Traitor's Moon

15 DISCOMFORT

Where's Thero?" Alec wondered aloud as they set off for a banquet in Bry'kha tupa that evening. "Gone to visit the rhui'auros," Klia told him. "I'd expected him back by now."

The rain had slacked off to a warm, sullen drizzle. Everyone rode with hoods pulled up, in little clumps behind Klia and Torsin. Alec and Seregil brought up the rear, the closest semblance of privacy they'd had all day. Seizing the opportunity, Alec confided his encounter with Beka and Nyal in the Haunted City.

Seregil took the news more calmly than he'd expected. "According to Thero, Queen Idrilain herself encourages such unions as part of the mission," he said quietly.

Alec glanced around at their Urgazhi escort. "What? Marrying her soldiers off to Aurenfaie?"

Seregil smirked. "I don't think marriage is a priority, but one of the goals of our current mission is to get a healthy infusion of Aurenfaie blood to renew that stock."

"Yes, but—! You mean she hoped Beka and her female riders would come home pregnant?" Alec exclaimed. "I thought they got drummed out for that?"

"The rules have been relaxed for the time being. No one is talking openly about it, but

Thero heard rumors that a bounty has even been offered. I suppose the men are free to bring home any Aurenfaie bride who'll have them, too."

"Bilairy's Balls, Seregil, that's coldhearted, turning the best turma in Skala into breeding stock!"

"When it comes to the survival of a nation, there's not much that's considered beyond the pale. It's not even that unusual. Remember my sojourn among the Dravnians? I kept up my duties as guest, so to speak. Who knows how many of my own offspring are toddling around somewhere up in the Asheks as we speak?"

Alec raised an eyebrow at this. "You're joking."

"I'm not. As for our current situation, it's all for the greater glory of Skala, which makes it honorable enough. How patriotic are you feeling these days?"

Alec ignored the jibe, but found himself watching the Urgazhi more closely during the banquet that followed.

Seregil was eating breakfast with Klia and Torsin in the hall early the next morning when Thero came shuffling in. His face was grey and he held himself as if his insides were made of glass and poorly packed.

"By the Light!" Torsin exclaimed. "My dear Thero, shall I send for a healer?"

"I'm fine, my lord, just a bit under the weather," Thero replied, coming to a halt behind an empty chair and grasping the back of it.

"You're not fine," Klia retorted, turning to look at him.

"It could be river fever," Seregil offered, suspecting it was no such thing. "I'll send for Mydri."

"No!" Thero said quickly. "No, that's not necessary. It's just a slight distemper. It will pass."

"Nonsense. Take him back to his room, Seregil," Klia ordered.

Thero's skin felt hot and clammy, and he leaned heavily on Seregil's arm as he limped back upstairs. Reaching his room, he laid down but refused to undress.

Seregil stood over him, frowning. "So, what happened?"

Thero closed his eyes and ran a hand over his unshaven cheek. "A dragon bit me."

"Bilairy's Balls, Thero! Where in Sarikali did you find one big enough to make you this sick?"

The wizard managed a sickly smile. "Where do you think?"

"Ah, of course. You'd better let me have a look."

"I've used lissik on it already."

"Lissik won't do for large bites. Come on now, where is it? Arm? Leg?"

With a sigh, Thero pulled up the front of his robe.

Seregil's eyes widened. "You said Alec's ear looked like a grape when he got bitten by that little one. This looks more like—"

"I know what it looks like!" Thero snarled, covering himself.

"This needs attention. I'll get something from Mydri. No one has to know the details."

"Thank you," Thero rasped, staring up at the ceiling.

Seregil shook his head. "You know, I've never heard of anyone getting bitten on the—"

"It was an accident. Just go!" Thero pleaded.

An accident? Seregil thought, hurrying next door. Not if the rhui'auros had anything to do with it.

To his considerable relief, Mydri asked few questions. He described the injury in general terms, and she mixed several infusions and a bowl of poultice. Eyeing the latter, Seregil hoped Thero was up to treating himself.