6

There were only four chairs around the table in the house, so Dalibor stayed on the far side of the room while they discussed their next steps. He leaned against the frame of the open front door, splitting his attention between the conversation, the animals, and the tree line to make sure the Enforcers did not try to surprise them. Rasha didn't sit at first either, bustling about the room to gather place settings, food, and drinks for all of them. "You really don't need to," Laenas said.

"Nonsense!" Rasha said. "What kind of host would I be if I did not serve my guests their evening meal?"

"The kind that nearly got murdered by those guests not an hour ago," Dalibor said, staring out the door.

"But they did not murder us," said Rasha. "So I should thank them that they continue to not."

"We're not going to kill you. We're in as deep as you at this point," Laenas said. He pointed at Sabina. "I do need you to tell us exactly what your father said, though, because we're all fucked five ways to the forum, and it had better be for a good reason."

"The day I ran off, I had Dalibor accompany me to the back of the villa to eavesdrop on what my father was telling Gallius," she said. "Turns out he was telling Gallius how the Star cult in Cibalae was going to sacrifice me, and the lot of you might have to help carry my body into Sarmatia."

"That's grim," said Geminia.

Laenas gingerly massaged the black eye Lucilius had given him. "Yeah, I guess that counts as a good reason," he grumbled.

"See?" Rasha asked. He set out a tray of the bread Sabina had made that morning along with smoked chicken, dried figs, and another wheel of cheese before heading back for their wine. "It is good that we eat together. We are friends now. Or, rather, we must be friends now."

"Speaking of being friends," Laenas said, "could I have that purse you stole from me back please?"

"Your purse?" Sabina asked. "We spent that weeks ago."

Laenas cocked his head. "What do you mean you spent it?" he asked. "Like, spent it as in spent all of it?"

"Yes," said Dalibor. "Horses are expensive."

The striker's breath caught, and he put both his hands to his mouth. "That was my life savings," he whimpered.

"What?" Sabina asked. "Why were you just carrying that with you?"

"Where was I going to leave it?" Laenas asked, now shouting and gesticulating with his hands. "In the barracks? Somebody would have stolen it for sure! Thunder's stones! Did you really spend all of it?"

"Every last coin, yes," said Dalibor, and Laenas wailed. "You can have the horses if you want. We don't need them anymore, and you paid for them."

"He may not have Ebonmane!" Sabina insisted. "Give away your own horse if you feel guilty."

"I don't feel guilty," Dalibor said over Laenas's continued wails. "He tried to kill me. I just want him to stop screeching."

"I was going to buy a house!" Laenas yelled. "How did you spend all of it on two horses?"

"I overpaid to make sure the trader remembered us so she'd be able to tell you where we were headed," Dalibor said.

"Yeah, tell us wrong!" said Laenas. "We spent a week traipsing across northeastern Italia because you'd lied to her about where you were headed."

"Hush, Laenas," Musca said. "You can stay with me."

"I don't want to leech off of your family!" Laenas said, his hands still emphasizing every word. "I want my own place. And you'll never be able to afford a place of your own with how much you spend on your stupid collection."

Musca gasped. "My collection is not stupid," she said.

"What do you collect?" asked Rasha.

With a sigh and a dreamy look, Musca said, "Helmets."

"She doesn't even wear them," said Laenas. "They just take up every spare inch of the shack her family dumped her in."

"Of course I don't wear them. Look what happened to my shield," Musca said. "They might get hurt. I only wear the boring ones."

"That one's from your collection?" Sabina asked.

"It is," said Musca, picking her helmet up from where she'd placed it on the table. It looked like an upside-down bowl with wings. "This is a standard design. The cap and neck guard are a single piece, but the cheek guards are bolted on, see? This one is solid steel, but I have a few back home with bronze accents."

"You have more than a few back home," Laenas said.

"Do the two of you still plan to go home?" Dalibor asked. "Because I'd recommend against it."

Musca gripped the helmet tight enough that her knuckles turned white, and Laenas glared into the fire. Rasha huffed as he poured the wine but said nothing. So Sabina did. "That was rude."

"We were going to discuss our next steps," Dalibor said. He leaned against the inside wall of the house so he could see all of them. "And forgive me if I'm more than a little irritated, because as the Verdant warlord here, I know I'm going to be the one who has to figure that out. So I went ahead and ran through the projections I could come up with, and I hate them. I hate them so much. I'm so sorry, Papa." The jackal stared up at the ceiling and struggled to hold back tears. Rasha set down the wine bottle and shuffled over to Dalibor's side. He wrapped the jackal in his arms and held his son tight. Dalibor seemed so much smaller next to the oversized bear. From within the embrace, Sabina could hear Dalibor lose his fight against the tears, and she grew frightened in a way she hadn't felt since the day they'd met, when she realized that the Enforcers were going to come for them. Seeing the terrifyingly competent warlord shatter in front of her was terrifying in its own way. "I'm sorry, Papa. We were doing so well, and I screwed it all up again. We were safe, but now they're coming again, and they're going to kill me, and they're going to kill you, and it's all my fault again. Why does this keep happening to me? Why do I deserve this? Why do you deserve this? What did I do wrong?"

