Exile's Honor

where they left all the non-combatants and the baggage and all. In fact, there was talk about setting it less than a half-day's march from the Border, figuring that the closer it was to Valdemar, the less likely it was that the Karsites would come calling. The campfire glow we saw in the farther sky last night was probably from their full camp, not their battle camp.'

'I thought they looked rather too well-rested,' murmured the Lord Marshal.

'Then that means we won't have to break the Border so much as—bend it a little,' Selenay said speculatively. 'I suppose one could consider what is in that camp to be legitimate war loot?'

Now it was the Lord Marshal's turn to smile grimly. 'One could, Majesty,' the Lord Marshal said, 'And in fact, one should. Why, after all, should the Karsites have the benefit of this—war booty—when it is Valdemar that suffered?'

Alberich merely raised an eyebrow. 'How can we, calling ourselves civilized, leave children to suffer? And welcome in Karse, they will not be.'

Now Selenay looked to the rest of her advisers and commanders. 'I—honestly, gentlemen, ladies—I think we should do this. I know we can; I think we should.'

'Bringing life out of death?' asked the Chief Healer. 'I don't think there is any doubt. Sendar would.'

Selenay smiled wanly. 'My father would have been at the head of the expedition,' she said softly.

That seemed to decide them all, and the prospect of having a positive task to organize also seemed to galvanize them, lifting them somewhat out of the slough of depression that most of the encampment had sunk into.

The mood in the tent suddenly lifted, and even Selenay's voice took on more life than it had held since before the battle.

'We'll need wagons to carry the children, won't we?' she asked, breathlessly. 'How many? Where will we get them?'

'We already have them, Majesty,' said the Chief Healer, catching fire from her enthusiasm. 'We were going to send some of the wounded north—leg injuries, not so serious, but needing some recovery—but they'll gladly wait for a little to save these children! The horses are harnessed right now, the wagons are provisioned, we haven't loaded the wounded yet—why, we can be ready to go on the instant!'

She turned to Alberich. 'Would—you—'

'Of course he would!' the Lord Marshal exclaimed. 'Great good gods, who else! You used to patrol here, didn't you, man? And you won't be doing without him for more than a day or two—'

'What about us?' Laika interjected. 'Oh, good gods, not as leaders, but we know the Karsite language and we came across here to get out, and the children know me, at least.'

'Give me a moment, and I'll send a messenger about the wagons,' the Chief Healer put in, and they were off with the bit between their teeth. Alberich simply stood there, while all the decisions were made for him. They seemed to accept without question that Alberich should serve as the leader, and that Laika and the other three spies should be in the rescue party, and that it would consist of Heralds, Healers, and wagons. Heralds to act as eyes, ears, and if need be, guards, Healers to soothe the children, and wagons to carry them. The decision to go was made so swiftly that if—as Laika asserted, the camp was no farther than a half-day's march away—Alberich reckoned that they might get there and back by this same time on the morrow.

And it slowly dawned on him that no one, no one at all, even thought about the question of his loyalty. Of course he would lead the rescue; he was the best person for the job. Of course he would bring these children—some of them Karsite—back to Valdemar. And of course he wouldn't even consider taking the opportunity to defect back to his homeland. He was a Herald, wasn't he? Divided loyalties didn't even come into it.

Perhaps there were a few who thought differently, but there always would be. There would have been had he come from Hardorn, or Menmellith, or Rethwellan, or anywhere else other than Valdemar.

Within a candlemark, the whole thing was organized and ready to go, with plenty of volunteers. He hadn't been surprised by the ones among the Heralds or even the Healers, but the fact that the teamsters had lined up to a man had come as a bit of a surprise.

He was a little uneasy about leaving Selenay on her own, though. Still—

She was essentially on her own from the moment her father died. She has trained for this for years, hasn't she? If she couldn't handle the reduced Council now, when there was so little opposition and she was the darling of the army, what would she do back in Haven?

And as for her bodyguards—they were taking their job just as seriously now as they had before the battle. If any true Tedrels had survived, now would be the time for an assassination attempt, for now, whoever still lived had nothing to lose, and such men were the most dangerous of all.