Chapter XXXVI - Trust

Hey Everyone....

So, yeah, I think this is the chapter everyone has been badgering me for for months on end now. I hope it satisfies you all! It was an interesting chapter to write; I'm glad it's over and yet it's almost sad it's "done" now. I really need feedback on this one, more than any other so far, really, so please be liberal with the comments. :) I appreciate it!

~Emily "Firebrand"


Chapter Thirty Six

“Be safe, Warrick,” Tancred admonished, surveying the scarred face of the warrior before him. A pang ran through him as he thought of the possibility that he might never see Warrick or these men again. Geoffrey, Richard, Jerome.... So many good men. Friends. His voice was rough as he added quietly, “Give my love to my sister. Protect her as best you can.”

“Aye, Tancred,” Warrick replied, dipping his head. “It shall be done.”

Tancred clapped him on the shoulder and turned to see Geoffrey standing there, his eyes bright with excitement but face betraying slight restlessness. He gave Tancred a quick half-smile. “Bye, Hunter.”

“Geoff,” Tancred said warmly. The boy needs encouragement. Both of them do, he amended as his eyes flicked to Richard, Geoffrey’s quiet, stolid friend. “This is your first official mission isn’t it, lads?”

They both nodded mutely.

“Remember,” Tancred told them with gentle firmness, “you’ve already proven yourselves worthy, or you would not be traveling with this company today.”

“Truly, sir?” asked Richard in a husky tone, lifting his dark brown eyes from where they were fixed on the ground.

“I don’t send incompetent men on important assignments,” Tancred said, hiding the twinge of amusement that sprang up. “Just listen to your leaders and be quick to obey. Warrick and Kristalyn are each skilled in the methods of the task put upon you.”

“Yes, sir,” Geoffrey nodded.

“I know you will acquit yourselves well. You all will,” he added in a louder tone as he addressed the whole company. “My thanks for your service to Aerilya now, when she needs your courage. May your swords be guided by Deus and your valiant hearts entrusted to His worthy care.”

“Aye!” the men all murmured, their eyes alight.

Tancred stepped back and placed his right hand to his chest in a traditional warrior’s farewell. “Deus be with you all.”

“Deus’s face shine on you and give you peace,” came the customary response as the men turned to their horses and swung up with the sound of squeaking leather, stomping hooves, and snorting horses. Then with a thunder of hooves the small company rode out into the nevernight, raising small billows of dust in their wake. Tancred watched them, his heart full. Deus, guide them and fortify them with a holy strength, he prayed. They are warriors to be honored.

Hand upon the pommel of the long knife at his belt, Tancred turned away. His broadsword felt heavy upon his back as he strode back into the camp. Dusk was coming on. Warrick had pointed out that traveling under the cover of darkness would give them even better chances of making it to Kris without detection from either stragglers in Ricald’s forces or the outskirts of Elangsia’s army, and Tancred had agreed.

Tancred paused at an untended fire and poked a stick into the glowing orange embers. A moment later he heard footsteps to his left but did not look up. He knew who it was.

His mother’s voice floated toward him through the darkness. “Warrick has left?”

Silently, he nodded.

“It was the right decision, son.”

“I can only pray so,” he replied softly. “They rest in Deus’s care now.”

He finally glanced over and met Shyla’s eyes, which were lit with the glow of the fire. Shyla had been very quiet when he first told her of his decision to send Kristalyn after the Wild Men, but ultimately she supported Tancred’s position. She understood the logistics of it all as well as he did. Now, she replied to his words in a gentle tone that soothed his spirit. “That is by far the safest place they could be.”

“Aye.” Tancred looked back at the flames. “Have you talked to the other men about the battle? It will likely begin not tomorrow, but the day after.”

“They are ready,” Shyla said firmly. “Armed, prepared, and determined. Tancred, you carried on your father’s legacy well. These men will follow you to the death. You will see.”

“To the death,” he murmured, pensive. “That may well come true.”

“Do not give up hope before you have even begun!”

“I am not,” he replied calmly. “I shall hope and fight to the very end, and I believe Deus is on our side, so already we possess more power than Elangsia does. But the lives of these men, the thought of the families I know they have, and the desolation that will come to both Aerilya and Elangsia after the conflict...that is what pains me.”

“You are a good man, Tancred Ralyn.” Shyla walked closer and put her arms around her son. Tancred held her, offering his protection and strength as a refuge for her. She sighed a little and said, “Your father would be so proud if he could see you now.”

“I hope one day to be a man half as worthy and noble as he.”

“Already you are more than that,” she murmured. Pulling back, she smiled gently. “And I am so thankful for you.”

“And I you,” he said affectionately.

She reached up and pushed back a strand of her golden hair in a gesture reminiscent of her daughter Kristalyn. Dropping her gaze to the ground, she said slowly, “Tancred?”

“What?”

“You know Zoe is planning to go to battle, I suppose.”

Something in his midsection clenched. “I do.”

“I want you to make sure she stays close to you. At least as sure as you can in a battle. I know it will be pure chaos.”

“It will,” he agreed soberly. “But I will try to watch for her as best I can. You and I both know there is no holding her back from the battle, though.”

Shyla looked back up at him. “Oh no,” she laughed softly. “For all her beauty, Zoe is one strong woman. She certainly does not fear using a sword.”

Intrigued, Tancred looked closely at his mother. “You find her beautiful?”

“Of course,” replied his mother, looking surprised. “You have not noticed?”

He had noticed, but it was not the first thing he would have thought of when Zoe came to mind. Yet, Shyla obviously thought of the green-eyed young woman as primarily beautiful and secondarily strong. Interesting.

With a dismissive shake of his head, he glanced around. “Have you seen her recently?”

“No, I have not.” A note of uncertainty crept into Shyla’s voice. “That is...rather odd. She is typically close at hand.”

“Hmm.” Tancred laid his hand on his mother’s shoulder and said, “Rest easy tonight. I will see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Tancred.” After kissing him on the cheek, Shyla turned and walked away, her stride measured and graceful.

After she was gone, Tancred swung around and made his way through the camp. Now the blackness of night completely blanketed everything. The fires dotted throughout the camp created small domes of flickering light that spread their warm glow only so far before dissolving into darkness. The moon waxed bright in the sky and the stars lent their cool, white glory to compliment the splendor of the silver orb.

Tancred hardly noticed it. He walked through the whole camp, greeting the men and passing encouragement along to them. All the while he sought for a glimpse of Zoe. Where is she? He asked several of the men around the campfires if they had seen her, but all he received were shrugs and negative answers. He reached the west side of the camp that bordered Mairbrac Forest. It was dark, but the moon provided enough light for him to distinguish shapes and figures. Immediately he picked out a form that was out of place: standing tall and rigid with her back to him was Zoe.

For a moment, he hesitated. Should he go to her? What was she doing out there by herself? She could be praying, or mentally preparing for the battle. He might be seen as an intrusion.

All those reasons could be true, but something deep within Tancred stirred and kept him in place. Something about her stance...it called to him. It spoke of vulnerability, of a deep need. How he knew that, he could not tell. Deus? Is this You?

Speak to her, my son.

He blinked. The message could not have been more clear if Deus had decided to write it out in plain words on the sky for Tancred to read. Slowly, but with firm purpose, he stepped toward her. Leaves crunched beneath his boots as he crossed the space between them—a distance of perhaps ten paces. He drew closer and spoke quietly, “Zoe?”

She did not turn. “Hello, Tancred.”