"Hush, my son," Rasha said, stroking the back of the jackal's head. "You did nothing wrong. Well, this time." Dalibor choked on a chuckle between his sobs at that. "You wanted to help. You always want to help because you know how easy it is to kill. And I love you for it, my son. I will always love you. I promised you that I would never let them take you, and I never will, no matter who they are." He sighed deeply. "It does mean we have to sell the ranch, though."

"What?" Sabina asked when Dalibor began to weep even louder. "Why?"

"It doesn't take a warlord to figure that one out," Laenas said. "The Enforcers failed. Maybe for the first time ever. But that they failed doesn't mean that your father's going to just give up. If the Enforcers can't get him what he wants, he's going to send the Legion. Or a century at minimum. They're going to burn this place to the ground and kill anybody they find. Except you, of course. Well, maybe, I guess. Depends on how particular the emperor is about who kills you and where."

Sabina gaped at Rasha and Dalibor. Dalibor wept openly in the big bear's arms, and Rasha's own dark eyes looked more than a little misty. "This is my fault," she said. "I destroyed your entire life."

"It is your father's fault," Musca said, taking her by the hand.

"It doesn't matter whose fault it is," Dalibor said. He pulled himself out of Rasha's embrace and wiped his eyes. He tried to steady his breathing but was only partly successful. "All that matters is that it is, and that we have to deal with it. Time is on our side this time, thankfully. It will take at least a week to get word back to New Rome, and much longer than that to mobilize a century, much less the Legion."

"So tonight we have time to celebrate our victory over the invisible Emperor's Six, yes?" Rasha asked.

"Invincible," Dalibor corrected. "And no, Papa. Let's hash this out tonight like we planned. Then we can all get very drunk."

Rasha laughed. "I will break out the firewater again!" he said. He hurried over to the cupboard.

"Maybe just a few extra bottles of wine?" Dalibor said, rubbing his eyes.

"What's firewater?" Musca asked.

"Fire that you can drink," Sabina said. "Water that burns."

"Tell me more," said Laenas.

"It is as she says," Rasha said. "It is very alcohol, and it is delicious."

"It tastes like fire," said Sabina.

"I want to try it," Musca said.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"I'll stick with wine, thanks," Sabina said.

"Just one, princess? To celebrate! For me?" Rasha asked, bringing an armful of extra glasses to the table.

Sabina sighed. "Just one," she agreed.

Even Dalibor joined in the first shot, but Sabina and the jackal both stopped after that. Musca and Laenas both approved of the firewater, but Dalibor refused to let anybody have more than two shots before they had talked about what they were going to do. So they spent the rest of the meal talking and planning and laughing together as the alcohol began to relax them all. Dalibor and Rasha would begin liquidating the ranch, finding buyers for the livestock, the stock of goods, the tools, and finally the land. Laenas and Musca would scout the surrounding mountains and villages, keeping an eye out for trouble and an ear out for news. And Sabina…

"I don't want to just be stuck in the house all day while everybody else has important things to do!" she insisted. "It's like being back home all over again. I'm free now! I want to actually do something for myself."

"I get that, I really do," Laenas said. "But your bread is really good."

"He's right," Dalibor added. He tore another hunk of bread off the loaf. Rasha had made the jackal take his seat at the table and had dragged a sofa over for himself. "If things had gone differently, I'd have suggested you work with us to add baked goods to the other food we sell."

Rasha laughed from where he reclined beside them. "Always looking for new ventures," he said. "Can you not shut off that warlord brain of yours for even one night?"

"Besides," Sabina added. "Isn't looking for new markets how you ended up in this mess in the first place?"

Dalibor grimaced, and his crooked fang caught his lip. To Sabina's delight, he was too buzzed to notice. "Yeah, you might be right," he said. He swirled his wine glass for a moment. The entire table watched him think, munching on their own food. Sabina felt like she could almost see the thoughts trying to slosh through his sodden mind. It seemed like it was taking him longer to think than it normally did. "How well do you know the world?" he asked eventually.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Like, geography," he clarified. "Where everything is. What the world looks like. We could use a good map."

"I had some lessons about the Empire," she said. "I listened in when my father and his advisors were talking about relations with the various provinces or allied nations. But I don't know that I'd trust anything they told me. I feel like I've learned more about the world in the past few weeks than I did my entire life in New Rome, and a lot of the things they did teach me have turned out to be wrong. I can just imagine my father seeing me here now. He'd have a fit knowing I was keeping company with a Sabwa and an Urs. I think the only thing he hated more than beast people was wolves."

