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“Refusing to become a military outpost.”
“Refusal to feed and house the emperor’s army—” Eavus began, but the monk cut him off with another wave.
“Oh, we agreed to feed and house.” The wind shifted and the monk groaned, putting a finger under his nose. The dead body honestly wasn’t that much worse than the fens. “Just only for one night. Which was, apparently, unacceptable.”
Loyalty and curiosity tugged Eavus in two directions. Curiosity won out.
“Why was he executed then?”
“Treason,” the monk said simply. “One of your men—the one in charge based on his fancy hat—informed us that the emperor demanded our location.”
“They need a base. For the roads.”
The monk nodded. “Well, you know Aleteria. Kill first and ask questions later.”
Eavus flinched. It wasn’t much of an exaggeration.
“The problem, I expect, was my brother’s outspokenness.” The monk must have deemed the grave good enough—and in this earth, it probably was the best anyone could manage—because he rose. “I have no emperor. Only God can command me.”
Eavus sucked a wincing breath through his teeth, and the monk nodded.
“Honest, but not wise. And now he’s dead.”
The monk took the body’s ankles and Eavus took under the armpits. If he hadn’t been witness to the monk’s struggle, he would have thought the man wasn’t helping to lift at all. They lowered him in, and Eavus stepped aside. The monk began making symbols over the body. Eavus didn’t know the language he spoke.
“The dead man—”
Eavus started. He’d almost forgotten Revni was there.
“Is he a criminal?” She was squinting at the scene.
“Why do you say that?”
“No cup. No weapons. No games. Is he being punished?”
Eavus turned to look. It was a sparse grave. He suddenly felt stupid, for not knowing anything about anybody, and the flaring pain in his side and shoulder didn’t help.
“Ask him yourself,” he said grumpily.
The monk finished and sat again, letting Eavus reverse his work without even asking, and Eavus’ mood continued to sour. The work and the heat were making his head spin. Where was he supposed to go now? The monk was attempting to talk to Revni, but she eyed him askance. Eavus took a peevish glee in interrupting:
“She’s not Caerdeneii.”
The monk swallowed nervously. “From the north?” he guessed. “Sculpae?”
“Isfolj.”
Eavus didn’t know a man so white could get even paler. “Well.” He stood. “Is the rope really necessary? She doesn’t seem dangerous.”
“You don’t know her,” Eavus grumbled, handing back the shovel. He rolled his shoulder, the wound she’d given him properly throbbing now, then stopped at Revni’s pleased expression. The little monster.
“Well, it makes it hard for her to wash. And everyone must wash before they come to table.”
“To table?”
“Everyone who comes to my god’s house is welcome to a meal and a night’s rest.”
Eavus could have cried with relief, except that he knew he couldn’t take him up on it. He couldn’t take another night of fearing Revni was going to escape or murder him, and he couldn’t go another day without checking in.