Her voice was low, husky. He suddenly wished he could see her face and features. It almost sounded as if she were on the verge of tears. All this and more streaked through his brain in the space of a heartbeat, but all he asked her was, “What are you doing out here?”

“Just...thinking.”

“What of?”

With a deep sigh, she turned toward him. In the moonlight he could see the barest outline of her face but nothing of her eyes or expression. It frustrated him; and abruptly he realized how adroit he had become at reading between her words by using her features and incredibly expressive eyes.

“Many things,” she answered his question vaguely.

“You know by now that answer won’t cut it,” he said with a small smile. “What is wrong?”

A long pause ensued. “I want to go back to the camp,” she said suddenly. She stepped around him to make a beeline for the camp, but his hand shot out and grasped her forearm, stopping her.

“Don’t run away from me.”

He was not threatening, but they both knew his words were a command. “You would force me to stay?” she questioned in a peculiar voice.

“I would hear what is paining you.”

“Do you never tire at confronting and commanding me?” Her defiance was definitely waning. Resignation sounded in her tone. “Let me go.”

“Only if you won’t flee.”

Another long silence. Finally, she whispered, “I won’t.”

Tancred released her arm. “Zoe, what is it?” he asked again, patiently. He felt he was close...to something. What?

He heard her suck in a deep breath and exhale slowly. “Not here, Tancred. I cannot do it...in the darkness.” She sounded tense again. “Is there a fire, a light we can see each other by?”

Relieved that he would at last be able to get rid of the handicap of darkness, Tancred nodded. “Aye. Come with me.”

He turned and walked toward his tent, which was erected not far from where they stood. He opened the flap and she ducked inside to the darkness after a brief pause. Following, he reached for a lamp that sat on the small desk there and fumbled for a match. Flame flared up a second later and the lit candle burned brightly, illuminating the small interior of the tent. There were no seats, only his cot, so they both silently took a seat on the ground. Zoe sat cross-legged about two feet directly in front of him, but she studiously avoided his direct gaze.

Long auburn hair fell around her shoulders and framed her face. She appeared paler than normal and somehow wan, though she did not seem to have lost any weight or been taken with sickness since arriving back at the war camp. No, something unrelated to her physical being was being assaulted. What is it? Zoe, let me help you. Trust me. Let me give you strength to fight whatever is trying to kill your spirit. The longing to help her was so strong it took his breath away.

And he could do nothing unless she opened up to him. The reality of it all was frustrating.

Deus? What now?

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You must tell him. Now.

Zoe fought against the firm instruction in her head with ever-lessening strength. It was time. It was. She just did not know if she had the courage to do what she knew must be done. Please fortify me, Christus, she inwardly pleaded, momentarily closing her eyes. I beg You.

Her lashes parted again and she was met with Tancred’s unswerving blue eyes. The strength of his gaze shocked her, and as she had felt many times before, she feared he was reading into her very heart. Again the urge to hide behind her protective walls rose in her, quelling her spirit and boldness. I cannot do this!

Boldness. The word stamped itself on her mind, forcing her to face it. There was more valor in facing danger than in running away. She could not run. I’ve run too much in my life. She had been close to doing that just a few minutes earlier. If Tancred had not grabbed her arm and stayed her.... She shook her head minutely, her hair brushing against her neck. And yet, why? Why would Deus ask this of her?

There was no response to her silent inquiry, but Zoe knew deep within her she could not refuse or she was acting in disobedience to the Almighty. Very well then, Abba. How to even begin?

She turned her face toward Tancred. “Did you send men to Kristalyn?”

“I did. They left directly before I came to get you.”

“I’m sorry I missed their departure,” she said with a pang. “Geoffrey left, right?”

“With Richard too. Warrick is leading them.”

She exhaled, feeling awkwardness building. Why did words not come when she most needed them? What must I say?

Tancred saved her from having to think that up by asking, “Why did you leave camp?”

Raising her eyes, she said softly, “Because of Egan.”

He appeared mystified. “The pseudo-dragon?”

She laughed humorlessly. “Not because of the pseudo-dragon, but because of the message he bore.”

“From Kris?”

“Yes,” she whispered, slipping back into thought. “No, not even because of the message. Because of your reaction to it.”

“And what was my reaction?” he asked slowly, his voice deep and rich. Why had she never before noticed what a pleasant voice he had?

Ripping her mind from that she replied to his question. “Love. Protectiveness. Dedication.”

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“No. Just the opposite. Once, you see, I had brothers who felt the same about me. They have been ripped from me cruelly, brutally. Seeing you react to Kristalyn reminded me of that...of how life once was.”

Something flashed across his face and he asked in a hard tone, “Who harmed you, Zoe?”

This is where I need you the most, Deus, she thought. Her heart thundered as she thought of what she was doing. Why was the truth so hard to speak? Why was vulnerability so excruciating to unveil? Zoe felt like she was hyperventilating. Just do it. Just say it.

“My name is Zoe Anala Romany,” she stated, her voice low. How odd it felt to speak her full name; it had been several years since she had uttered it. “I am the lastborn daughter of Isaak and Lydia Romany of Braedoch Forest. My family is large—I have brothers and sisters besides Aiden and Ilara, whom you have heard of—but two and a half years ago we were separated by cruel fate and the hand of one who does not serve Deus.”

Zoe looked away from Tancred’s steady gaze, unable to face his inscrutable expression. She had never before spoken of the banishment to any living soul, and it was harder than she had even begun to imagine. Images from her past began to bombard her, but she struggled to push them away as she continued.

“Maeron Duard was self-appointed guardian over us. In a way that has forever been obscure to us all, our parents died not long after his arrival at Braedoch. I personally think he was sent to murder them, but for what reason I cannot tell. Since the day of their death, when I was five years old, Duard lived in the house with us, projecting his dark presence forevermore into our lives. We lived with his subtle cruelty for many, many years. Then, one day...” her voice faltered. “One day, he called us together and told us we must go. Forever. We were never to see each other again. I have relived that moment a thousand times and still I cannot see why he would deal such a brutal, irreversible blow to our family.”

She paused, sucking in a deep breath and forcing down the tears that threatened. Tancred waited patiently, still not speaking. His eyes, however, betrayed his inner feelings, and she could pick out anger, shock, and concern in their cobalt depths. Zoe was slightly astonished to realize that his company did not necessarily feel like an invasion of her memories. It seemed...natural; just as it was natural for her to interpret the emotions displayed in his gaze. Though why she felt that way she did not know.

“Aiden is the oldest of us. He was the strong leader and the one who taught me all I know of weaponry, battle, and determination. I was his Little Firebrand; the one who trailed him constantly and loved him with every fiber of my being.”

“Firebrand...” Tancred murmured, understanding dawning across his face.

“Yes. Perhaps now you understand my pain when you called me that.” Zoe smiled sadly. “After Aiden was Taerith, who was a leader too, but in a way different than our brash oldest brother. Taerith was the wise one; I learned of the stars from him, and how to read them. Daelia was the first girl in the family. She was motherly and tried hard to fill the cavernous hole that had been left when our mother was murdered.”

As she kept speaking in the low, measured tone, wistfulness and deep sorrow began rapidly pouring out of her innermost soul into her words. It became easier to speak.

“Next was Arnan, who you could always rely on to pull a prank but who possessed a strength that I can now look back upon and recognize. I think we all ignored it to some extent. He was also stubborn, defiant, and a bit willful...much like me. Next in line was Ilara, the second girl and one I envied since I was a small child.” Zoe’s lips upturned in a cynical smile. “Ever beautiful, graceful, talented; she was all I aspired to be and could not attain. Yet still I love her and wish more than ever I could see her face now.”