Dalibor's ears flicked. "Did you just call us beast people?" he asked.

"What's your father's problem with wolves?" Laenas asked. "The farmers know how to take care of themselves."

"That's exactly what I said!" Sabina said, tossing up her hands. "But no, he's apparently got entire campaigns running to cull the wolf population. Especially out in Illyricum."

"Illyricum?" Dalibor asked. He leaned forward across the table. "Isn't that where he was going to send you?"

"Cibalae is in Illyricum, yes," Sabina said. "That's why he was sending the Enforcers with me. He said it wasn't safe."

Dalibor leaned back again. He tapped his fingers against the table, and his tail swished lazily behind him. "I don't like that look," Laenas said, and Dalibor reflexively fixed his stuck lip. "You look exactly like Gallius did when he was about to tell us something we didn't want to hear. And seeing that same look on a jackal is really unsettling."

Dalibor snickered. "I don't think making this face is actually part of the Verdant Blade's training," he said. "And I don't know why you wouldn't want to hear it. It's not like it's bad news."

"So what are you going to tell us?" Laenas asked.

"We're going to go hide out in Illyricum for a while," Dalibor said.

"How is that not bad news?" Laenas asked.

"Isn't Illyricum exactly where we shouldn't go?" Sabina asked. "It's still part of the Empire, and that's where my father was trying to send me to die."

"Exactly," Dalibor said. "So he won't think to look in Cibalae."

"Cibalae is fun city," Rasha said. His Ursi accent was much stronger now that he was drunk. He lay on his side on the sofa, gesturing with his wine glass. "Very rough. Very wild. Easy to find fights. I won there several wrestling tournaments."

"And it won't be permanent," Dalibor said. "You're right that it is part of the Empire, after all. But we'll be able to hide easier now that people aren't just looking for a single Sabwan man traveling with a Homin woman."

"Rumor is that Cibalae's very mixed for an Imperial city, too," Laenas said. "Though Massilia was surprisingly diverse for how close it is to Italia."

"Rumors are true," Rasha said. "My last visit was more than decade ago, but there were many bears from Sarmatia and deer from Phrygia. Cibalae is on north coast, so many sharks from Sunken Lands too. Some jackals, but more jackals south in Byzantium."

"That's it then," Dalibor said. "That's the plan. Sell everything here, pack up everything we can carry, disappear into the Sunken Sentinels for a while, and reappear in Cibalae, disguised and unrecognizable. That's as good as I can do on short notice when I'm quite this drunk."

"Honestly, that's a decent plan," Laenas said. "I don't like it, but it's a good plan. And some of the money from selling everything better go towards repaying me."

"We have plan!" Rasha cheered. "So now we drink!"

"We have been drinking," Dalibor said.

"I could stand another round or two of that firewater," Laenas said.

Dalibor and Sabina excused themselves as the other three poured themselves another round of shots. Dalibor led her upstairs to his bedroom, where she had been sleeping—alone—since the second night. She walked in, but Dalibor paused at the door. She turned to look at him, but he stared at the floor. "I'm sorry," he said.

She frowned. "For what?"

"I told you I would keep you safe," he said. "And we are very much not safe."

"I'm still alive, aren't I?" she asked. She returned to the door and took the jackal by the hand. "I know I wouldn't be if I hadn't met you."

Dalibor looked at their joined hands. "I guess," he said. "But you deserve better than a life on the run, Sara. You deserve to be able to use your own name." He laughed without mirth. "Gods, you're just like me when I was your age."

"How old are you?" Sabina asked.

"Twenty-nine," he said, still staring at their joined hands. "My birthday is during the Vestalia."

"But the Vestalia was the week after we left New Rome," Sabina said. "Did you miss your birthday because of me? Dalibor! We need to make an offering before it's too late!"

"It's fine," he said. "Definitely not the worst thing that's happened this month. It also means I'm still not as old as Papa was when he was keeping me safe while we… were running from what I did. He still knows so much more of the world than I do. Maybe he should have been the one who found you. Be the one you hide away with. He'll keep you safer than I can."

Sabina clapped her other hand around his and squeezed it tight. "You're the one I want to be with, Dalibor," she said.

Still he did not meet her gaze. "I don't understand why," he said.

"You don't have to," Sabina said.

He chuckled, but it was sad. "That's not how my mind works, Sara," he said. "I have to know." Then he took a deep breath and pulled his hand away from hers. "Get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

"You can sleep in your own room, Dalibor," she said.

"No. It's your room for now," he said. Then he chuckled mirthlessly again. "For good, I guess. It won't be any of ours much longer."

