we'll leave it at that.'
'Your magic must be godlike.'
'Well, shit.' Trent took another swallow of wine. 'It can be. If I put my mind to it I could… Ahhh, fuck the whole business.'
'Sweet wine can make one bitter,' Telamon said.
'I'm not bitter, I'm ticked off. At my brother, mainly. For stranding me here.'
'One can imagine.'
'So, it's up to me to find a way out of this mess.' Trent poured himself more fortitude, sampled it. Then he looked at Telamon. 'Have any ideas?'
'The glimmerings of one.'
'Spill it. I'm fresh out of glimmerings.'
Telamon brooded at some length, then said, 'If we could employ stealth instead of brute force, perhaps…'
'Out with it. I'm all for stealth at this point.'
'I had a dream the other night. I dreamt of a great horse-'
Trent looked pained. 'Oh, no.' Telamon frowned.
Trent said, 'Does this idea of yours have something to do with hiding some guys inside a big wooden horse?'
Telamon was astounded. Awed as well, he shook his head. 'Is there no hiding even dreams from a sorcerer?'
Trent grinned. 'Sorry, it's not that I'm peeking into your noggin, it's just-never mind. No, the horse thing is silly. Forgive me, but do you really think the Troadeans are dumb enough to fall for something like that? They'd build a fire under the thing first to see if anyone yelped. I'd drill a few holes and run a spear or two through. First thing I'd think of, once I saw that the enemy had pulled up stakes and vamoosed, leaving this huge fucking statue of a horse. Wouldn't you?'
Telamon laughed. He nodded. 'I suppose I would.'
'Oh, there's a chance, I suppose.' Trent drank again. 'No, I take that back. That scheme has about as much chance as a fart in a-'