“You think of yourself so disparagingly?”

She stopped at the force of Tancred’s voice. “What?”

“You speak of Ilara with jealousy, but why? From your description, I would say you both are quite similar.”

Zoe laughed humorously. “You have not seen her to compare us. Where she is gorgeous, I’m plain. Her talent is natural. I must strive for years. She is fiery, and confident, and determined. I struggle with fear and wonder if—”

“You are more fiery than any woman I have ever met,” Tancred immediately countered her in a tone that brooked no argument. “You grossly underestimate your talent if you find it lacking, for I know of no other woman who can truly challenge me with sword or wit as you have.”

Zoe’s lips parted as she listened. “But—”

“And,” he said, holding up his hand to stop her, “if for one second you think of yourself as plain....” He shook his head and laughed softly. “You truly have deceived yourself.”

Shocked, she just stared at him. He thinks I am talented? Why did I never figure that out? It makes no sense. I irritate him; he irritates me. He’s not supposed to be picking out my good traits and telling me of them. Something major had shifted; the air changed.

Clearing her throat, Zoe said faintly, “At the moment that subject does not matter.” Biting her lip, she readjusted her thoughts and added, “One year younger than Ilara was Wren. She was another teacher to me. She could track anything through the woods and if it were not for her I think our meal table would have been skimpier throughout the years. She owns some falcons, and with them she chose to defy Duard’s order that we must never communicate. I have received some messages from a couple of my siblings by way of her birds, though it is never enough to satisfy the longing in my heart for their physical presence.”

“Understandable,” Tancred said.

Her eyes flicked back to his. “Understandable...and ever so infuriating,” she whispered fiercely. “Imagine being torn from everything you ever knew and everyone you loved. Wounds are inflicted. They go so deep you wonder if they will ever heal. And that wound was struck right through our hearts, the core of our beings.”

He did not respond, and Zoe continued softly. “Aquila was a year older than me, just nineteen when we were banished. She was small and dark, with a sweet personality and generosity I could not usually comprehend. I think my lack of understanding always kept us from becoming close.

“And finally...” she stopped and swallowed hard. “Finally, there is my twin,” she whispered hoarsely. “Samuel. Sam. We are so different, yet we were as close as close can be. He is gentler than I; not as forceful. He often tempered my anger in dire situations and managed to find a way to cheer me up when I was sorrowful. Without him as my loyal friend and Aiden as my leader and my other siblings as my companions....” She shook her head. Her tone was dead as she finished quietly, “I have been lost.”

She bowed her head, feeling the stark emptiness of her heart rising to the surface again. Deus’s comfort was foremost now, and she clung to that fiercely; but still, the pain of dredging up the past could not be ignored. Tears burned the back of her closed eyelids, demanding to be released. Her throat was so swollen with a traitorous lump that she wondered if it would explode with the pressure. I faced it, she cried out to Deus. I told him. Now what? What, Father?

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She was shaking. Violently.

Tancred watched as Zoe...Zoe Anala Romany...struggled with her emotions, trying as always to be strong. She probably did not see it as such, but her stunning vulnerability in sharing her secrets with him was perhaps the most courageous thing he had seen her do yet. It was stupid of her to fight the tears, but she justifiably was not exactly thinking clearly. Tancred’s head spun with the information she had just given him. She had lived with that locked within her for two and a half years? Without flying to pieces from pain and rage? So many things were becoming clear to him all at once; he struggled to hold on to it all.

He knew why she was so forest-wise and skilled with weaponry. He knew why the falcons had visited. He knew why she could not be a slave, why bondage was so utterly repulsive to her. He knew of her siblings, of her love for them, of her deceased parents—he knew it all and that meant...she trusted him.

Without really thinking about what he was doing, he moved over next to her and wrapped one arm around her shoulders.

That was it. Tears began gushing down her face the moment her eyelashes opened. Her eyes were bright, piercing green, like Kristalyn’s. She looked straight at him for one haunting moment, then laid her head on his shoulder and wept. It was not a violent display of emotion, but very poignant. Her whole frame trembled at the tempest of sorrow raging within her. She was not petite and certainly not delicate, but Tancred marveled at how small she felt as he gently held her as she cried.

Then, it was over. She quietly pulled away, and he drew his arms away. They sat in silence. Tancred did not feel awkward, but he could see her cheeks were tinged light scarlet. She was shamed by her display of emotion.

“Don’t be,” he said suddenly.

She didn’t look at him. “But I am. I’m an embarrassment everywhere I go. I failed as a Romany, as a warrior, as a sister. I let Duard separate us. I let him do this to my family.”

“That reeks of pride,” Tancred said. His voice was gentle but still blunt. “Deus, in His wisdom, separated you from your family for a reason. You cannot understand that reason...no one can, probably, but we are not called to understand Him. We are called to serve Him.”

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Zoe’s jaw hardened and she did not say anything. For a moment she was angry at him for his direct words. He doesn’t understand; he couldn’t. But then she felt a stir to her spirit and knew Deus was rebuking her. With a sigh she relented and slowly said, “You’re right...I’m sorry.”

His reply was calm. “There is nothing to forgive. And Zoe,” he hesitated, “thank you.”

Eyes measuring, she looked at him. She could feel the remnants of her tears where they glistened on her face but did not want to call more attention to them by wiping them away. Her voice faltered a little but she managed to say, “You have proven yourself time and again to me, Tancred. I do not see how I could withhold from you any longer. It would be wrong.”

“But you could have chosen to close yourself off again. You didn’t. It took strength to tell me this.”

Her breath caught as the expression on his face changed slightly. It seemed familiar to her, as if she had seen the look in his eyes somewhere before but in another person’s gaze. Abruptly she remembered. Lance had looked at her in just such a way when she had first arrived back at the camp from Ruma with Tancred, Rebekka, and Tryna. What does it mean? she wondered with slight confusion and accompanying frustration. I want to understand but I cannot.

Without warning Tancred reached forward and his thumbs brushed her cheeks, whisking away the last of her tears. His thumbs were calloused and rough, but his touch gentle. Quite abruptly Zoe felt as if she were on the brink of a precipice—one step forward and she would plunge into a chasm so deep she could not see the bottom.

“I don’t understand,” she heard herself murmur, as though her voice came from someone else.

“What?” he asked in a low voice.

She shook her head, disengaging their locked gazes. “I’m not sure,” she whispered. “I just...never mind.” She inhaled raggedly and ordered her heart to start beating normally again. Time to change the subject. “Tancred, about the battle: where am I to fight?”

The faintest flicker of a smile touched his lips, but he replied with due gravity. “You know we are going to be with the main body of men, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I will be close to the front with King Jaeger, but all my men will follow me closely. I assume you will be fighting close to us.”

She nodded. “Brac and I will be at the front as well, then.”

“There is some chain mail and leather armor available that will fit you,” he said quietly. “Put it on first thing when we ride out. Without it you’d be killed in seconds.”

“Aye.” Her voice hushed, she inquired, “When do you think it will begin?”

“Not tomorrow. Probably two days from now.”

“And...what will happen?”

“There will be much bloodshed. The dead will litter the field which will be slick with blood.” Tancred’s words were matter-of-fact but his face told her that the thought of what was to come pained him. “And the wounded...the screams of the wounded will haunt everyone. Zoe, war is a harsh reality.”

