Ranjar Sargos awoke with the sense that a blacksmith was driving a chisel into the side of his head. He stifled a groan and tried to reach for the pain. It was then Sargos discovered his hands were bound.
Before he could voice his outrage, he heard Althea's voice cry out, "Is this honor-to treat a warrior like a rebellious slave?"
He tried to agree with her words. From the blank looks on the faces around him, he suspected he had croaked like a frog.
Althea shouted and cradled his head in her lap. He noticed a bloodstained bandage on her head and remembered the wound she had taken at her hairline.
A face Sargos remembered thrust itself forward, and the others gave way to either side. It was the last face he had seen before the chariot had been hit, when what seemed a thunderbolt crashed into the side of his head and flung him from the saddle.
"Ranjar Sargos! I am King Nestros. Who has bound you?"
"No one, Your Grace," a gray bearded man said.
"Captain-General Mylissos, he did not bind his own hands!" snarled the man, who must be King Nestros. Nestros drew a fine, if somewhat mud-specked dagger, from his riding boots, knelt and cut Sargos' bonds with his own hands.
"I trust your honor as I would my own or Great King Kalvan's," Nestros said. "You led your men most valiantly to the end, but the gods' favor was not with you. Yet if you are willing, you may win more in defeat than you could have gained by victory."
Althea said, "Only the gods could turn our defeat into a victory, and I see none on this field."
Sargos shook his head; it seemed to Sargos that King Nestros was talking in riddles. Beyond him a tall man in fine armor stood, smoking a pipe and nodding slowly. What victory could come out of such a loss as this? His mouth felt as though it were full of ashes and his head banged like a drumhead being beaten upon by one of Tymannes medicine men.
"Kalvan?" Sargos asked, pointing toward the man smoking a pipe. Nestros nodded.
So they have both come to gloat. No, that is not true. Nestros was truly angry with those who dishonored me.
"I have fallen, and doubtless those around me," Sargos said. "That does not mean victory for you or defeat for me."
Althea, who stood tall and proud as ever, nodded her agreement with his words.
"Your men from here to the redoubt are trapped against the Lydistros River," Kalvan said. "The rest are fleeing. We have let them go in peace. We still could pursue them, as wolves pursue rabbits."
Sargos turned his head slowly to Althea. "Is this true?"
She nodded. "The horde has broken. Kalvan shot his cannon at his own troops to stop their advance! I would not have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. He is a man of his word."
King Kalvan moved closer, saying, "Warlord Sargos, if you will sit down with us and discuss peace, We shall continue to hold our pursuit and spare your warriors. Otherwise, the Sastragath and the Sea of Grass alike will be lands of widows and orphans."
If he lies, he does so well. Althea can be trusted, but she may be hostage to my life. She would lie to save me. If Kalvan is telling the truth, he can be trusted… But I must see for myself.
Sargos tried to rise. He not only failed, but also would have fallen if Nestros and Kalvan both had not aided him.
To take healing from one's enemies is a sign of submission. Yet if submitting will save those who swore to follow me…?
"Can you summon a healer and a horse? If I see with my own eyes what you have told me, then we shall talk." Althea came to him offering her shoulder as a crutch.
The two kings nodded as if their heads were on a single neck.