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“Nusuru?” Seth asked.
“Don’t listen to him,” Raider advised. “He’s reckless and bouncy and an awful trouble maker.”
Seth snorted. “Sounds like someone else I know.”
“I’m not bouncy!” both Raider and Fahet protested at the same time.
A good deal of laughter and lighthearted arguing followed, and Seth mostly settled back to observe, accepting some of the delicious flatbread as he was directed toward a rug by the fire. Soon, however, he found himself busy answering Fahet’s questions about Masir and the Arcanum.
The boy’s eyes widened at Seth’s description of the colossal statues and pyramids, the arcane lamps that lit the theaters at night, and the motors that drove boats upriver against the current. When there was a lull in the boy’s questions as he marveled at the idea of cooling boxes to keep meat fresh, Seth took the chance to pose his own question.
“You called Raider Nusuru. What does that mean?”
“It means protector.”
Raider, clearly listening in, leaned over from his conversation with Asha to insist, “It’s just a foolish nickname. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Hm. There was something to this, something that Raider didn’t want Seth to know. There were so many damn secrets surrounding this man. It drove Seth crazy.
Asha asked with an air of redirecting the conversation, “You are taking care of Umae?”
Raider pretended to be offended by the question. “Of course! I let her be every bit as mean as she likes.”
“This is proper,” Asha said.
Raider grinned and informed Seth, “Umae is out of Asha’s mare, Tamari. Asha educated me in the correct handling of mares.”
“They must be respected,” Asha put in, “like any woman.”
Raider nodded. “Because mares, like women, are quite terrifying.”
Asha grinned wickedly.
“Geldings,” Seth felt the need to point out, “are much simpler.”
“Speaking of geldings, why the hell doesn’t yours have a name?” Raider asked it in the tone of a long-repressed question.
“He’s not really mine. I bought him in Demir a few weeks ago. I’ll sell him somewhere, maybe in Aqarat. He didn’t come with a name.”
“You could still give him one,” Raider argued, “even if it’s just … I don’t know, Socks.”
“Socks?”
“He has two white socks.”
“Yeah, I guess. You can call him that.”
“That is a terrible name,” Fahet complained, shaking his head. “I will name him when I see him.”
“Tomorrow,” Raider said, getting up from his rug. “We cannot keep you any longer.”
Between Fahet’s protests and the people who stopped Raider as he and Seth made their way through the camp, it took a while to extract themselves.
As they neared their own campsite, where most of their gear was packed in anticipation of an early departure, Raider said, “You purposefully didn’t name him. The horse.”
Seth sighed, wondering what had given him away. He almost denied it, but he wasn’t a very good liar, so he said, “I’ll have to sell him.”
“So?”
