Treason Keep

her a chance.”

Tarja nodded in agreement. “Nobody wants to get her back more than I, Adrina, but she’s being held in the middle of a thousand Defenders.”

“But we have the Harshini on our side,” Damin pointed out. “We could be in and out before anyone knew about it. That’s assuming you’ll help us, Brak.”

“I’ll help you as much as I can, but you must understand that I can’t do anything for R’shiel. She has to make her own decisions.” He turned to Dace. “I’m allowed to do that much aren’t I, Divine One?”

Dace nodded miserably. “I suppose.”

“And once we have rescued the demon child?” Ghari asked. “You forget the Karien force approaching from the north. Unless Lord Brakandaran can magically transport us away from here, we’ll have little hope of escape. Cratyn is angry enough to hunt down his wife. I imagine losing the demon child will do nothing to improve his temper.”

“We need something to distract him,” Damin agreed.

“That’s easy,” Adrina said. “I’ll surrender.”

“No!” Damin cried.

“What else will turn him back, Damin? He seeks his wife. He doesn’t know that the Defenders approach, or that they have the demon child. If you can get R’shiel out of the Defenders’ camp, Terbolt will be furious certainly, but the Defenders will not pursue you with the same dedication that Cratyn will. With Brak’s help you can get clear. If Cratyn joins the hunt, nothing will deter him.”

Tarja could see the logic in her plan, but remained silent, as did the others. This was something they needed to decide between themselves. He wondered if Damin was beginning to realise just how hard he would find it to let Adrina go.

“I can’t let you do it, Adrina. If Cratyn suspects for a minute —”

“I’m prepared to take that risk, Damin.”

“Well, I’m not. You’re not going back to him and that’s final. We haven’t come this far to quit now.” He turned to Tarja, his face chiselled in determination. “We’ll get R’shiel back, Tarja, then we’ll run like hell. We’ll split our forces and scatter them so wide, Cratyn and Terbolt won’t even begin to know where to look. Brak can conceal us and —”

“And his priests will think I’ve lit a beacon for them,” Brak warned.

“But you’re shielding us now. Can’t they feel it?”

“I’m helping,” Dace admitted.

“Then you can help us when we flee.”

The God of Thieves shook his head. “That would be interfering. If you take R’shiel and try to stop what’s happening to her, and Zegarnald catches me helping you...” Dace left the sentence hanging ominously.

The gods could not destroy each other, Tarja knew that much, but he wondered what one god could do to another that would cause Dacendaran such concern. He had a feeling he didn’t really want to know.

Damin thought for a moment then shrugged. “What the hell. I wasn’t planning to live forever anyway. What say we go and rescue the demon child anyway, and to hell with the risk?”

“You’re mad!” Adrina declared, but she didn’t offer any further protest, or repeat her offer to return to her husband.

One by one the others nodded their agreement, including Brak, until Damin turned to Tarja questioningly.

“Well?”

Tarja looked up and met Brak’s unwavering, alien eyes. He wanted to rescue R’shiel more than he wanted to keep breathing, but he could not shake the feeling that saving her from her current predicament might be placing her in even more danger.

“Let’s do it,” he agreed, sounding far more certain than he felt.

It was too late by the time they finished their discussion to take any action that night, so they planned their rescue attempt for the following evening. The delay made Tarja nervous. The Kariens were already too close for comfort and the wait served only to bring them closer.

The Defenders had stopped for the night so Damin sent out scouts to spy out the lay of their camp as it was more than likely the camp would be set up in the same way each evening. Two Hythrun Raiders and two Defenders, hand-picked by Tarja for both their experience and their common sense, were despatched to learn as much as they could before sunrise – specifically, where the occupants of the coach were camped. Tarja didn’t need a spy to tell him they would be in the centre of the camp, but it would simplify things considerably if he knew exactly which tent and the disposition of the guards.

He spent the rest of the night organising the Defenders. Although they travelled in civilian clothing, every man had his uniform safely tucked away in his saddlebags. Sneaking into the Defender camp would be impossible, so Tarja planned to march through it openly. With luck, he could simply walk up to R’shiel’s tent, order her brought out, and then escort her away without a question being asked.

If she was alone.

If the guards on the tent did not recognise him.

If the guards hadn’t been given any orders to the contrary.

If she was guarded by Defenders, rather than Karien priests.

He forced himself to stop thinking about the ifs. There were too many of them for comfort.

Damin agreed with his plan, but was rather disappointed that he was not to be included in the rescue party. He consoled himself with the prospect of some useful sabotage. A small party of his Raiders would sneak into the camp and disable the coach, while the rest would attempt to scatter the horses. Pursuit was certain, once R’shiel was discovered missing, but they planned to make it as difficult as possible.

That left only Adrina, her slave and the thirty men left of her Guard. The question of what to do with them was rather hotly debated, mostly between Damin and the princess. She did not want to be left behind to wait, and Damin was understandably reluctant to lead her into the middle of the Defenders’ camp. In they end they compromised. Adrina would stay with the horses on the edge of the camp, ready for a quick getaway. The Fardohnyans were more easily dealt with. With Damin as his interpreter, Tarja told the Fardohnyans they were free to go. He gave them maps to find their way home and enough supplies to see them to the Glass River. The young Lanceman accepted their release with quiet gratitude, following an assurance that the princess would be safe. The men would leave at dawn – one more scattered group in a landscape that would soon be crowded with them.

Their plans made, they settled down to rest until daylight. They would need to travel north tomorrow, shadowing the Defenders until they stopped again for the evening. Tarja hoped that Cratyn was far enough back that his troop would not run into the approaching Defenders. They had no real idea how far behind he was. Their estimates were based almost entirely on the assumption that Cratyn and his knights were probably armoured, and therefore unable to maintain any sort of sustained speed. The chances were good that the Karien force would not meet up with the Defenders until the day after tomorrow. Tarja needed to be well away by then.

Sleep eluded him, and he finally gave up pretending that he was getting any rest, just as the first of the stars winked out of existence with the onset of daylight. He walked to the edge of the camp, climbing a small hill to look out over their route for the next day. The sound of following footsteps alerted him to the fact that he was not alone, but he did not turn. He had a feeling he knew who it was.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Nor can you, I’d guess.”

Brak stepped up beside him and followed Tarja’s gaze.

“I don’t need sleep the way you do. One of the advantages of being half Harshini.”

They were silent for a time, each alone with his thoughts.

“How bad was it?” Tarja asked eventually.

“Bad enough,” Brak admitted. “You might get a shock when you find her. He cut her hair.”

Her glorious, dark-red hair. Tarja felt his ire rising, but forced it down. It would serve no purpose here.

“Tell me the rest of it.”

“There’s not much to tell. It took a while before I finally convinced Dace to release me – it was a good thing you sent him, by the way. Zegarnald was quite happy to let me rot. Anyway, Terbolt had already left the Citadel by