Into the evening dark, Zachary trotted with the others over the uncertain terrain, relying on perceptions other than sight to sense his footing. They had departed the campsite at dusk to allow their vision to adjust to nightfall, but without moonlight, it was impossible to make out all the details of the rocky plain. The soldiers were forbidden to use light of any kind since this was to be a mission of stealth. Any armor was shrouded beneath tunics, and bucklers held only dull finishes. This was not the River Unit’s first night raid, and its soldiers moved with catlike assurance through the dark.

Fiori breathed hard beside him, but his long legs helped him keep up. Zachary, while not breathing as hard, was pressed to maintain his position, for he had not quite recovered from all he had endured as a captive. The soldiers were younger than he and Fiori, as well, but Treman, who was of an age, did not labor at all and, in fact, had increased his speed to move among the ranks.

Donal ran a few yards ahead, and Rye took up the rear. Rennard held a position to his right. The soldiers were spread out and silent, so it was difficult to make out their positions. Zachary knew he was somewhere in the hindmost ranks—Treman, his Weapons, and Fiori had insisted. Enver, in contrast, had been enjoined by the captain to move with the forward scouts to help pick out and disable traps.

The order to walk came down the line. After a time, they’d pick up the pace again. It would go on like this until they entered the forest. It was impressive that no one had turned an ankle or worse on the uneven landscape.

He caught his breath as they trudged on, his hand wrapped around the hilt of Karigan’s sword, reassured by its weight at his hip. He considered it a token, much as that of the harp brooch Estral had given Rennard to wear. He was sorry Karigan had not awakened in time to see them off, though it might be for the better. Such partings were not easy. He had not dared interrupt her slumber. She was, Enver had told him, making up for the poor rest she’d endured until now, which she dearly needed if her wounds were to heal properly. When he thought no one was paying attention, he had stolen into the tent and knelt beside her. In the dim glow of a moonstone, he saw her face was peaceful, her breathing deep and regular. She looked much more herself, but he was not deceived, for he had seen her wounds.

Brave lady, he had once called her, and it was still apt, a thousand times over. How much could she give of herself? He would do her sacrifices honor in battle. He had kissed her cheek light as a feather so as not to disturb her. She did not stir, and he backed out of the tent in silence.

Stars winked in a vast array over the plain, though was that a cloud bank rolling in from the north? The night had turned sharp and biting, as though winter threatened to make a resurgence—not uncommon for the north in the early spring. As he gazed at the stars, he wondered, as he often did, if the gods resided among them, or if the stars were simply gaseous bodies as the star masters said. In any case, he would not rely on the unknowable, but on the leadership and skill of the River Unit and the steel of their blades.

“I should have listened to my daughter,” Fiori said in an almost-whisper, though unnecessary chatter was forbidden.

“How so?”

“She asked me not to do this. Said she’d only just found me.” He chuckled. “She was onto something—I’m getting too old for such adventures.”

Fiori was considerably older than he appeared, and it was said that his unnatural appearance of youth was due to his Eletian blood.

“You could head back,” he replied.

He perceived, more than saw, Fiori shaking his head. “I’ve come too far. Got to see it through. Most of all, I’ve got to find Lala so Estral can have her voice back.”

The order was passed back to pick up the pace once more. As they ran, the darkness of the Lone Forest ahead blotted out the stars on the forward horizon. Their approach went on like this, walking, then running, and then taking short rests to drink water or to eat some small provision to maintain their stamina. When the Lone Forest loomed just ahead and its verdant scent drifted to them, they halted and a runner came back to confer with Rennard, then hurried back the way he had come, disappearing into the dark.

“What is it?” Zachary asked.

“Our lead scouts have been clearing the way, and first ranks have entered the wood and engaged the enemy,” Rennard explained. “Second Empire’s soldiers have helped to make targets of themselves for our archers by keeping watch fires. We will advance after second and third ranks.”

There would not be much left for him to do, Zachary thought in disappointment, but then he recalled how wily their enemy was. Outside the forest, it was difficult to believe there was a battle going on, for the night remained quiet, but for the scuff of boots on stone, and someone coughing in the distance. He paced in impatience, waiting for the order to move. When finally he entered the forest, he would take on Second Empire however he could, and cut off its head.

THE UNCERTAINTY OF THE WAIT

Karigan was disappointed to discover she had missed seeing Zachary and Enver off, and was rather surprised to find it full dark when she rose and stepped out of the tent. She breathed deep of the chill air, feeling rested and peaceful. She had found her way to the starry meadow that Enver had shown her, even without his special tea ceremony, but the day horse, Seastaria, had not appeared. It had been a good exercise nonetheless, and she had slept well after.

She pushed her hands into her pockets and walked over to the fire where she was greeted by Connly and Estral. Estral ladled out some sausage and gravy over biscuits for her.