“I know.” Turning her head away, she rose to her feet and shook her hair back. He stood a moment later and she looked up at him. “But if my friends and my commander go willingly into such a reality, what else can I do but follow?”

He did not smile but looked very solemn. His hand came up and he gently ran his knuckles across her cheek. “You are a woman to be admired, Zoe Anala Romany.”

At the sound of her full name, Zoe’s stomach twisted strangely. This man knew everything about her...and he did not shun her. Nothing had changed between them at her confession except that they had bonded closer. The idea of their unspoken connection was interesting and one that deserved more thought, but for now she shoved it away. Later, she thought.

“Goodnight, Tancred,” she whispered to him, swallowing hard.

His gaze held her. “Goodnight, Zoe.”

Chapter XXXV - Message

Ten days passed; a week and a half of long days, short nights, and ever building tension. Zoe swiftly fell back into her previous role at the Hunter’s camp and threw herself into helping train the younger members for their role in the coming battle. She was skilled enough to assist them with their weapons practice and often went hand-to-hand with Geoffrey or his friend Richard to show them how to best acquit themselves. The two young men were very responsive to her instruction.

Lance worked closely with the troops as well, which meant he and Zoe were together a great deal. He was still acting a little odd, in Zoe’s opinion, and twice she had been certain he had just been staring at her for no apparent reason. But for the most part he was busy, or she was, and there was not too much time for her to analyze his behavior.

Tancred was very busy going back and forth from his camp to the Aerilyans, meeting with the king and his generals often. Zoe had hardly seen him since the first meeting with King Jaeger over a week before. Since then, tactics had been fleshed out, troops were organized differently, and official orders dispersed among the men.

By now, everyone knew where their units had been assigned and where they would be attacking from. Three different flanks had been formed. The largest group of soldiers, often called the main-battle, would directly face the oncoming eastward traveling Elangisan forces. They were formed primarily of infantry and all of Aerilya’s knights. The smaller vanguard, or forward, would come from the northeastern direction and penetrate one of the Elangsians sides. The soldiers in the vanguard were primarily archers. The third and last group—the rearguard—would come from the southeast and attack the opposing flank of the Elangsians. Much of Aerilya’s light cavalry was stationed in the rearguard.

Tancred had already mentioned to Zoe in passing that the Hunter’s men were to be stationed with the main-battle, the large formation that was squaring off with the approaching Elangsian army.

“You look tired.”

Zoe turned and was met with Lance’s appraising gaze. “Thanks, Lance,” she returned dryly. “You look...calm. What have you been doing today? I haven’t seen you much.”

“I was out with the scouts. I just got back.”

“What news?” she inquired.

“Ricald has fallen back.”

Zoe grew instantly alert. Captain Ricald, she had gathered over the last few weeks, had been stationed near Mairbrac for many months now, where he sent his men out to attack Aerilya. Everyone at the Hunter’s camp had been waiting for word that he had left his position and headed in the direction of Elangsia. Zoe assumed he and his men would be joining with the main body of the army. It was the general consensus that when Ricald left, the Elangsian troops would soon be arriving.

“Why don’t we stop him?” she asked Lance in an undertone. “How many men does he have with him? We could intercept him; keep him from joining with the Elangsian forces.”

“He’s got a couple hundred men or so,” Lance replied, his expression serious. “We conceivably could take them, but the problem with attacking them is that Ricald is not retreating in the direction we expected him to have gone. He’s not cutting cross-country to meet up with the Elangsian army which must surely be on its way. He’s heading straight back, back toward deep Elangsian territory.”

Puzzled, Zoe cocked her head. “What is he doing? Not joining the army? Why?”

Lance shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

What could Ricald be up to? Zoe frowned. Is he gathering more men from Elangsia’s outer territories? If so, why would Brastus send Ricald, especially now? Ricald was an important leader in Elangsia. Besides that, the army had been gathering by Ruma for a long time, so even men from far away would have had time to travel there if they were going to volunteer their services. Ricald should not have to gather more soldiers this late in the game.

“I haven’t seen you smile for a few days now.”

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Zoe glanced back at Lance. “It’s hard to smile when things are so tense,” she said quietly. “Have you seen Tancred lately? He’s stretched so thin he’s going to snap if he doesn’t get some rest soon.”

“Yes, but he can handle the pressure,” Lance said. His quick dismissal of Tancred surprised Zoe, but not as much as when Lance reached forward a moment later and gently touched her hair, pushing back a strand that had fallen into her face. “I’m more concerned about you.”

She felt uncomfortable but hid it with a small laugh. “I’ll be fine,” she assured him. Tilting her head slightly, she managed to get him to remove his hand.

“You’ll be fighting in the battle?”

“How could I do anything else? All my friends here shall fight; I cannot abandon them at the very end, when victory and defeat are so closely intertwined that one sword may make the difference in the end.”

Lance shook his head. “You are a most unusual woman.”

“And you are just now realizing that?” she teased.

“No, I think I knew it since I first met you. It is merely coming out stronger now that time has passed.” He looked at her and added after a second of hesitation, “I...I’ve enjoyed working with you this week, Zoe.”

She cleared her throat, feeling a little self-conscious. “It’s been good,” she said brusquely. “We got a lot done.”

He smiled. “I think we make a pretty good team.”

Zoe opened her mouth to reply but than stayed her tongue and instead studied Lance’s face. He was young, perhaps twenty-three or twenty-four. His clean shaven face was handsome, but Zoe considered it still rather boyish. His long hair continually flopped over his forehead; she wished she could push it back. Right now, his gray-green eyes glowed brightly down at her, seeming to be communicating something that both irritated and interested her. What is it? What do you want, Lance?

“So...” he took a deep breath and broke the spell that seemed to have settled over them both. “If this battle comes out well for Aerilya, what do you see yourself doing afterward? Are you planning on staying here?”

Her brow furrowed. “I don’t really know,” she said. “I have no place to go. I could travel more, I could stay for a while...” she shrugged loosely.

“You have no place to go?”

She glanced swiftly at Lance. “The place I originally came from is no longer home to me,” she said flatly.

“I see. Do you like it in Aerilya?”

She was surprised he did not pursue the topic of her old home more. With a start, Zoe realized that she was simply used to Tancred pushing her for more details and information. She was not used to people stopping after she sent them a message to back off. Tancred merely stabbed past her refusal and struck her at her core where it hurt the most; and always in such an effortless manner that it never ceased to alarm Zoe. He could penetrate her heart, the place where all her passion and secrets lay with seemingly no exertion at all.

“...Zoe?”

Shaking herself free, Zoe blinked. “Oh, yes,” she murmured, feeling flustered. “I’m sorry, what was—”

“Ho there! A message for the Hunter of Mairbrac!”

Zoe whirled, cutting herself off and ran across the camp to the edge. A leather-armored rider had galloped and slid off his panting horse, which was coated with a fine sheen of sweat.

“What is it?” she demanded, pushing past a few of the Hunter’s men to reach the rider.

The rider pulled off his helmet, his golden hair unkempt, and drew in great draughts of air. “Where’s the Hunter, m’lady?” he gasped out, his brown eyes flashing up to meet hers. “My companions and I...just back from the western hills beyond the meadow’s edge...have news for Hunter...and the king!”

Zoe spun around and ordered, “Geoff, go get him.”

