Chapter 640: What the Future Promises

Chapter 640: What the Future Promises

What the Future Promises

Watching the Asterian rider approach in the company of a Khivan patrol, Martel wanted to leap over the battlements and sprint towards them, shouting questions. But he restrained himself, given his surroundings. Matters were already tense between him and his host; it seemed best to appear calm and in control of his emotions.

The Asterian rider carried a banner in his hand, showing an eagle on green as a sign of peaceful intentions. The commander met him in the same place where Martel and Eleanor had been brought, an open square in the camp. Unlike the previous meeting, no cannons or rows of musketmen were lined up, ready to fire.

Martel stood next to Azar, clenching his jaw at how unbearably slow everything progressed. The rider dismounted; Martel noticed that his rank was that of an optio. One of the Khivan scouts spoke in his own language, presumably introducing the Asterian emissary, after which Azar addressed him in that tongue. "We welcome you in peace. You bring word from the Tenth Legion?"

The optio saluted. "I do, sir. The prefects of the Tenth Legion greet you with news that an armistice has been agreed." He took out a scroll case. "I carry with me a declaration same as the one you sent us, signed by Sir Lara, legion prefect and acting legate." He handed over the document to an adjutant.

"Where is Sir Fontaine?" Martel asked, his patience at an end. "Why is she not the bearer of this message?"

"A reasonable question," the commander assented.

"The change of leadership in the legion demands her presence to sort things out," the optio replied.Upstodatee from n(0)/ve/lbIn/.(co/m

Martel narrowed his eyes. He finally recognised the soldier. It was the same optio who had slandered Martel, challenged him, and spent a night in the stockade as a result. And now he came to lead Martel away from the encampment, into the wild? This reeked of deception. He stalked up to the emissary. "You lie," he sneered. "Why is she not here?"

The optio swallowed. "Sir, she expected you would wonder at her absence. She told me to repeat the words 'wild garlic' and 'thyme' to you, sir."

Clouded by anger, Martel did not understand at first; it sounded like nonsense. But the words evoked the memory. Foraging in the forest. Cooking and seasoning the meat that she brought home. A memory that no others would know. "Alright," Martel mumbled, and the optio looked visibly relieved.

"Sir Martel?" the commander said questioningly.

The battlemage turned around. "It's fine. He speaks the truth. You have your armistice."

Subtlety might be the best approach, but Martel could not think of a way to make the optio inadvertently admit to plans of assassinating him. And in general, the battlemage's patience ran low these days.

"Petrus of Aquila," he spoke as they rode side by side.

"Aye, sir. I can't say I'm honoured you remember, as I know it's not for good reason," the optio admitted.

"Why is it that out of an entire legion, you're sent as the envoy? Will you claim that to be coincidence?"

"Not at all, sir, I volunteered."

Martel glanced at him with surprise. "Why?"

"Well, sir, I felt ashamed. I'm in the sixth cohort, as I'm sure you remember. You're in this mess because you stopped the decurion and saved us all," Petrus explained. "And during the retreat through the woods, you and Sir Fontaine, you held the rear. Every day till the last." His voice trembled. "I'm so ashamed. I slandered your good name, yet you saved us."

The outburst of emotion made Martel feel awkward. "Alright, no harm done. You can buy me a round at The Salty Mug," he muttered, hoping to steer the conversation away.

"I don’t imagine you'll ever pay for your drink again if a soldier of the Tenth is near," Petrus replied. "The whole legion praises your name."

"Uh, I guess that's good."

"Do you mind if I set the course, sir? I know the route, after all."

"Sure, you lead." They continued in silence, and Martel was simply glad the conversation was at an end; the optio did not seem to have murderous intentions after all. Still, as they made camp that night, Martel placed his runes of warning to surround himself rather than the camp site as a whole.