“Aye.” A brusque nod, brows rising a fraction to hear him speak. “You’re a liability, I reckon. You’d do the same if it was your command. But I swore to obey the Counselor’s wisdom, and he wants you alive. So why do you smile?”

“Why does Malthus hide from Haomane’s Allies?” Carfax asked instead of answering. “Why have we turned south, when the war lies north? What does the boy Dani carry in that flask about his neck?”

“You’re stubborn, I’ll give you that much.” The Borderguardsman set aside the skinned carcass with a speculative look in his eye. “What’s your name, Staccian?”

Carfax shook his head.

Blaise wiped his skinning-knife on a tuft of grass. “You know mine.”

“Yes.” He swallowed.

“Do you serve under his command?” Dark eyes, steady and calm. “You know of whom I speak. He who caused my family name to live in infamy.”

Carfax looked away. “General Tanaros Blacksword.”

“The Kingslayer.” Blaise’s voice was flat. “You do, don’t you?” He waited, but Carfax kept his silence. “He strangled his wife, Staccian. He put his hands around her neck and he throttled her dead. He walked up to his sovereign lord, a man who was nearly a brother to him, and plunged his sword into his guts. And then he rode to Darkhaven and pledged his life to the Sunderer in exchange for immortality. Are you proud to serve under his command?”

“Who should I serve, then?” He dared a glance. “You?”

“You could do worse.”

Carfax laughed in despair.

“What manner of man do you wish to be?” The Borderguardsman watched him keenly. “You have a choice, Staccian. I’ve heard it said your folk made allegiance with Satoris Banewreaker to preserve peace and prosperity in your country. No one in Urulat would condemn you for deciding the cost was too high.”

Peace and prosperity, Carfax thought. Yes. Those were not small things to a people who dwelled in a stony land, to a people whose nation bordered on the territory of the Fjel, who made for ungentle neighbors were there enmity between them. Whatever was said of him, Lord Satoris kept his bargains. And whatever General Tanaros had done a thousand years ago, he treated his Men with honor. Carfax had sworn an oath of loyalty, and they had given him no cause to break it.

Without honor, a Man might as well be dead. Indeed, it was better to die with honor than to live without it. But he hadn’t expected it to come so soon.