Geoffrey sprinted off, his lanky limbs serving to their advantage. He skidded to a halt not ten paces off, however, as Tancred jogged around a tent and headed toward them, accompanied by his mother. Geoffrey fell into step with them and Zoe could hear him explaining what had happened as they swiftly approached. Zoe could see Tancred’s brow lower, even in the steadily deepening darkness of dusk. Pressing forward through the men, Tancred stopped beside Zoe and looked at the rider, who was bent over and breathing more evenly.

As soon as the rider caught sight of Tancred, he straightened as quickly as he could and saluted. “My lord!”

“Easy, man,” Tancred said in a calm voice. “You name first, then your message.”

“I’m called Jorim of Bryndor, Lord Hunter. The Elangsians have advanced to just beyond those hills at the far side of the meadow,” the rider said, his voice steadier. A loud murmur arose from the men around, and Zoe felt her heart palpitate oddly at the thought of the approaching enemy army. “They’ll be here by tomorrow morning, no doubt.”

“Are the Wild Men with them?” Tancred’s next question came without hesitation.

Jorim shook his head. “No, my lord.”

“Does King Jaeger know of all this?”

“My three comrades rode to him with this same message, my lord,” said the rider with a nod. “He should know by now.”

“Good man.” Tancred clapped him on the shoulder. “Come, we will give you a draught of wine and some food.”

With a grateful expression, the rider followed the rest of the men into the center of the camp and accepted the sustenance given him. Zoe broke off from the rest of the group and hurried over to him. “Well?” she asked in an undertone.

He looked over at her. “Well what?”

“Are you going to speak with the king?”

“No. He knows the plans we have made. The Elangsians will not attack tonight, I am sure. They will top those hills, spot our army, and settle down to make their own plans. It is the way of war. Before the storm is the agonizingly long day of nothingness.”

“What about the Wild Men?”

He looked over at her as they walked. “They’re not with Elangsia’s forces yet,” he said in a soft voice, “which means they’re still out there somewhere. Marching in this direction, most likely.”

“Is there still a chance of stopping or slowing them?”

“Perhaps.” Tancred looked down at the ground, considering. “We still do not know their position or where precisely they are marching from, however. And tonight may be our last chance to send men out for such a mission. It’s unfortunate our information is so lacking,” he muttered to himself.

Zoe frowned and opened her mouth to respond when Tancred stopped stock-still and raised his hand.

“Shh,” he said, shooting her a quick glance.

She shut her mouth. What is it? Cocking her head, Zoe listened intently but could hear nothing other than normal camp noises. Wait. She closed her eyes, concentrating. A faint clacking noise could be heard carried on the wind toward them. It seemed vaguely familiar but she could not place from where.

“Egan.”

Zoe opened her eyes and glanced at Tancred, but he was already searching the skies. “Remember him?” he absently asked her. “The pseudo-dragon?”

“Oh, yeah,” she nodded. “Kind of a reddish color, stuck up attitude?”

He grinned faintly. “That would be Egan. There he is.” He pointed and Zoe followed the line his hand and finger formed to spot a fast approaching dot in the sky. Tancred dropped his hand and said in a voice that seemed foreboding, “He must be upset about something if I can hear him talking from that distance.”

“Where is he coming from do you think?”

“Last that I knew, he was with my sister,” Tancred said grimly. “I have not seen him since before I went to Ruma, though.”

Zoe knew Tancred’s sister was a huge vulnerability of his. Deus, keep her safe please, wherever she is, Zoe found herself praying. She had never met Kristalyn Ralyn, but she wagered the two of them would probably get along very well, judging by what she had been told.

The pseudo-dragon flew lower and closer, and Zoe could pick out his form and his furiously flapping leathery wings. His golden eyes were glowing and his spiked tail flicked back and forth in his wake. The sound of his clicking language that she could not understand was growing steadily louder. He had a message.

Zoe could only hope it was a good one.

è è è è è è è è è

Tancred raised his arm and Egan made a beeline for it. He unfurled his wings as widely as he could in order to slow down his descent, and his landing on Tancred’s arm was quite steady. Scampering up toward Tancred’s neck, Egan began clacking and hissing furiously, his chameleon-like proprieties kicking in and causing his scaly skin to change from reddish-brown to gray to a sort of green-black.

“Calm down,” Tancred ordered him, trying to calm himself at the same time. “I can’t understand you when you’re talking so fast. First: is Kristalyn all right? Did she send you?”

With a huff, Egan paused for a moment and then began speaking, his hisses and grunts coming slower this time. Tancred concentrated hard. “Kris is safe,” he said aloud with stark relief. “Where is she?”

Egan hissed.

“Here in Mairbrac?” repeated Tancred, a little mystified. If his sister was here, why did she send Egan ahead with a message rather than coming to convey it herself?

Egan clacked affirmatively and added something else.

“What is he saying?” murmured Zoe, her green eyes trained on the pseudo-dragon.

“She’s positioned close at hand but wants to know what is going on,” Tancred translated in a low tone. “Kris was not expecting to see Aerilya’s army...but is pleased we are ready...and wants to know what she can be doing.”

The pseudo-dragon paused to take a breath and exhaled a puff of smoke from his nostrils. “Easy,” Tancred told him gently. “Take it slow. Where have you and Kris been all these months?”

The dragon hesitated for the barest second but that, combined with the increased gray hue of his scales, told Tancred the creature was lying. He listened to Egan’s story for the next thirty seconds with skepticism. “Ah. So you two have been working along the edge of Mairbrac,” he stated dryly. “She’s been freeing slaves within twenty miles of Aerilya’s border, hmm?”

With a nod of his little head, Egan snorted in agreement.

“Did you think up that story or has Kristalyn taken to lying?” asked Tancred, his mouth setting in a firm line. Kris did not lie to him. Then again, neither did Egan. Something was wrong here.

Egan bared his front teeth and hissed defensively.

“Oh, don’t even try defending yourself. I can smell a lie a mile away and you are wallowing in one right now. What important mission has Kris been on these months? How far into Elangsia has she been?”

Egan remained stubbornly silent.

“Look, I’m not going to change my position until I hear the truth,” Tancred said firmly. “Tell Kris to get over here. I want to see her. She arrived just before the battle started—perfect timing.”

The pseudo-dragon snapped out a few choice syllables.

“Enough,” Tancred interrupted sternly. “Get some food and drink if you need it, then be on your way back to Kristalyn. Understand?”

With a sharp little nod, Egan slunk down Tancred’s arm, his wings quivering with indignation. Quickly he took flight across the camp toward the provisions tent. Zoe watched him go, her brows raised, then looked back over at Tancred. “What was all that about?” she asked mildly.

“He’s hiding something,” Tancred said with a furrowed brow. “Or Kristalyn is. For what purpose, I’m not sure yet. Once Kris gets here I will straighten it all out. But,” he added after a moment, his tone almost regretful, “if he gave the correct coordinates of Kristalyn’s position, that adds another complication to this situation.” He rubbed the back of his neck, considering.

“What were the coordinates?” pressed Zoe.

“She’s positioned west of us, not far from where Ricald just withdrew.” He hesitated, glanced at her, and added, “I haven’t discussed this with the others yet, but I think Ricald is withdrawing merely to join up with the Wild Men.”

“Why do you think that?”

“A couple scouts told me he’s not falling back in the direction of the Elangsian army, which seems strong proof that he’s not joining with them,” Tancred began.

With a nod, Zoe murmured, “Ah. So instead of falling in with Brastus and the rest of the army, you believe he’s heading toward the Wild Men.”

