Elsewhere

they could do in an area before they would need to move on. The local farmers had long been depleted of any livestock and grain.

              “So what would you suggest?”

              “We’ll stick to our plans and move east,” Hothgaard answered looking up at the walls of Manse. “Send extra scouts out…immediately. I want to find their cavalry…also when we break camp, let’s leave a small group behind under Sergeant Vutek, include the Speaker Nadler. I have a feeling the Massi Prince might actually sally forth after us.”

              “You think he’ll leave Manse and attack without the support of his cavalry?” Tramm asked, clearly shocked at the idea. Prince Gwaynn, though young, had shown no indications that he was a fool.

              Hothgaard nodded. “Yes…and we must be careful not to be caught between the two forces… remember he has Travelers on his side.”

              Tramm looked around suspiciously, even though he knew that Travelers could spy on anyone invisibly.

              “And if they come from behind the walls of Manse?”

              “Then we crush them quickly before they can coordinate any counter,” Hothgaard said hoping it would be so easy and he could get back to the King’s Island.

?

              Gwaynn was still getting dressed when Lonogan Bock burst in without knocking. Samantha, who was still lying naked in bed, scrambled to pull the covers over her body and up to her chin, her face going slightly pink. Bock did not apologize.

              “They’re packing up!” He said and Gwaynn could hear the panic in his friend’s voice.

              “The Knights?” Gwaynn asked, though he already knew the answer.

              Bock nodded wringing his hands and pacing throughout the room. “I’ve already spoken to Monde and had her send a message to Jess…Gaston,” he corrected himself.

              “A message about what?” Gwaynn asked. “Can you tell the Knight’s intentions?”

              Bock looked sheepish for a moment. “No…but…”

              “She’ll be fine,” Gwaynn said with more confidence than he felt, “and now that she knows the Knights are on the move she’ll keep a careful eye on them.”

              Lonogan nodded, somehow feeling younger than the man before him though he was over a decade his senior. Gwaynn however, was far more experienced in dealing with a loved one heading for war.

              “Prepare the army…but do it quietly,” Gwaynn ordered. “There’s no need to hurry, if the Knights break camp we can move out and bait the trap without the need for Monde and N’dori to weaken themselves. This could be a very lucky move for us.”

              Bock said nothing, wondering just how many other commanders would count themselves lucky to be going up against the Temple Knights…he guessed not many. He left the bailey, walking fast; his mind moving even faster. He had a sudden desire to visit Zebo and talk to Jess again…better yet he wished he were a Speaker so he could talk to her with just his mind.

              ‘Yes, that would be something,’ he thought and wondered how hard it would be to learn. Obviously it was not impossible, after all Gwaynn was taught at a later age. True, the King was still young, but perhaps he could broach the idea with Jess…if he ever saw her again. Without realizing it he began wringing his hands again as he walked.

?

              Jess na Gall and Captain Gaston were currently thirty miles to the east looking down from the Scar and out across the plains below. Ironically they were going to use the very same pass Samantha had when she was fleeing the Executioner Navarra. Now however, the pass was guarded by a high wooden fence and a host of men and women of Massi…nearly two hundred in all. It was a sizable force but it consisted mostly of those who were too old, or too young to join the actually army. They were here under the guise of guarding the pass, but Gaston had little doubt that though they may send a barrage of arrows at any approaching threat, most would flee in the face of any determined crossing. The hope however, was to bluff the enemy into thinking the defenders were more numerous than they actually were and so move on. Or, if there was an attack, the defenders would be able to delay an army long enough for word to get back to Manse and General Bock. Most of the people guarding the pass were simple folk…farm folk, here to help defend their country and few among them had any formal training. But it would be unwise for anyone to underestimate them. The inhabitants of the Plateau could be quite ornery.

              “I hear there are only the Temple Knights left,” the older man said, standing at the side of Gaston’s horse. The morning was cold, though the sky was clearing quickly which brought the promise of sunshine and a bit more warmth.

              “Yes,” Gaston said absently to the sergeant in charge of the defenses. “Have you caught sight of any scouts or movement on the plains below?”

              The man shook his head, and then moved his eyes back and forth between na Gall and the young Speaker Sarbeth. He unconsciously licked his lips as he studied the women, but when he smiled Jess could tell he meant no real harm.

              ‘Just an old lecher no doubt,’ na Gall thought as his eyes shifted back to Sarbeth, but then Jess closed her eyes and began weaving her arms about in front of her. Despite her deep concentration she could still feel the old man’s eyes on her. For a moment she wished Lonogan was here to chase him away, but then she projected and was standing alongside her horse. She glanced at the Sergeant who was now looking at her with a mixture of lust and awe. Purposefully she glided through him, knowing this would cause him to feel a bit queasy and slightly chilled then she was through him and out over the Scar and thought of him no more. She moved out…straight to the north, looking for scouts or any signs of danger. Finding none, she turned and headed back to the west, all the while searching for any enemy who might be watching and report their position.

              It didn’t take long; the first scouts she came across were nearly fifteen miles west and riding along the Scar River. There were only three. She noted their position and speed and then moved quickly on. She came across another pair farther to the north, again about twenty miles out from Manse. When she was satisfied she turned and moved farther to the west to check on the main force of the Knights. But as she flew through the air she missed not just one, but two additional groups of scouts, the closest only two miles to the north of the pass. She missed nearest group because at the moment it was idle, concealed atop a forested ridge gazing out over the Scar River valley and watching the Massi cavalry gather on the Plateau above.

              ‘They’re breaking camp,’ na Gall thought as she reached the large body of Temple Knights still milling outside the city of Manse, but the camp was nearly all packed up. na Gall guessed that the Knights would be leaving their location within the hour, but where would they go? She thought about moving farther to the west in an effort to locate scouts in that direction but in the end decided it would consume too much energy. She also resisted the urge to enter Manse and sneak a peek at Lonogan, though she did hover overhead a moment. Finally, with a projected sigh, she returned to her body, once again missing the stationary scouts on the ridge observing the mass of Massi cavalry. They watched intently, waiting for the Massi to make the move down onto the plains. It was not truly na Gall’s fault, not even a Traveler could see everything when projected and the world was a very, very large place.

              As Jess returned, hunger hit her body almost immediately, but it was not bad…projecting used far less energy than actually Traveling. She opened her eyes, reached into the saddle bag and pulled out a big bag of dried apples.

              “They’re breaking camp,” she told Gaston whose eyes widened slightly. “I spotted a small group of scouts headed this way along the Scar…about fifteen miles east and another pair farther to the north. If the first group continues on their course they will definitely spot our point of crossing.”

              Gaston smiled. “If they live,” he added and signaled his men to begin the crossing. Scouts went across first and spread out in three directions, the Captain taking nothing on chance. The crossing took well over an hour, forty-five hundred horses all lined up single file stretched for miles; even riding three abreast it was an