“Throw down your blades,” the man growled, “and we will determine who is lying.”
Before the conversation could continue, Gwenna shouldered forward, pushing past Valyn, her face twisted with anger.
“I’ve got no idea who you are, Aedolian,” she said, jabbing a finger at him, “but wearing that heavy helmet all day must have stewed your brains. Where’s Sami Yurl and that pet leach of his? We know they’re here—saw them just before we landed. We know they’ve been filling that stone head of yours with perfect idiocy while you let them run around unguarded. Wait a little bit longer, and they’ll have time to jump on their bird and fly off.”
She looked ready to draw her blades and hack her way straight through the Aedolian, but Ut lowered the point of his broadblade directly at her neck. “Take another step,” he said angrily, “and I will cut you down.”
Gwenna scowled, but she didn’t back off. One problem with Kettral training, Valyn realized suddenly, was that his soldiers didn’t have the healthy respect for bared steel and superior numbers that one would expect from a green Wing with an average age of seventeen. To the Kettral, everyone else, everyone including Aedolians, were just amateurs. It was an attitude Valyn understood, but it was also an attitude that could get them all killed. In addition to Ut and the two soldiers flanking him, there were a half dozen archers scattered through the rocks, arrows already nocked to their bowstrings. They were all on the same side—given time, he’d be able to make Ut see that—but everyone was exhausted and tense. There was no telling what lies Yurl had spread just before their arrival. It would be all too easy for someone to make a mistake, and any mistake here would turn fatal quickly.
“Back off, Gwenna,” Valyn growled.
“But—”
“Back. Off.”
She bared her teeth, but obeyed.
“Your weapons,” Ut said. “All of them, on the ground.”
Valyn hesitated. A soldier never willingly sacrificed his weapon, but this was an unusual situation. As long as the two sides remained in a standoff, they weren’t finding Kaden or hunting down Yurl. Someone needed to make a gesture of trust, and Valyn didn’t see any compromise in Ut’s hard, dark eyes.
“Let’s get this charade over with quickly and cleanly,” he said finally, glancing over his shoulder at the rest of his Wing. “Do as the man says.”
“I don’t like it,” Annick said. She might have been talking about too much salt in the soup.
“Neither do I,” Valyn said, “but this is Ut’s command. The sooner we do what he says, the sooner we can start doing what we came for—finding and securing Kaden. Besides,” he continued, trying to force some levity into his voice, “we don’t have much choice, do we?”
“I could kill him,” Annick replied. She hadn’t so much as raised her bow, but the soldiers in the rocks shifted warily. Several went so far as to half draw their bowstrings—a mistake, given she could draw and fire while they were still finding the range. Annick didn’t seem to notice. “One arrow through the eye. Your call.”
“Your sniper seems to have a little trouble with obedience,” Ut said.
“Yeah,” Valyn replied, glancing over his shoulder at her. “But she grows on you.”
“Tell her to drop the bow or she’ll be the one sprouting arrows.”
Annick looked unimpressed. “Still your call, Commander.”
“Just put down the ’Kent-kissing bow,” Valyn snapped. “All of you, get rid of your weapons. All we’re doing here is wasting time.”
The sniper shrugged, then set her bow on the ground. The others followed suit, but Valyn noticed that they kept their belt knives.
“The flier, too,” Ut ground out. “Get him off the bird, then we’ll talk.”
“I don’t know,” Laith replied. “You all don’t seem to be getting off to such a great start down there on the ground.”
“Off the bird, Laith,” Valyn snapped. “Now.”
He wasn’t angry at his Wing. They were playing by the book, playing it safe, but there was no benefit to a pointless standoff with a dozen Aedolians. At best, they’d end up wasting valuable time. At worst, someone was going to get killed. If Annick killed Ut, there was no telling how the men under him might respond. The last thing they needed was a pitched battle here at the ass-end of the world while Yurl and Balendin and the rest of their ilk looked on grinning from the rocks.
“There,” he said, after a few of Ut’s men had scuttled in to remove the discarded weapons. “Now that you don’t have to worry about Annick putting a chisel point through your armor, maybe you can listen to me.” It wasn’t the most diplomatic opening, but Ut hadn’t been exactly welcoming.