“Right. His orders are likely to keep the Wild Men in accordance with their orders from Brastus. There is a very tenuous thread of trust holding the Wild Men and Elangsians together; I suspect Ricald was commanded to join his men with Naard and Jaquin’s to see to it that the contract is completely upheld—in other words, that the Wild Men make it to the battlefield without causing other mischief on their way there.”

“So...” Zoe crossed her arms. “Kristalyn is close to where Ricald was stationed. You think Ricald is falling back to join the Wild Men, not the Elangsians. And that means you know exactly where the Wild Men are coming from.”

“We would know,” he corrected, “if somebody were to follow Ricald and his men.”

“And if Egan spoke truthfully, Kristalyn is in the perfect position to do that,” she finished his thought for him.

“Exactly.”

They looked at each other for a moment, not speaking. Finally Zoe asked quietly, “Would you send her on such a mission?”

He paused. The idea of not just allowing but commanding Kristalyn to lead a small band of men directly at the enemy with orders to harass them in any way possible and basically place herself in an extremely dangerous position was going against every protective urge he had toward his sister. Clearly Zoe had picked up on that. Subtlety concerning Kris and Mom never was my strongest suit, he admitted to himself with a trace of ruefulness.

However, he could not ignore the fact that Kristalyn was in the ideal situation to follow Ricald and from there, slow or even stop the Wild Men. More than that, she was capable.

Tancred sighed. “I don’t want to send her,” he told Zoe in a quiet tone.

“That wasn’t my question.”

Their eyes met; her gaze challenged him. He pivoted away from Zoe and crossed his arms over his chest. Deus, have You brought my sister so close to me only to have me send her off on another blasted mission before I’ve seen her? Lines of frustration marked his face. What would You have me do? He disliked the confusion he felt. His heart felt torn—between family and duty. Kristalyn would do what it took for her country; he knew she would follow Ricald and work day and night to keep the Wild Men away from the battlefield. She would do her duty.

Could he?

He loved Kris. Protecting her was not just difficult, it was next to impossible. He wanted his sister back with him. Back where he could see her, hug her, and know she was safe.

But this was war. Wants came secondary to needs. Keeping the Wild Men away from the battlefield between Elangsia and Aerilya was a need; seeing Kris was a want. Tancred exhaled, slow and controlled. He lifted his chin.

“As much as it goes against my desire to keep Kris as far from danger as I can,” he began at last, his voice extremely quiet, “I would send her, yes.”

He turned toward her. Zoe was studying him carefully. There was a trace of something in her gaze that he was surprised to find he could not decipher. He had not had that problem for some time now. Was it worry? Sadness? Wistfulness? It was impossible to tell, especially when Zoe deliberately transferred her gaze from his face to the ground a moment later. Obviously she was not about to let him read her eyes at his ease.

“If you would send her after the Wild Men, shouldn’t you give that message to Egan so he can convey your orders to Kristalyn?”

Slowly he nodded. His mind began churning. “I’ll begin gathering the men for the mission. Twenty-five of the best will go with her.”

Still keeping her face from his view, Zoe nodded. “Send Warrick.”

“Aye.” He took a deep breath and added, “I’ll find Egan and tell him what is going on. Will you fetch Warrick for me?”

“Yes,” Zoe murmured. She slipped away and Tancred jogged off toward the provision tent, where Egan was likely still gorging himself on the army’s supplies. He raised the canvas flap and ducked inside.

With a croak, Egan’s head whipped around, shredded meat hanging out of the corners of his mouth. His golden eyes narrowed at the sight of Tancred and he sucked in the meat strands with a distinctly ticked-off hiss.

“Egan,” Tancred said softly. “Listen. I need you to give Kris an important message.”

Egan huffed.

“I already told you the message to give to her? Yeah, I did, but this one is different. Forget the first one. And cut out the attitude; it isn’t needed or wanted.”

Shooting Tancred a guarded glance, Egan reluctantly turned away from his dinner and looked up.

“She might know this already, but first tell Kris that she is close to where Captain Ricald was recently stationed.”

Egan growled angrily.

“Yes, it’s the same Ricald who killed Father,” Tancred said, his throat tightening. Egan had not forgotten past offenses that had been inflicted on the Ralyn family. “Tell Kris I’m sending men for her to command. Their mission is to follow Ricald to the Wild Men who are advancing on Aerilya. After that, they must keep the Wild Men from coming any further. Harass them, raid them, kill them, whatever it takes to stop them.” Tancred paused and looked keenly at the pseudo-dragon. “You got all that?”

Egan clacked twice affirmatively. He hesitated, and then quietly added something.

Tancred frowned. It had almost sounded like the pseudo-dragon had said companion. “What companion?” he asked slowly. Was somebody accompanying Kristalyn? If so, who?

Egan’s scales lightened to blue-gray and his eyes glowed. After a prolonged silence, he finally gave one dismissive clack that signified he was finished with the topic.

Tancred was not. “Is someone with my sister?” he demanded in a low, harsh voice. “Egan, look at me!”

The little dragon grudgingly lifted his head and clicked three times.

“Kuroiden?” Tancred’s eyes narrowed. “That’s her panther. He’s supposed to be there. Is there anyone else?”

Egan hissed negatively.

Hmm. Tancred was still not sure he believed the creature. Unfortunately there was not time to cross-examine Egan. “Well, just go on,” he said. “I’ll be sending Kris’s men soon; don’t forget to tell her that.”

With a flick of his tail, Egan slithered out from the tent, closely followed by Tancred. Soon after, the pseudo-dragon’s wings whirred and Egan flew off.

Tancred watched him go and had the strangest impulse to follow the creature to his sister. Instantly he dismissed it, but the ache was still in his heart. He had made the right choice to give his sister this mission, and yet...somewhere to the west, there was a beautiful green-eyed girl whom he fiercely loved; a girl he was once again forced to remain separated from.

“Fly hard, little fire,” he murmured to the pseudo-dragon, who was now a speck on the horizon. Deus, give Kris strength and courage; protect her with Your strong arm of justice....

Chapter XXXIV - Preparation

“You’re looking well, Jarrett.”

Tancred threw Chale’s reins to a nearby soldier and whirled at the sound of a familiar male voice. “Father Gywain,” he exclaimed with real pleasure. “Have you forsaken your priestly duties and come to take up the sword on a field of blood? Why are you not back at Bryndor?”

The brown-robed priest stood a few paces away, watching him with an amused twinkle in his eyes. “The sword of the Almighty cuts deeper than the physical sword,” he replied with a laugh. “But for now I might as well employ the power of the spiritual and physical armaments. My heavenly King called me to provide spiritual guidance for these men in Aerilya’s army; my earthly king simultaneously called for the strength of every man able to fight. I’ve merely decided to answer both calls.”

“Welcome then, and my heartiest greetings,” Tancred said, grabbing the other man in a swift embrace. “It does me good to see you.”

“And who have you brought with you?” inquired Gywain, pulling back and peering around Tancred. “Lady Shyla, Jaedon! Familiar faces, how I’ve missed you all.”

Shyla and Jaedon greeted the priest warmly, each having known him from back before the war started. Zoe stood to the side, reluctant to give Brac into the care of the soldier who wanted to take him. Tancred watched as she finally handed Brac’s reins to the impatient soldier and muttered something to him that instilled a look of startled unease to his face.

“Yes, my lady,” he told her, nodding vigorously before turning and carefully leading Brac away.

Tancred smiled slightly, amused. Knowing Zoe, she probably had issued a warning in no uncertain terms about what would happen if anything befell her beloved stallion.

