“That remains to be seen, lass.”
Josey clamped down on a sigh threatening to erupt from her chest. If this was their best chance to stop the enemy, then so be it. “All right. That's where we will set up to meet them. I want lookouts posted in every direction for five miles.”
Keegan raised an eyebrow, but he left with Captain Drathan to relay her orders. She had been worried that the high captain, being a northerner, might hold her sex against her. Yet so far he had been content to follow her lead. And Captain Drathan said he learned fast.
Hirsch departed, too, but Brian remained at her side. Josey could tell by his expression that he wanted to continue their conversation, but she didn't trust herself not to say the wrong thing. Her face grew warm just thinking about it, and then a sharp pressure pushed against her stomach. Josey dropped a hand to her middle without thinking. Was that a kick? She felt for it again, but nothing happened.
“Majesty, do you wish to stop?”
He sounded so sincere, Josey had to smile. She was about to answer when a horn bellowed to the south. It wasn't the one used by her scouts or the Eregoths. Had the enemy found a way ahead of them?
Before she could react, Brian had slammed his helmet onto his head and was galloping away. He drew his sword and slipped his other arm through the straps of his shield as he guided his steed with his knees. Several of her bodyguard rode up to surround her. She looked around and found an officer. “Lieutenant Hillmund, find out what's happening!”
He dashed off with a salute. Lightning stamped his hooves while Josey waited. Part of her wanted to rush ahead, but she reminded herself that she was an empress, not a soldier. Still, it was maddening to just sit here. Her impulse to know had almost overridden her better sense when a group of men on horseback rode out of the trees. She didn't see any blood on them, and their weapons were in their sheaths. She saw Hirsch and Brian with Captain Drathan, but the others were unfamiliar. Then she spotted a face she hadn't thought she'd see for months, if ever again. He smiled when their gazes met, his large white teeth shining in the gathering daylight. His hair was a little longer than it had been at court, brushing past his shoulders in silky black waves. He shook his reins and cantered ahead of the group.
“Your Majesty!” he called as he approached. “We meet again.”
Josey swallowed. “Lieutenant Walthom. This is a surprise.”
She hadn't seen Walthom since she sent him and his cavalry unit to root out brigands in western Nimea.
“Please, call me Dimas.” He tapped a pair of silver strips on his collar. “And I am a major now. Twice promoted on the battlefield for valor.”
The rest of the party caught up. Captain Drathan came to her left side, and Brian to her right. “How is Lord Du'Quendel?” she asked.
Walthom frowned, but covered it with a fresh smile for her. “If I may say so, Majesty, you are a glowing vision after a long and difficult journey. We came as soon as we heard of the marchlanders' advance across the border. And your yeomen have been telling me about your unfortunate contact with these invaders.”
“Yes. Many were lost.”
Walthom placed a hand over his heart. “But now I am here, and we shall avenge our fallen brothers. These barbarians will taste the temper of our steel before we send them down to hell!”
Josey had no idea what that even meant, but she nodded. “How many men did you bring, Major?”
“Two hundred of the empire's finest cavalry!”
“And how far behind are the footmen?”
Walthom raised an eyebrow. “A sennight. Perhaps a few days more. But my light horse are more than capable of crushing these band-”
“That's too long,” Brian said. “We can stall for two or three days at most.”
“We could still make for Othir, Majesty,” Captain Drathan said.
Major Walthom grasped the polished handle of his sword. “Now see here. I did not ride all this way just to turn tail and run. Majesty, we have come to fight.”
Josey considered. Even with the addition of the cavalry, they didn't have near enough soldiers to match the invaders. But if they fled they would cede half of the empire, and possibly more.
“Majesty?”
“Ah, Major.” Hirsch cleared his throat. “Perhaps you would be so good as to inspect the site for the coming battle.”
“Yes.” Walthom smiled at Josey and extended his hand. “I must go, my empress, but I shall return.”
Brian pushed between her and Walthom. “Come, sir. The enemy approaches.”
The major allowed the officers to steer him away with good grace. As they rode away, Brian looked back. Josey mouthed, “Thank you.”
He winked as they passed under the trees.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Caim awoke to blinding light in his eyes. He blinked and squinted up at the three yellow globes on the ceiling. He sat on the floor in a tiny cell with his back against a wall; the room was so narrow he might have been able to touch the sides if his hands weren't shackled above his head. From the numbness in his hands, he guessed he had been here for some time. His head felt stuffed with wool. A sour taste lingered on his tongue. He shut his eyes, but the light intruded through the lids.
He remembered entering the shadow woman's house, and the fight in the alleyway. Then he'd been hit with back-to-back shocks. To finally have Kit real and tangible, to hold her in his arms, and then have her snatched away by his enemies was like a vise squeezing his brain. And Dray…
He tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry. The cell wasn't especially cold, but he had a chill and a soreness in his chest. The only exit was a large iron door. There were no windows, no way of knowing where this cell was located, whether it was day or night. Caim shifted to ease his shoulder muscles, but there was no comfortable position. He looked up at the gray ceiling and noticed something else. There were no shadows. Not a single one anywhere. He was tempted to call for them just to see if any would appear, but the ache in his chest gave him pause. After killing the sorceress he had felt so powerful, so full of life, but that vigor was gone, replaced by emptiness.
Caim was examining his shackles when the cell door rattled. Lightheadedness took hold of him as he turned his head, but it cleared as the door swung open, crashing against the inside wall, and four men entered. All wore black plate armor; two carried halberds with polished blades, and the other two had swords at their hips.
The sight of the armor took Caim back to his father's estate. He could imagine them carrying his mother away. He let out a slow breath that burned his throat. The soldiers didn't speak as the two swordsmen came over and unlocked his fetters. Caim had a brief thought of resisting as they hauled him to his feet, but his legs buckled under his full weight and would have dumped him onto the floor if the soldiers hadn't caught him under his armpits. They dragged him out of the cell, the halberdiers following behind.
Two shadow warriors awaited in the hall. Caim's hands itched to have his knives back again. Without a word, he was steered down the corridor, and the warriors fell in behind.
Dim lamps were set high on the stone walls. Caim clenched and unclenched his fingers as the circulation returned. The soldiers carried him past other cell doors. Were they taking him to the Lord of Shadow? Caim smiled at the thought of being dragged into a majestic setting like the Grand Hall in Othir. He was dirty and disheveled, and he smelled gods-awful.
Caim was yanked to a halt as his captors stopped before a broad iron door. With a knock it opened. As they maneuvered him inside, Caim got a good look at what awaited, and his stomach dropped. The room was small and dirty, lit by a brilliant globe hanging from the ceiling. A heavy wooden chair was bolted to the center of the cruddy
