Parting Ways

The next day, soon after they received breakfast, the door to their little dwelling opened again. Shadi stood outside, and she stepped back to let them join her in the sunlight. "I have been allowed to say goodbye." She had a cloak around her shoulders.

"You're leaving already?" Martel could not hide the disappointment in his voice.

"My task was brief, and it is done. I have to return." She gave a smile tinged with sadness.

"Did the commander tell you his thoughts?" Eleanor asked.

"He didn't. I'm sorry, I don't know what he intends. But you'll know soon, I'm sure." Shadi looked at each of them. "I'm glad I met you again, despite the strange circumstances. I hope you'll both be well." She gave Eleanor an embrace, slightly stiff, and another to Martel. "Stay alert," she whispered into his ear. As she pulled back, she had a smile on her face. "Goodbye to you both." Without further exchange, she turned and walked away.

"Did she say something to you?" Eleanor asked, quietly.

"A warning," he mumbled. "To be careful, I guess."

"Prefects?" Azar's adjutant approached them. "The commander wishes to see you."

***

As they entered his tent, they found Azar in his small chair behind his table rather than the more comfortable furniture. In front of him lay a document. Martel could not read it, as it faced the wrong way, but he recognised the letters as Asterian.

Azar rose up, seeing them. "I have decided to offer you the friendship of the Third Army of Khiva, acting on behalf of the shah and with his authority."

"We are grateful," Eleanor replied, inclining her head; Martel did the same.

"I have written, signed, and sealed a document outlining our intention to make peace with the Tenth Legion and all its supporters, as long as we are not attacked first. Once you return to Esmouth, you may tell them they shall suffer no danger from the east. It is my hope this armistice may turn into lasting peace."

"We hope the same," she replied.

"I do have one condition before you may leave with this document."

"Name it."

The commander looked at each of them. "You leave, Sir Fontaine. You stay, Sir Martel, until it is done."

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Martel's entire face became twisted. "That's ridiculous!"

"Unexpected," Eleanor corrected him. "May we ask the reason for this?"

"News of this is already headed towards Itchan Kala. Once it reaches my cousin's court, some will argue that allowing two Asterian mages to leave my camp is tantamount to treason."

"You gave us your word," Martel spoke through gritted teeth.

"And I will not break it!" Azar replied forcefully. "But letting you both leave with a declaration of peace is a risk that can cost me my position and my head. If you fail, I will be humiliated and accused of incompetence at best, collaboration with the enemy at worst."

"How does me staying here help any of that?"

"I can argue that I kept a hostage rather than risk you both in the same move."

A disdainful expression ran across Martel's face. "To be expected."

"You chose to come to my camp," Azar reminded him. "If such political considerations disgust you, you should have stayed in the woods."

"We understand," Eleanor declared, ignoring Martel's disturbed look sent her way. "I will go. I will convince the Tenth to accept the armistice. And I will return for Sir Martel, bringing peace with me."

"It should be me who goes," Martel argued. "I'm the Firebrand. I can convince them more easily. It was me they wanted to send to my death. This was all my idea." Most importantly, however absurd it felt, the one staying in the Khivan camp would be safer. If this failed, they might become a prisoner, but whoever went to Esmouth was certain to be executed.

"It has to be Sir Fontaine," Azar said flatly. "She is a patrician and worthy to bear a message from the shah."

Martel could not hide the disgust on his face, nor did he try.

"Furthermore, allowing a mageknight to leave is already a risk. Allowing a battlemage to leave, one who has caused us such losses…" The commander shook his head. "I can only defend that decision if it proved worthwhile. Such as an armistice being reached."

"We understand. Will you give us a moment to bid each other farewell? I shall be ready to leave immediately after," Eleanor promised.

"By all means. You may have my tent." Azar stepped outside, and Martel held his tongue until they were alone.

"You can't do this," he said insistently. "We shouldn't split up."

"No, but we have to. It always seemed dubious they would simply let us wander off."

"If you thought so, why did you agree to come here?"

She attempted a smile. "What better choice did we have? At least we have a chance. I shall convince the legion to cease fighting. The pledge from the Khivans make this a legitimate attempt."

"This was my idea," Martel mumbled. "It should be me taking the risk."

"As your protector, I must always protest at such a statement." She touched his cheek before embracing him tightly. "I will be back."

"You better." A lump in Martel's throat made it hard for him to say more, so he simply squeezed her slender frame, feeling clumsy and, worst of all, powerless.

They walked outside, where Azar stood, pointedly looking away from the tent. "I am ready, commander," Eleanor declared.

"Excellent. My men will guide you on the swiftest path to your camp, avoiding patrols. Probably best you do not give them time to realise you are coming," he considered. "Your strategy relies on shock and heightened emotions."

"It does. Thank you again, commander." Eleanor gave a small bow. An adjutant appeared from the tent, carrying a scroll case, which he handed over to her.

"My declaration of peace," Azar said. "You carry our fate in your hands."

"I will not fail," she promised. She gave Martel a final look. "I will see you soon." A band of scouts stood nearby, waiting impatiently with crossed arms and dubious looks sent at the Asterian; bowing her head, Eleanor left the commander and the battlemage to join them, and the small group set out.