Gywain had also noticed the exchange. His intelligent brown eyes sized up the tall young woman. Zoe turned back to the group and she appeared to study the priest just as thoroughly.

“And who is this?” Gywain finally asked Tancred, his gaze still on Zoe.

“This is Zoe,” Tancred responded, motioning to Zoe to step forward.

“Ah,” Gywain murmured enigmatically. “Greetings, Lady Zoe. I am honored to meet you. I trust Jarrett has not given you too hard of a time while you’ve been in his company.”

“I think I’ve successfully given him just as much trouble as he has given me,” she replied in a calm voice that brought laughter from everyone else.

Gywain laughed the loudest of them all. “I believe you! Come now, I will show you all to the king’s tent.” He turned around without any more warning and began quickly striding through Aerilya’s camp. The rest of them followed, matching their guide’s swift pace.

Zoe positioned herself so that she was beside Tancred and asked quietly, “Why does he call you Jarrett?”

“It’s my middle name,” Tancred explained in an undertone. “He’s always done that.”

“Oh.”

He and his two companions had ridden from the Hunter’s base camp to the much larger Aerilyan encampment directly after breakfast concluded. The Aerilyan troops were busy and seemed well enough occupied with useful tasks, but the tension that rose from the camp planted a seed of disquiet in Tancred. In order to face the Elangsians and put up a good defense, they would need men who were not fearful or timid in the least. Strength and stealth must be our two most powerful allies during the battle, Tancred thought as he strode after Gywain. Without them, we will be lost.

They reached a large tent constructed of canvas dyed crimson with white trimmings. At the topmost part of the tent flew the matching pennant of Aerilya, which displayed the silhouette of a rearing unicorn.

Gywain stopped Tancred and murmured, “I will catch up with you later. I have other duties waiting for me now.”

“Aye,” Tancred nodded. Leaving the priest, Tancred ducked beneath the flap that a servant hurried to open for them, and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim interior.

King Trystellan Jaeger glanced up, his face marked with weariness and more heavily lined than Tancred remembered. “Hunter,” the king nodded, straightening from his position over a large wooden table strewn with maps, missives, and written directives. His golden crown also sat atop the table, obviously having been removed for comfort reasons. “I heard you arrived safely. It is good to see you again.”

Tancred bowed slightly at King Jaeger. “Aye, sire. It is good to be back where I am most needed,” he replied in a calm voice. He glanced around, quickly identifying the occupants of the place, and added, “Greetings to you, Prince Garrick, General Kane, General Quinn.”

The prince, tall and dark, smiled slightly at Tancred. He was only a couple years younger than Tancred himself and they had always gotten along well since they were young. General Marron Kane was an imposing figure with weathered features and deep-set gray eyes. General Trav Quinn was younger with flaming red hair, a freckled face, and sharp gray-green eyes. Tancred knew Quinn had been promoted at a young age after he led a group of fifty men against a much larger attacking Elangsian force and successfully repelled them. Quinn’s figure was more slender than Kane’s, Kane being shorter and very strongly built.

The two generals nodded their greetings, taking in each of the newcomers with their assessing gazes. Tancred introduced his companions quickly: “You all know my mother, Lady Shyla Ralyn, and my friend Jaedon of Mairbrac.” He motioned to Zoe, who stepped forward at the same time. “And this is Zoe of Braedoch. She was with me on my last mission to Ruma.”

“Welcome to you all,” King Jaeger said with a nod of his head. “Lady Ralyn, it is a pleasure to see you once again.”

Shyla dipped her head gracefully but said nothing. Once, in a time almost forgotten, Liam and Shyla Ralyn had been frequenters of the Aerilyan palace in Bryndor. It was a memory so far removed it was difficult for Tancred to envision anymore.

Kane’s eyes were fastened on Zoe and Tancred was interested by the strong surprise that darted across the older man’s face. His scrutiny was not lost on Zoe, either.

“Perhaps you remember me, General Kane,” Zoe spoke to Kane, standing calmly in front of the men, her stance firm yet unassuming. “It is good to see you again.”

“I do remember you, lady,” he replied at last, his husky voice tinged with wariness. “How...”

“I successfully brought her to my son’s camp,” Shyla broke in, looking and sounding slightly amused. “Did you doubt my ability to do so, General Kane?”

“Of course not, Lady Shyla, I am merely surprised that she is here. She is...” he hesitated. “She can be trusted?”

Tancred glanced from Kane to Shyla to Zoe, his eyebrows rising. “Have you met Zoe, General Kane?” he asked.

The general grunted, turning his attention from Zoe to Tancred. “Aye. My men found her in Mairbrac last winter. We captured her to question her, but Lady Shyla spoke for her and took her back to your camp. That was the last I’ve seen of her, until now.”

“An interesting fact I was unaware of,” Tancred replied dryly, sending a meaningful glance at his mother. She just as deliberately directed her gaze back toward Kane.

Zoe inclined her head to the general and said smoothly, “I trust you do not mind my presence, General Kane. I have been with the Hunter for some months now.”

Kane shrugged after a moment. “If the Hunter trusts you enough to take you to Ruma with him, I cannot do much else but accept you are an honorable companion.”

“That taken care of,” King Jaeger spoke up, “I trust you have brought us news of Elangsia’s coming forces, Ralyn.”

“I have information,” Tancred replied. “I understand that Jaedon and my mother alerted you to the fact that Elangsia was indeed allying with the Wild Men and preparing to march on us.”

“Hence our waiting army,” General Kane stated, crossing his arms over his chest.

Tancred shot him a glance. “The preparedness of Aerilya is to be commended,” he replied evenly. “It certainly shall take Elangsia off guard. They are organized to march on an unsuspecting, relatively defenseless country and wipe us out as they march through the land. When they find an army waiting for them, they will certainly have to reevaluate their position and plans.”

“How large is their attacking force?” inquired General Quinn.

“I estimate there will be six thousand when all is said and done. An additional thousand from Rulaan is expected.”

Prince Garrick’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he asked, “Are the Wild Men marching with Elangsia’s forces, or are they going to be following the main body of Elangsians at a later date, arriving a few days into the battle to assist?”

Tancred frowned. “The Wild Men were not joined with the Elangsian troops when I was there,” he said, thinking back. “I never heard anything that suggested that Rulaan’s forces will be merging with them. I think they are staying as separate as possible. Despite their alliance, there is a general aura of mistrust that I picked up on between the people.”

“Their entire alliance is based around a marriage that is half unwanted,” Zoe pointed out.

“Unwanted?” repeated King Jaeger, looking at her with interest.

Zoe nodded, her hair shimmering in the light thrown out by the lamps on the table. “King Naard and Prince Jaquin of Rulaan both desire the marriage, as do the king and queen of Elangsia. But the bride-to-be, Princess Brysa Alustate, is wholeheartedly against the union.”

“You know the princess’s feelings?”

“I spent almost a month as her slave,” Zoe replied coolly, lifting her chin a notch. “I used my time there to pick up information.”

“You were inside the castle?” asked General Quinn eagerly. “What did you learn?”

“The princess hates the Wild Men and the war contract. There is a great deal of anger and suspicion among the royalty of Elangsia. Brastus is power-mad, his wife Maurelle is insane, and Brysa is caught in-between them.” Zoe hesitated for a moment and then continued slowly, “If she were free of their power, I believe she could be a powerful and just ruler of Elangsia.”

