Taniel whirled to see Abrax approaching from the way he’d come. She was probably just returning from the Adran camp, and he realized they’d spoken less than twenty minutes ago.
“What the pit are you…” Her eyes took in his bloody shirt and Ka-poel’s bruised body. “What happened?”
“I need a doctor for her. Now!”
“Get a doctor,” Abrax barked at the sentries. “Bring her into my tent. There, set her on the cot. What happened to her? Holy saints, what happened to you? You’re covered in blood. Did you do this to her?”
“No!” Taniel roared the word before he was able to control himself. “No. I didn’t. She’s all that matters. See to her, please.”
“It’ll be done,” Abrax said.
“I’ve just killed five men,” Taniel said. “Soldiers in the Third Brigade. It was in self-defense, but they’ll be coming for me shortly.”
Abrax blinked at the news. She opened her mouth, then shut it. “You were attacked?” she finally managed.
“Yes.”
“Details, man.
“Five men jumped me in my quarters. They had Ka-poel like this… they were going to… while I watched.” Taniel heard his words flow out in broken, rushed sentences.
“You were unarmed?”
Taniel nodded.
Abrax put her hand to her mouth and studied Taniel. “You’re in shock. Sit down. Were you in a powder trance?”
“No.”
“Five men,” she breathed, almost too low for Taniel to hear. “With his bare hands.” She glanced at Ka-poel. “The doctors will be here soon. Stay here.”
Abrax crossed to the head of the tent. “Stewart!” she bellowed as she went. Abrax stepped outside, but she spoke loudly enough that Taniel could hear her clearly. “Ah, there you are. Get our best internal investigators. Send them to the Adran camp immediately. There has been a quintuple murder and I want to know the exact circumstances leading up to it.”
“We going after someone? Or trying to determine how the victims arrived at their deaths?” a male voice asked. Stewart, Taniel assumed.
“We’re not going after anything but the truth. And they’re not victims, they’re potential rapists. Dig up everything you can on them. I want to know exactly what type of people they were and what they were doing before their deaths.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And close the camp to the Adran provosts and stifle any rumors going around.”
“Of course. Anything else?”
“Stay close. I’m sure I’ll need something.”
Abrax returned to the tent a moment later. Taniel thought to stand, and realized that he’d taken Ka-poel’s hand at some point. He decided to stay by her side.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Believe me this,” Abrax said, her face flushed, her brow furrowed. “If you’ve lied to me, I’ll put the noose around your neck myself. But I won’t see a man lose his life because he defended himself and his loved one.”
The doctor came moments later. Taniel refused to leave the tent, but did avert his eyes as the doctor examined Ka-poel. She struggled a little — he hoped that was a good sign.
“I’ve given her something to help her sleep,” the doctor said after her examination. She glared at Taniel. “She’s suffered a brutal assault.”
“It wasn’t him,” Abrax snapped.
The doctor’s glare lost its bite. “She wasn’t raped, and she had blood beneath her nails, and her knuckles are bruised. She gave them a good fight. That might help you catch them.”
“They’re dead already,” Taniel said flatly.
“Good. Her languid state is from exhaustion. She might have fought them for hours. Her left arm is broken, and she might lose an ear. No concussion, though, and that’s remarkable.”
Taniel returned to Ka-poel’s side, barely noticing that Abrax lowered herself into a chair nearby to watch them.
Taniel wasn’t sure how late it was when he heard angry shouting outside the tent. Abrax lifted herself warily from her chair and went outside.
“What did I say about a closed camp?” Abrax demanded.
“Brigadier Abrax,” a sharp voice said.
Taniel put his head in his hands. Doravir.
“You’re harboring a man wanted for the murder of four infantrymen and a captain of the Third Brigade. Release him to our custody now.”
Nila felt her fingers shaking as she tried to position the needle beside her target.
“Don’t be nervous,” Bo said. His voice was soft and soothing. He sat cross-legged on a faded pillow in one corner of the room beside the only window, a musty old tome of a book cradled in his lap while he watched her. “If you mess up, it’s all right. I’ll only be burned from the inside out by otherworldly fire, consumed like a bale of hay soaked in lantern oil.”
“You’re not making this any easier,” Nila said. She took a deep breath and stabbed the needle into one of his Privileged’s gloves. The positioning looked right. It had to be perfect for the gloves to work properly.
“I know,” Bo said. She could hear his grin in his tone.
“Why can’t you do this yourself?”
“Because I hate sewing. And you’re a laundress. You’re probably far better at it than I am anyway.”
And Nila owed him. Even if he didn’t say it, Nila was certain it had crossed his mind.
