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“I don’t know,” Eavus growled. He had pulled the oar from the water when he ducked, but now he straightened and dipped it tentatively, giving a small nod to the man on the bank.

“Silve.” No use pretending they hadn’t been spotted. But frantically paddling away as fast as his arms could take them seemed a bit too obvious.

“What division?”

“Eighth.”

If Revni’s gods really cared, they’d make the river suddenly hit a swell, race them forward, preferably towards a waterfall. Instead, they moved so leisurely that the man on the bank slowed to walk alongside, like they were all out on a lover’s stroll. “I thought the eighth was recalled to Lordinius.”

Gods, did everyone on this island know his business? “Half was. I’m headed up to Norbucum. Prefect’s orders. What are you doing here?” Eavus tried to turn it around.

“Seventh cartographers. Me and Paero were sent ahead to scout a good crossing. Most of the seventh is back at camp. Two days south.”

Eavus hadn’t noticed Paero, but there he was: Soldier Number Two. This one fully dressed, emerging from the trees ahead of them with a scowl that was much less trusting than Legionary Small Bladder.

“Come in to shore.” His voice was stern.

Eavus swallowed. Paero probably outranked him.

“I’m on orders.” Eavus’ fingers gave an odd tingle as he went for the thin length of leather tucked at his inner belt. Was he shaking? “Letter of transit from the prefect at Lordinius.” He held it high. “I’m not to be detained.”

He ignored Revni’s narrowed eyes as he tucked the note back away.

Paero had stepped closer as they floated past, and he now followed their progress along the bank with long strides. “Come to shore so I can see it.” The copper triangles hanging on his belt clinked, dulled by the burble of the river. Irginor. Definitely outranked him.

The boat hit a snag—a shift in current, maybe a group of small rocks. Eavus dug the oar in—only to hit a floor. It was a shoal, a shallow spot. Eavus blinked, the oar barely a few inches under water. Gone aground in the middle of a river. It was as backwards as everything else.

“Who’s the girl?” The first soldier pointed, then squinted. “Is that a kid?”

“Come to shore, soldier. That’s an order.”

Eavus swallowed. Revni had barely moved, but he could feel it, her resisting snatching the oar out of his hands. He pushed forward, trying to dislodge them, and inwardly cursed—so dumb. He’d only jammed them further. The water slapped the sides. The irginor’s mouth turned up in a smile so cold that Eavus’ stomach dropped.

“I heard a story,” he began. “About a soldier out of Triconum.” Eavus dug the oar in, but the soft silt only shifted beneath them. “On an important mission, so they said. And then betrayed Aleteria by running off with a Dinaeii slave.” The irginor stepped forward, into the water. “Is that you? Is that your little local whore? Your half-breed child?” It wasn’t silt, it was muck. They’d been teetering on top of whatever mound they’d discovered, and now they’d sunk into the center. Revni leaned an arm over the side, trying to dig them out. Eavus’ racing heart was leading to mistakes. “They said that his lies had started an uprising. The Dinaeii claiming broken treaties, trade negotiations that had been going on for months destroyed…”

Eavus bit back his surprise, his protest, and pushed hard, backwards. “That’s not me. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Water caught the stern and pulled them to an angle. Thank the gods. The irginor kept coming, calf-high, knees, thighs.

“Then who’s the girl?”

“An Isfolj captive.”

“Isfolj? This far south?” For the first time, the irginor balked. The bow fully cleared the shoal.

“She doesn’t speak Aleterian. I thought the commander at Norbucum might know. I told you, I have my orders.”

Revni’s look bounced between them, clearly trying to discern what was going on.

The officer had paused, water lapping at his hips. “I heard they were sending a man after this soldier. To see if he showed. And if he did, they’d execute him.”

Eavus held the man’s gaze as strongly as he could. “Good. I don’t know anything about any Dinaeii.”

Revni gave the barest look of understanding and straightened up.

“I am Dinaeii,” she declared.

“Fuck,” Eavus muttered.

The irginor’s expression turned black with rage, and he strode forward, waist deep, splashing ever closer.