“That may be information we can use at a later date,” the king mused, glancing fleetingly over at his son. “At the moment, however, battle plans require our full attention.”

“What have you figured out so far?” inquired Tancred.

The king motioned to the table before him. “These are maps of the terrain around us,” he said. “Mairbrac behind us, the plains in front of us. I assume the battle will take place in the plain. The Elangsians will likely make camp in the hills at the other end of the plain.”

“You are certain they will march this way?” asked Shyla, stepping forward and running a slender finger across the map, tracing the course they were discussing. She looked up, first at the king and then toward Tancred.

“This is the most direct route from Ruma to Aerilya,” Tancred explained to her. “They are not expecting any trouble along the way to Aerilya, so they naturally will take the quickest course they can to bring their army to our borders. This is the place they would have passed over our borders, had they an unobstructed path.”

“We will make sure they find a bit of an obstruction,” said Prince Garrick quietly, his eyes darkening.

Tancred looked over at the young prince and nodded. “We certainly shall give them a barrier to remember,” he agreed mildly. “One thing I’m sure you all know but must be dealt with now is the fact that we will have less than half the number of our attacking forces. We are going to have to be craftier than our opposition if we hope to win.”

“Agreed,” nodded Kane. “Have you any ideas?”

“I do. Since the Wild Men are not joined with Aerilya’s forces, why don’t we put our minds to finding a way to head off Rulaan’s reinforcements before they reach the battlefield?”

Everyone considered his words. “Head them off?” inquired Quinn, running a hand through his hair. “How?”

“If we sent a contingent of men out into Elangsia, giving wide berth to the path the Elangsian army are taking as they march down here, that contingent could confront the Wild Men and prevent them from joining the Elangsians.”

King Jaeger frowned. “But to even the odds out, we would have to send at the very least five hundred good men to face one thousand Wild Men—even accounting for the fact that the Wild Men would be taken off guard. If we did that, we would be down to twenty-five hundred men here, still facing six thousand. The trade off does not seem worth it.”

“Maybe,” Jaedon said slowly, his expression thoughtful. “Five hundred men might be far too many to send, actually. A very small force, less than fifty, might be adequate.”

“Less than fifty?” exclaimed General Quinn with obvious skepticism. “Against one thousand?”

Tancred nodded, pleased that Jaedon understood where he was going. “Absolutely. I was not speaking of confronting the Wild Men head on. I am talking about raiding parties: attacking them at night; when they are marching during the day and not prepared to fight; and picking them off one by one until they grow frustrated...and give up.”

Silence fell. “You think fifty men could prevent a thousand from coming?” asked Prince Garrick at last.

“If they’re my men—yes,” replied Tancred, confidence lacing his words.

“Who would lead them?” asked the king. “Not you, surely. Your men and the rest of Aerilya needs you here.”

Encouraged that his idea was not completely dismissed, Tancred explained, “I would stay here, instead sending one of my captain with a contingent of my best trained warriors.”

“You really believe they could do this,” stated Kane.

Shyla stepped forward, and leveled an even stare at the general. “With all due respect, General Kane, it’s what we have trained for all these years.”

“Explain,” grunted the general.

“Freeing slaves, raiding Elangsian war parties, stopping advancing Elangsian troops...all that and more has been the life of the Hunter and his men for this entire war,” said Shyla in a firm voice. “My son has trained his men well. If you entrusted to them this task, they could and would accomplish it.”

Tancred felt a rush of pride at the strength of his mother’s words. She glanced over at him, her blue-gray eyes locking with his for a moment.

“We do not doubt the accomplishments of the Hunter,” Kane hastened to explain. “I simply must point out that the odds against them are tremendous.”

“The odds against Aerilya are tremendous,” Tancred countered, “which calls for tremendous ingenuity and daring on our part. We have to hit our enemy with something they cannot imagine, something they don’t expect. That is what will win us the victory.”

“Wisely spoken,” King Jaeger nodded slowly. “If you were to theoretically send a contingent of men into Elangsia, how will you know where to intercept the Wild Men on their march down?”

Tancred thought fast. He was not sure on that one. All he knew was that the Wild Men were coming from their northern country; he was not sure what route or road they would travel upon. Finally he replied, “I suppose we would skirt around the approaching Elangsian forces and continue north past Ruma until we ran into them. It would be rather difficult to not find an army of one thousand marching southward toward Aerilya.”

“Hmm.” The king drummed his fingers on the table and sighed deeply. “I think it is a good idea, but not one to be implemented—at least not yet. It seems very risky, sending such a small group of men deep into enemy territory, especially since they don’t have a clear destination.”

Disappointed but expertly concealing it, Tancred acceded with a very small nod. “Very well, sire. Nevertheless, do I have your permission to implement that plan or one similar to it if such a time comes that I have more information and an appropriate objective to have my men complete?”

The king hesitated, his gaze resting on Tancred for a long moment. Tancred held King Jaeger’s gaze firmly, his arms crossed over his chest and his chin lowered. Finally the king waved his hand and said, “They’re your men, Ralyn. If you deem the situation worthy...send them out. You must of course let me know if you do so, understand?”

“Understood, sire,” replied Tancred.

“Good. Now, when the main Elangsian force arrives....”

è è è è è è è è è

It was three hours more before Zoe left King Jaeger’s tent with Tancred and the others. She exchanged cordial farewells with the two generals and paid respects to the king and prince before leaving Tancred and walking with Shyla to fetch their horses. The two of them walked quietly across the small clear spot in the camp, dodging a couple soldiers as they hurried past, and reached Brac and Shyla’s mare, Mai. The lady stroked Mai’s nose and smoothed the mare’s gold-tinged flaxen forelock. Zoe paused for a moment and watched.

“She’s a beautiful horse,” she ventured at last.

“Thank you,” said Shyla, smiling quietly at her. “I think so too. She was a gift from my husband.”

Zoe caught the pain that lingered in the woman’s words, though it was well hidden. “You miss him a great deal, don’t you.”

Shyla nodded, absently fingering Mai’s reins. “He was a wonderful man.”

“Tancred thinks so.”

“He has spoken to you about his father?” Shyla sounded a little surprised.

Zoe shrugged and busied herself with straightening Brac’s bridle. “Some. The rest I just figured out on my own.”

“I see.” The other woman’s voice changed, still quiet but probing. “What of you, Zoe? Have you a father? Other family?”

“My father died when I was five.” A catch came to Zoe’s throat and she exhaled heavily, struggling to keep her composure which suddenly threatened to slip. “I don’t remember much of him, nor of my mother.”

“She is gone as well?”

“They both died together.”

“What happened?”

Zoe focused on a section of Brac’s neck and stared at the individual hairs there as if her life depended on it. “I believe they were killed—murdered,” she corrected herself in a very low tone. She thought of Duard and her stomach turned. “But that is not a subject for this time or place.”

“It seems to me that if there is a root of pain or anger in one’s heart, it is best and wisest to pull it out with one quick jerk, rather then allowing it to entrench itself.”

Startled, Zoe’s head whipped around and she stared at the other woman with wide eyes. Shyla met her gaze calmly but with gentleness. “It is the surest way to rid yourself of a burden,” she added in a murmur.

“This burden is rather large,” whispered Zoe, shaking her head slightly.

“And is not Deus larger than everything?”

“Of course, but...” Zoe stopped.

“Think about that.” Shyla smiled slightly. Quickly she moved to Mai’s shoulder and mounted the mare. Glancing past Zoe she said, “Ah, here comes Tancred. Let’s get back to camp, shall we?”