Page 204 of Of Empires and Dust

“Enough.” Vaeril had never seen Tarmon angry, truly angry. Until now. Perhaps to others there was little more than a stiffness in his voice. But Vaeril had grown to know the man. He could see the twitch in Tarmon’s jaw, his pale knuckles as he squeezed his cup, and the way he refused to look at Thurivîr. Tarmon glanced at Queen Tessara. “We cannot spare the time nor the lives to break Camylin’s siege. We do not know how long Salme’s defences will hold, and Salme is our priority.” Hepondered for a moment, his jaw relaxing, the anger seeming to fade. “We are now in possession of some four hundred horses, with no small thanks to Commander Pimm. I will arrange for outriders to harass the Urak lines as we pass. A hundred well organised riders can cause havoc and may just buy Camylin the time it needs. Once Salme is safe and Calen has rejoined us, we can reassess. I do not wish to leave the men and women in that city to die, but war is nothing more than a series of impossible choices, and we do what we must.”

Tarmon drew a long, deep breath, then pulled himself to his feet. He gestured to Vaeril and the others before bowing slightly in Tessara’s direction. “We thank you for the food, and the wine, and the conversation. But it is late and we have many injured, and we rise with the sun. I fear sleep calls us.”

The queen bowed her head in return, then gestured to Dumelian. “We have Healers we can spare. Please show Dumelian to your wounded. He will make the arrangements.”

There seemed to be a hint of satisfaction in her voice. Vaeril was still learning the subtleties of his new queen, but she appeared to favour a direct approach.

“Du haryn myia vrai, Inari.”

You have my thanks, Queen.

Vaeril smiled as the words left Tarmon’s lips. As soon as the army had left Aravell, Tarmon had asked Vaeril to school him in the Old Tongue. It didn’t come as naturally to the man as it did to Calen, but Tarmon had practiced night and day since they’d set out, and his pronunciation had improved tenfold. The man’s determination was admirable.

“Din vrai é atuya sin’vala, Harindavír. Ata’é din ordis.”

Your thanks are welcome here, High Commander. As are your words.

Vaeril’s smile widened further at the queen’s response. Not because her words brought him joy, but because he knewTarmon didn’t understand most of them judging by the falter in his stare.

The man inclined his head in response, then made to leave, but stopped. He looked back for half a second as though pondering something, then turned, his stare falling on Thurivîr.

The Ephorí raised an amused eyebrow, his lips still curled in a laugh.

“Our cultures are different, Thurivîr. I respect that.” He walked slowly past the fire until he reached Thurivîr, coming to a halt barely a foot away. The seated elf had to crane his neck to look up at Tarmon’s looming bulk. “But I need you to understand something. Where I was born, we do not talk in twisted riddles and half-truths, not to those we would call friend. We talk plainly and simply. If you have a problem, you say it outright. You don’t cover it in sugar and lace it with venom.”

He tilted his head to the side, then dropped to his haunches before the Ephorí. Thurivîr’s guards shifted, but the elf gestured them back.

Tarmon glanced at each guard in turn, then looked back to Thurivîr and held his stare for a long moment. At last, he drew in a breath through his nose and exhaled slowly. “So let me speak simple and plain. If you dare mock one of my commanders like that again, disrespect them in any way, I will stick my boot so far up your arse we will see if your shit is as gold as your shirt.”

“So, is sleep truly calling us?”The silence as they’d walked through the camp had driven Dann insane. Thoughts were not things to be left alone with. They were dangerous little bastards that deserved all the caution in the world.

“No.” Tarmon shook his head but didn’t stop. “We’re going to get piss drunk and pass out under the stars.”

“Tarmon Hoard, why do you always say such beautiful things?”

Tarmon only grunted in response.

Erik grabbed Dann by the shoulder. He shook his head in disbelief as though staring at a three-headed goat. “What is wrong with you?”

“How long do you have? My father always said it was easier to say what wasn’t wrong with me. I think I hit my head when I was a baby. That or my mam dropped me.”

“Stop. Stop fucking around. This isn’t the time for it, Dann. We’re at war. We’ve lost hundreds just in the days it’s taken us to get this far. Can you comprehend that? People in this army have lost friends, brothers, sisters. And you prance around acting like the world is nothing but sunshine and flowers.”

“Which is why it’spreciselythe time for it.” The others had stopped and were now watching, along with a number of guards wearing Calen’s sigil. Tarmon motioned them on. “What’s wrong, Erik? What did I do to make you this angry?”

“No…” Erik glanced at his hand, realising how tightly he had been gripping Dann’s shoulder. Releasing him, Erik stepped back and ran his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry… I’m not angry atyou.I just… How are you not furious? How can you make light ofeverything,allthe time? We all saw what Thurivîr was doing. Poking you, prodding you, mocking you.”

Dann shrugged. “True. But I think Tarmon dealt with that, did he not? ‘We will see if your shit is as gold as your shirt.’ Gods, I wish it was me who’d said that. That was beautiful. The man is a mountain with a poet’s heart.”

“Dann.” Erik twisted his tongue in his mouth, the frustration visible on his face.

Dann let out a sigh, staring off at a row of tents to his right, torch flames blowing in the wind. “What good would it have done to be furious, Erik? Thurivîrwantedme to get angry. He wanted me to lose my senses so he could mock me even more. So he could laugh at the ‘emotional human’. At the young man who doesn’t deserve his place. Why? I don’t know, for his own amusement perhaps. Elves think they speak in riddles, but they overestimate themselves.” Dann gestured to Vaeril, who stood only a few feet away. “No offence intended, Vaeril.”

“A little taken.”

Dann continued. “I refused to give him what he wanted. And then Tarmon called him out plain, and now he looks like a fool in front of the others. I don’t know about you, but I’d call that a victory. The elven kings and queens and their Ephorí like to play their little games. They like to twist their words – and yours – and make you squirm, make you feel weak and helpless. But their flaw is that they always think they are the only ones who can do it, the only ones smart enough to play their games. If Thurivîr thinks I’m an idiot, so be it. I like it that way. Now, can we stop talking about that gold-covered shit stain and go get pissed?”

Tarmon stoodwith his arms folded, an almost-empty cup of wine in his left hand, watching the men, women, and elves dancing around the fire as a pair of elves sang while playing the lute and violin.

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