Dorak nodded.
“Let’s talk in the mess tent. I’d rather this wasn’t overheard.” He glanced at Mikel meaningfully.
The child followed Adrina like a faithful shadow, afraid to let her out of his sight.
“Mikel, why don’t you go down and join Captain Almodavar and the others. I’m sure he’ll look after you until we finish here.”
“Am I a prisoner now?”
“No. Just go down and tell him everything will be sorted out soon,” Damin added, with surprising gentleness. “Your brother’s down there somewhere too. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”
He nodded doubtfully. “Is he all right?”
“Why don’t you go and find out?”
With one last cautious look, the boy turned and ran towards the picket lines.
The captains led the way to another long tent. The only difference between this one and the infirmary was the interior. The mess tent was lined with collapsible tables and benches rather than beds. The smell was marginally better, too. Once inside, Denjon dismissed the cooks and waited until he was certain they were gone before he turned to the others.
“We have a decision to make, gentlemen.”
“Then perhaps you’d like to tell us what’s going on?” one of the captains said. It was Linst or the other one. Adrina really couldn’t remember which one was which.
“I would if I knew. Perhaps you could enlighten us, your Highness?”
After so long among the Kariens, who considered the input of a woman no input at all, Adrina wasn’t really expecting to be included in the conversation. But these men served the Sisterhood. They suffered no illusions about the ability of women. She glanced at Damin who squeezed her hand in encouragement.
“I want to know what happened to my slave, first.”
“What slave?” Denjon asked.
“The young woman who was with me when we were captured.”
The captains glanced at each other and shrugged. “There were no other women captured, your Highness. She probably escaped in the confusion.”
“Could you send some men out to find her, Captain? She’s alone in a foreign country and not equipped to survive on her wits. Not in the wilderness, at least.” Denjon nodded to Linst, who left the tent to issue the order. That worrying detail taken care of, Adrina felt a lot more secure about her future among these men. “Thank you. Now what did you want to know?”
“Let’s start with what you’re doing here,” Denjon suggested.
“I fled Karien. The Defenders offered me their protection and when the order for the surrender came from the Citadel, I decided to leave, rather than return to my husband. Lord Wolfblade kindly offered to escort me.”
“Did you kill Cratyn?” Kilton asked curiously.
“No. R’shiel did.”
“No offence, ma’am, but I can’t say I’m sorry. He was an obnoxious little bastard.”
Adrina immediately warmed to the captain. Cratyn must have made quite an impact in the short time he was in the Defender’s camp.
“No need to apologise, Captain. You merely demonstrate that you are an excellent judge of character.”
“Where are the rest of the Hythrun?” Denjon asked Damin, anxious to stick to the business at hand, although he did allow himself a small smile at Adrina’s comment. None of these men seemed the least bit bothered by Cratyn’s demise. “Rumours in the Citadel had it that you had near a thousand men on the border.”
“I don’t share the Lord Defender’s enthusiasm for following orders, Captain. The bulk of my men left as soon as I realised Jenga intended to surrender. We were the last to leave.”
“And Tarja?”
Damin smiled at the Captain’s expression. “He was following Jenga’s orders. I believe the plan was to make life as difficult as possible for your new masters. The Defenders he took with him were all he thought he could sneak out without the Kariens noticing.”
Denjon nodded, looking rather relieved. “Following the Lord Defender’s orders, you say? Well that makes our decision somewhat easier.”
“Making life difficult for the Kariens does seem a rather noble cause,” Kilton agreed with a grin.
Linst returned from arranging Tamylan’s rescue party and looked at his brother captains with a shake of his head. “You can’t seriously be considering joining him?”
“I doubt Tarja will live long enough to join anything,” Dorak added. “But if the Lord Defender ordered him to undertake a special mission, aren’t we duty-bound to pick up where he left off?”
“There’s a thousand men in this camp! How many of them do you think will want to follow you on such a damned fool mission?”
“Most of them, I imagine,” Kilton shrugged. “Bring me one man in the camp, from the lowliest kitchenhand to the highest ranked officer, who was pleased to be marching anywhere under Karien command.”
Linst nodded in agreement, albeit reluctantly. “Aye. But if we follow the Lord Defender’s orders, aren’t we disobeying the Sisterhood?”
“Ah, but there are no Sisters of the Blade here. In the absence of orders to the contrary, we have no choice but to follow the orders of the Lord Defender.”
Adrina smiled at Kilton’s rather liberal interpretation of the law.
“That seems fairly cut and dried,” Denjon agreed. “And what about you, Lord Wolfblade? Are you still allied with Medalon?”
“You’re holding my men prisoner, Captain.”
“Then you should consider your answer most carefully, my Lord.”
Damin smiled faintly. “Much as I hate to turn down a good fight, I’m afraid I must return to Hythria. The Fardohnyans will be standing at my border come spring. I plan to discourage them from crossing.”
“Pity,” Kilton sighed. “Your Raiders are quite good in a fight.”
Judging by the surprised look on Damin’s face, such an admission was high praise indeed.
“You and your men are free to go, Lord Wolfblade. If you stay clear of the Citadel, you should be able to make it home by spring,” Denjon told him. “You were right when you said the bulk of our forces are in the north. By the way, I heard that the Warlord of Elasapine withdrew from Bordertown as soon as he heard of the surrender.”
“Narvell’s no better at following orders than I am,” Damin said. “It’s a pity, though. He’ll be too far into Hythria to call him back, by the time I get there.”
“Then we have to stop my father attacking Hythria,” Adrina said.
“How?”
“By offering him an alliance.”
“He’s already allied with Karien.”
“The alliance was dependent on my marriage to Cratyn. As that is no longer the case, the treaty can reasonably be assumed to be null and void.”
If Kilton could twist the law to suit the outcome he desired, there was no reason Adrina couldn’t do the same thing.
“I doubt if Hablet will see things quite so clearly,” Damin warned.
“Then we’ll have to make him see.”
“Marry her, Damin, then he won’t have a choice.” The demon child’s unexpected entrance gave Adrina a chance to recover from the shock of her suggestion. R’shiel had finally shed the power she had used to destroy Terbolt and intimidate the Karien priests, and her eyes had returned to normal. They were an unusual shade of violet, wide set and clear. She was very tall – almost as tall as Damin – and she carried herself with an unconscious aura of power. The comatose, uncertain child who had been led into Terbolt’s tent had emerged a woman, sure of her power and certain of her purpose.
“Is Tarja...?” Denjon ventured cautiously.
“Dead? No. He’ll live. Brak is with him. He’s not to be moved, nor is anyone to approach him until I say so. Is that clear?”
Denjon and the others nodded their agreement. Adrina doubted anyone would deny her when she used that