She watched him trudge over to Rasha's bedroom and close the door behind him. Laughter roared from below. She had hoped, at least a little, that the alcohol would make it easier to get him to spend the night near her. Not even in bed with her. Just in the same room. She hadn't anticipated how much she would miss having him close at hand while she slept. Sure, he was just in the room across the hall, but he may as well have been back in New Rome. It had been comforting, when she would wake in the middle of the night during their weeks on the run, to be able to hear him breathing just outside the tent or yipping in his sleep on the next mossy rock over. She debated walking across the hall, knocking on Rasha's door, and telling the jackal all of that, but she did not. She couldn't bear to hear no again so soon.

He came to her anyway when she awoke, drenched in sweat with her heart racing, in the middle of the night. The only part of her dream that she remembered clearly was the golden glow that seemed to suffuse everything and everyone that she had been shown. The same glow that even now radiated faintly through her tunic. She could barely remember the man who looked suspiciously like her own father must have looked twenty years ago. She knew the man she couldn't remember was holding his infant daughter, but she knew that it was not her. She reached for any other vestige of what had woken her, and the dream, as dreams so often did, shredded and faded to nothing beneath her grasp, leaving only the sorrow and revulsion it had brought with it. Soon, as her heart rate and her breathing slowed, the light within her faded away, taking the last traces of the dream with it.

"Sara?" asked Dalibor quietly from outside the room. He knocked gently on the door. "Are you okay? I thought I heard you cry out."

"I'm fine," she answered. "Just a bad dream."

"Is she awake?" came Rasha's drowsy voice.

"Papa!" Dalibor said sharply. "Go put your subligar on!" Rasha grumbled a reply in Ursi, and Sabina heard the bear shuffle away. She giggled. "May I come in?" Dalibor asked.

"Are you decent?" she asked back, still giggling.

Dalibor sighed. "I'm sorry about him," he said. "He's pretty drunk still. But I have my subligar on. I can go grab a tunic if you want."

Her real heart skipped a beat. It had been far too long since she'd had the opportunity to see him in his underwear. "No, it's fine," she said. "You can come in."

The door opened just a crack, and the light from the hearth below spilled into the room. The tip of Dalibor's muzzle peeked in with it. "Um…" he said. "You're decent too, right?" he asked.

"Yes, Dalibor," she told him. "It's safe." Dalibor opened the door the rest of the way and scanned the room, looking for any sign of trouble. The shadowed silhouette of his bare form looked almost human in the dark. Except the head and tail, of course. "I told you, it was just a dream. Nothing to worry about."

"You say that," he said. "But it was worrying when you cried out like that."

"Did I?" Sabina asked.

"You did," Rasha said, stepping into the doorframe and leaning against it. He'd decided to toss on a tunic rather than try to tie on his subligar.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't realize."

"Do you remember anything of the nightmare?" the big bear asked. His Ursi accent had faded, but his words were all very carefully enunciated, as if he were worried they would get away from him.

Sabina frowned and shook her head. "I don't know that it was a nightmare," she said. "It didn't feel like a nightmare. But I think my father was there, holding some other baby girl. And there was blood, maybe?" She shook her head again. "Whatever it was, it's gone."

"Well, that is good," Rasha said with a yawn. He had a distressing number of very large, very sharp teeth in his short muzzle. They glinted in the hearthlight from below. "You can get back to sleep?"

"I think so, yes," Sabina said. "Thank you."

"You feel safe enough alone?" Dalibor asked.

"I…" Sabina's heart caught in her throat and choked out her voice. She cleared her throat. He was offering to keep watch in her room, that was all. To help her feel safe in case more bad dreams disturbed her. Nothing more than that. "Thank you, Dalibor. I'll be fine." She cursed herself inside her head, since he was offering her the exact thing she wanted, but this was not how she wanted to get it. She did not want him staying near her only because he thought she was weak, and so she would send him away. Because she was stupid like that.

"Alright," said Dalibor, his voice uncertain. "If you're sure. But if you need anything, we'll be right outside."

"You can be right outside," Rasha said, yawning once more. Seeing his teeth again caused Sabina's breath to catch. "I'm going back to bed. And you should get some sleep too, Dalya. I expect tomorrow to be busy."

"Right," Dalibor said. He glanced around the room once more then walked back to the door. "Good night, Sara."

"Good night, Dalibor."

Dalibor closed the door behind him, and Sabina heard Rasha walk away. Dalibor she heard slump down and lean against her door. She stared at the door for a long moment, trying to hear the jackal on the other side. Then, as quietly and as carefully as she could, she wrapped herself in the bed's blanket, grabbed the pillow, and crept across the floor. There she settled down to rest, and, sure enough, she could hear the steady in and out of Dalibor's breathing through the gap under the door. With a sigh, she reached once more for the dream that had yanked her from sleep, apparently with a scream, but it was gone. She stared at the blank ceiling, listening to Dalibor, until the sound of his breath and the knowledge of his nearness finally carried her again to sleep.