Shadow's master

The shadow warriors darted at them, ripping Kit from his grasp and knocking him to the ground. The dagger fighter bound his wrists together with a thin cord while the spearman did the same to Kit, but she appeared to be only semiconscious. It was then that Caim spotted the blood on her chest and the two small puncture marks over her heart.

The swordsman walked over and picked up Caim's knives; he slid the suete through his belt, but held up the seax a moment before tucking it away. Malig wore an evil scowl as he was marched out of the alley with his hands likewise bound, but Dray remained where he was, holding his brother's spear. The shadow warrior said something, and Dray took a step. Caim saw the torsion begin in the Eregoth's hips, propelling him around as he drove the spear. The shadow warrior stepped away, but too slow as the spear's tip pierced his right eye and sheared through the brain until it exploded from the back of his skull. Dray recovered from the thrust and started to turn, but jerked to a halt in the space between two steps. The point of a black blade emerged from Dray's neck, and a line of blood bubbled down into his collar as he crumpled to the ground. The swordsman stood behind him.

Malig yelled and struggled until his captor slammed him onto the ground and gave him several sharp kicks to the head. Caim flexed his muscles, but did not react. He could see by the way Dray lay on the stones that he was beyond help. The swordsman flicked the blood from his weapon and returned it to its scabbard. His visor gave no indication whether or not he felt anything for the life he'd taken.

A gateway formed in the middle of the avenue. The shadow warriors carried Kit through and dragged Malig by his heels. Caim was hauled upright with a dagger point pricking at the base of his skull. Back in the alleyway, a mass of shadows covered the bodies of Dray and the dead warrior. Caim sighed as he was shoved into the portal's inky depths, and the street fell out from under his feet.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

The message was short.

Her Majesty, Empress Josephine I,

Regiments from the southern garrisons have begun to gather. I can send two thousand foot militia under the command of Knight-Major Pontias Vitario within the sennight. I pray they will find you safe and in good position to repel the enemy.

There are many other things to relate, but they can wait. Something has happened.

The word “happened” had been scratched out, and then repeated.

Your old friend from the Vine paid me a visit this past night. He was quite distraught to find you gone from the palace and in the north. Pardon me, but I told him as much of your recent activities as I was able. Still, the information did not satisfy the gentleman, as he left in quite a rush. His present whereabouts are unknown.

Hubert's signature was scrawled across the bottom.

Rain dripped on the parchment as Josey rolled it up. Her heart hadn't stopped pounding since receiving it. The “old friend” had to be Caim. After all the hoping and praying, she knew for certain he was alive. Josey shivered against the cold and fought to get ahold of her thoughts, which were flying off in wild directions. If Caim was coming for her, he would have arrived long before Hubert's messenger. That meant he'd been delayed, or he wasn't coming, and she couldn't think of many things that could delay Caim.

They rode through a forest of denuded aspens and oaks, a foretaste of the larger forests they would encounter in the south. The sun was coming up over a chain of low hills, streaking the sky with orange and gold. It was four days since the battle, and three since she'd been captured by the Eregoths. Now Keegan's band rode with her. The men of the northern marches were excellent scouts and foragers. In addition, her cadre had increased to nearly two hundred as they found survivors from the battle and picked up new men on their dash south.

Lightning whinnied. Josey patted his neck as she smiled at Iola riding beside her on a small gray pony. According to Captain Drathan, the girl had saved Lightning, too, riding him as she led the wagons and baggage carts to safety.

“Are you cold, Majesty?” Iola asked.

“No, just thankful.”

The girl smiled back, and then glanced ahead. Looking for a certain officer of my bodyguard, I'll wager. Josey followed Iola's gaze through the woods. Every morning she sent small mixed groups of her soldiers and Eregoths to harry the invaders, and every evening she waited to hear the casualty reports. Although this new strategy of striking the enemy and fleeing before they could respond was safer, her forces were so few that each loss felt like a spike driving through her heart. She put a hand over her stomach. The bump was hard as old wood under the four layers of clothing she was wearing. We'll stop soon, little one. Sleep a little longer.

The pregnancy hadn't bothered her much during this long march, but she worried just the same. Doctor Krav had warned her about extensive riding, but there was no time for weakness. She had to press onward.

Brian pulled up beside her. They had been riding through most of the night, but if he was as tired as she was, he didn't show it. He was clean-shaven, his long hair tied back in a queue. “We should stop soon,” he said.

“Yes. The men must be tired.”

Josey looked away as the words she really wanted to say formed on the tip of her tongue. I like you. No, I care for you. Deeply. Heavens, I sound so stupid. He must think I'm a complete featherbrain.

She still had his dagger strapped to her belt under her cloak, but now in the light of Hubert's letter it seemed…inappropriate. She carried Caim's child in her womb. She had no business flirting with this knight. Yet, when he looked at her…

“These men would not complain if their legs were falling off,” Brian said. “They would die for you. As would I.”

“Brian, I want to say…Well, it's just that you have been very-”

Three horsemen rode back through the lines. Drathan and the Eregoth captain had their heads bent together in conversation, and it looked like Keegan was doing most of the talking. Hirsch rode a few steps behind them. The brim of his hat was pulled down low over weary eyes. The adept had insisted on traveling with the scouts, hardly ever stopping, as they searched for a location to make their next, and possibly last, stand. She hoped he found someplace soon, before they all dropped from exhaustion. Hirsch opened his mouth to speak, but Josey beat him to it.

“When was the last time you slept, Master Adept?”

“Yesterday. Or maybe the day before. How are you faring?”

He didn't glance at her stomach, but Josey knew what he meant. “What have you found?” she asked.

Captain Drathan gestured to the trees. “Beyond this wood, the hills of the east and west come together in a valley, Majesty. If the invaders keep coming in this direction, they'll have to pass through that funnel, or travel many leagues to go around.”

“We will make sure the enemy comes this way,” Keegan said.

“How can you be sure?” Josey asked.

Keegan dug a hard roll out of a saddlebag. “Our men prick them at every turn. By now, they'll be eager to crush us and be rid of the nuisance. So we just need to bait the trap. The Thunder Lord came straight at us at Liovard, sent his men in waves until our defenses crumbled. Same as he did to you. He will keep driving straight south until he takes your capital. Or until he's stopped.”

“So we can force him to give battle, but that's not enough. His forces outnumber ours.”

“By ten to one,” Brian said. “At the least.”

Hirsch patted the neck of his tired steed. “The valley ahead is the best place we've found. There's a stream that would make a good obstacle to blunt their advance. And the land south is generally flat.”

So we can make a swift escape. “What about their sorcery, Master Hirsch? Can you defend us from it?”