How much did the barbarians know? She doubted they had maps to plan their assault, but Kyaphar-also likely dead on Jordhan's ship, she realized with a fresh pang-had said that their path had taken them from one Gatekeeper seal to another, breaking each one in turn. What magic guided them to the seals, and where would they go next? She couldn't possibly guess, but if there were druids or elders in the group, she reasoned, they might know more.
Of course, it was pointless to think about the path of the Blasphemer's hordes unless it meant that her little band of farmers and foresters could join a larger force of real soldiers. Aundair had ostensibly sent troops into the Reaches to stop the barbarian advance, but they started by sacking Varna, and Sovereigns knew where they had gone from there. They could have followed the road westward toward Cree, perhaps, on a path of conquest to the druidic capital of Greenheart. Was it too much to hope, she wondered, that they struck out to the northwest, along the same path of cleared ground that might lead the barbarians around the Riverwood?
The more she thought about it, the more Rienne desperately wanted to reach the river. It was a far more defensible position than anything she could think of in the Reaches, and it would mean that she could take another stand against the Blasphemer with Aundair's armies at her back and the prophetic weight of her dream behind her. But even by the most direct route, the river was some two hundred miles away, easily two weeks' journey on foot. Probably more, with such a large group.
'I'm back!' Cressa announced, still beaming with evident pleasure at being chosen for such an important task.
'And what news do you bring?'
'I've brought a count of the troops at your command.' Cressa gave a clumsy salute.
'My command?' Rienne scoffed. 'I'm not an officer.'
'No one here is, and they all agree that they'd rather follow Lady Dragonslayer than anyone else.'
'No officers at all? What about druids or elders?'
'Well, I'm not sure, but that eagle seems to be following us.' She pointed into the sky, and Rienne squinted against the afternoon sun.
A large bird of prey circled high overhead. It wasn't big enough to be an Aundairian dragonhawk, unless it was much farther away than it appeared. It might have been a druid-she didn't dare to hope that it was Kyaphar- but she supposed it didn't matter until the druid decided to reveal himself.
'That's all?' Rienne asked.
'Twelve soldiers from the Reaches' standing army march with us. The rest are militia-a few veterans, mostly new recruits.'
'And how many are we?'
'All told, we number seventy-six.'
Cressa said it with pride, as though it were a huge number, but Rienne almost gasped at how few had escaped the battle. She closed her eyes in a silent prayer that other survivors had made it to safety, but it didn't give her much comfort. Twelve regular soldiers, fifty-three militia, a druid or perhaps a hungry eagle, and Rienne herself-arrayed against the Blasphemer's tens of thousands.
The eagle started a dive, but its path took it to the ground a few miles north of Rienne and her tiny army. So it's just an eagle after all, she thought, swooping down on a rabbit that spent too long in the open.
The thought made her scan the sky nervously, thinking of the Blasphemer's dragons. Some dragons remained with the horde, she knew, despite her best efforts. From the air, they could lead the barbarians right to the survivors as they moved across the plains and fields.
'Lady?' Cressa said, concern creasing her brow.
'Thank you for the report.' Rienne sighed. 'I wish you had brought better news.'
'There's one more thing.' Cressa seemed reluctant to say it. 'Most of us are tired. I'm not, of course, but I saw a lot of people who could barely stay on their feet. Many of them are wounded. I think they're wondering if we might stop and rest soon.'
Rienne rubbed her temples. 'Rest where?' she wondered aloud. 'How far away from the Blasphemer's horde is far enough? What if they're right behind us?'
Once again Cressa's face fell, as though Rienne's lack of a clear plan was a personal attack on her idealism. And again Rienne wanted to say something to comfort and reassure her, but this time nothing came to mind. Even keeping up the appearance of hope was beyond her.
'All right,' Rienne said. 'We clearly need to make camp. I'm glad you're not tired, but I can barely lift my feet off the ground anymore.'
Cressa laughed. 'I'm almost too tired to breathe!'
'Well, I have one more task for you. Find a couple of scouts and ask them to find a relatively safe place for us to make camp. Can you manage that?'
'Of course!' Cressa gave another awkward salute and hurried off, clearly less exhausted than she claimed.
The eagle was circling overhead again, and somehow that gave Rienne comfort, as if it were keeping watch over her little army. 'Thank you,' she whispered to it, and she imagined she heard its answering cry.
Three scouts went out at Cressa's suggestion and found a defensible position for a camp, at the top of a low hill with a good view of the surrounding fields and the forest behind them. They also brought word that what looked like another group of Reachers was making its way toward their position. They estimated that group at about fifty, which almost doubled the count of the battle's survivors. They were still at least an hour away, so Rienne set people to work on establishing a camp large enough for a hundred and twenty-odd. The professional soldiers set up watches and basic fortifications, while foresters and farmers gathered food and set up simple shelters.
As the sun disappeared behind the smoke that blanketed the western sky, Rienne watched the eagle plummet to the ground again, back in the direction of the forest. She watched the spot where it went down, waiting for it to rise up again. It took far longer than she thought it should, but at last it took to the air again, wings beating furiously. A moment later, she saw another group of people near where the eagle went down. They were walking over a rise, and heading more or less directly toward the camp. She looked up at the eagle again, positive now that it was more than it appeared. Perhaps it was a druid, not just following her band of survivors, but searching the land for others and pointing them in the right direction to join Rienne's army.
When the first group the scouts had spotted reached the camp, Rienne's impression was confirmed. She met them at the edge of the camp, and a young man stepped forward to talk to her. A bandage wrapped around his shoulder showed blood soaking through.
'Lady Dragonslayer,' he said, dropping to one knee and bowing his head.
'There's no need for that,' Rienne said. 'On your feet. What's your name?'
'Sergeant Kallo, lady. Is there any more room in your camp? These people are exhausted.'
'We saw you coming, and made sure to leave room for you all. You're most welcome.'
'I am grateful, and at your service.'
'How did you find us, Sergeant?'
'A Sky Warden in the form of a bird flew down and told us to follow him. He said that survivors of the battle were regrouping nearby.'
Rienne's heart leaped in her chest. 'What was his name?'
'I'm afraid I didn't catch it.'
'A dark man, darker than me? With long black hair and a neat beard?'
'Yes, that sounds like him.'
Kyaphar! It seemed he had survived the crash of Jordhan's airship after all. Might he have saved Jordhan as well?
'Please make yourselves comfortable in our camp. Sergeant. You're the ranking officer here, so I'm happy to relinquish command to you.'
'Oh, no, lady. I'm just a sergeant. I wouldn't presume to give you orders.'
Rienne sighed. She didn't particularly want the responsibility of commanding this tiny army, but there didn't seem to be any hope of escaping it. 'Very well. Cressa here will show you the camp. Rest well, and tend to your wounds, but I'd like to consult with you at sunrise.'
'I would be honored. Thank you, lady.'
