"I've heard rumors that some of the kitchen staff actually tried to poison Jared, he took so many of their daughters."
Tris nodded. "Carroway told me that, too. You know he always has the below-stairs news, and the kitchen staff love him like a son."
"So do the dowagers. Now that you're almost married, I think more than a few of the court matrons have an eye on Carroway as a prize for their daughters."
Tris grinned. "And what about you? I'd think being a general would make you all the more marriageable."
Soterius rolled his eyes. "I'll pick for myself, thank you. You know," he said, "I did finally
find a girl who caught my eye, while Mikhail and I were out rounding up rebels. She was a bar maid up in the high country, but she could throw a knife as well as Carroway. She and the bar owner were helping bards get out of Mar-golan before Jared could arrest them."
"And?"
"I sent someone to find her, but she disappeared. Maybe it's for the best," he sighed. "I don't imagine the court would be kind to her."
The roads were nearly deserted, and the weather turned cold as they made their way north. Their horses picked their way through the wagon ruts and mud, while bare trees on either side of the roadway shivered in the wind. Tris saw the soldiers flinch with every click of branches, scanning for danger.
We can't stay on knife-edge forever.
They rode without incident, reaching the killing fields as the sun was low in the sky. Although the soldiers rode much better mounts than the Scirranish who followed them, the Scirranish managed to keep up. The delegation had grown as they traveled, and now numbered well over one hundred people. Tris admired their determination. On the outskirts of the fields, Soterius gave the signal and the procession stopped. Tris and Soterius dismounted. Sahila, the Scirranisb leader, slipped down from his plough horse and ambled toward them.
Sahila bowed awkwardly. "Your Majesty," he said. "When you're ready, we'll show you where the graves are."
"Let me prepare."
Looking out over the land, Tris- could see where the muddy ground had been trampled. Mounds and sunken places marred the field. In the distance he could make out the ruined shadow of Huntwood. There will be time to feel later, he told himself. But not now.
If the families of the dead seemed unperturbed to have a Summoner as king, the men of Margolan's army were still coming to terms with the idea. Tris had. no doubt that Soterius had chosen soldiers as much for their openness toward magic as for their unquestioned loyalty. It wasn't that military men doubted the existence of magic-any fool who'd been to war and faced an enemy mage knew that magic was real. Healing magic and charms for luck or love were common enough. But few had seen high magic worked up close, and fewer still had been in the presence of a true sorcerer-caliber mage.