Eibithar’s army continued to close the distance throughout the following day. By the approach of dusk, as the sun was balanced huge and orange on the western horizon, they were close enough to the Aneirans for Aindreas to make out the red Solkaran panther on the army’s banner. With luck, they would catch the enemy the next day.
“Still no sign of the empire’s army,” he heard Gershon say, as they continued to ride.
For a moment he thought to answer himself, but Lathrop responded before he could say anything. They hadn’t gone out of their way to speak with him thus far. Why should they start now?
“I’d been thinking the same thing,” Tremain said. “Perhaps it means that the king withstood the first assault.”
“And more, I’d guess. If the empire’s army had overrun the king and his allies, they’d be farther south by now.”
“I hope you’re right, swordmaster.”
“In either case, we have no choice but to keep moving until we catch the Solkarans. We must be getting near to the king’s army and we can’t allow the enemy to reach them first. With the empire attacking from the north, they’ll cut through his lines like a sword through parchment. And if by some chance Braedon’s forces have already defeated him, we’d do well to defeat the Aneirans before they can join with a larger force. Tell your men that we march through the night. We’re not going to stop until we catch the enemy.”
Lathrop nodded, as did the duke of Labruinn. A moment later, they both turned their mounts and headed back to speak with their men. Gershon glanced over his shoulder at Aindreas, as if expecting him to comply with the order as well.
“Do you disagree, my lord?”
“Not at all.”
“You just don’t like the idea of taking commands from a man who’s common-born.”
Aindreas opened his mouth, then closed it again.
“I thought so,” Gershon said, a thin smile springing to his lips and vanishing as quickly.
“Actually that’s not it either.”
“Then what? You feel you’ve been treated unfairly? To be honest, my lord, I believe you’re fortunate to be a free man. I don’t mind telling you that if I’d had my way, you would have been thrown in your own dungeon and left there to rot. But I had orders from His Majesty, and unlike you, I do as my liege tells me.”
He should have been outraged. Had his soldiers been nearby, they would have had to be restrained from killing the man. At least, the duke wanted to believe that this was so. The truth was that he deserved to be spoken to in this way. He hadn’t seen Brienne’s ghost-or whatever it was that haunted his days and nights-since leaving Kentigern, but he didn’t need her to tell him that he had placed the realm at risk with all he had done since her murder, and for no good reason at all.
“You think me impudent for speaking to you so.”
“Please stop putting words in my mouth, swordmaster. The truth is, I wish that I hadn’t done so much to deserve your contempt. I’ll see to my men right away.”
He wheeled his mount, intending to do just as he had said.
“My lord, wait.”
Aindreas would have liked to ride away and leave this insolent swordmaster to chew on whatever it was he wished to say. But something stopped him-the man’s tone, his own surety that he had already done too much to drive a wedge between his house and the Crown. Reluctantly, he faced the swordmaster again, saying nothing.
“I’m-” Trasker looked away briefly. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you so. It was … inappropriate.”
The duke could think of no reply. After several moments, he simply nodded and rode back to his men.
Aindreas had left his swordmaster, Villyd Temsten, in Kentigern, refusing to trust anyone else with the protection of his castle and family. The captains he had brought with him were good men-brave, loyal-but they were not deep thinkers, and they had even less sense of what the duke had done to earn the king’s enmity than did Villyd. Clearly they did not feel that soldiers of Kentigern should be marching under the king’s banner. They accepted their duke’s orders, and began immediately to convey them to the rest of the Kentigern army, but they made it clear to the duke, with their expressions and their flat voices, that they disapproved of his willingness to yield to Gershon’s authority. Returning to the head of the great column, Aindreas was forced to wonder anew if he had been wrong to make this journey.
An image of Jastanne ja Triln entered his mind, pale and lithe and lovely. He saw her as she had appeared that night he forged his alliance with the conspiracy, looking young and unassuming, an illusion she shattered, along with a wine goblet, using her shaping power. What would she do when she learned that he had marched with Kearney’s army? Would she and her Qirsi allies reveal his treachery immediately? Would they seek vengeance against Ioanna or his children, or would they content themselves with destroying his name? Perhaps these fears should have given him pause, made him wonder how he might aid the conspiracy here on the Moorlands. Instead they emboldened him.
For so long he had allowed his shame and fright to render him helpless. Not anymore. Casting his lot with the Qirsi had been the greatest mistake of his life, a desperate gambit born of grief and rage and drunken foolishness. He would pay for that error until his death, and long after he was gone his family would continue to pay. But maybe he could mitigate some of the harm he had done by making a hero of himself in the coming war. Not this one with Aneira and Braedon, but the real war against the Qirsi renegades, the one that would decide the fate of all the Forelands. That was the hope that drove him onward, that left him unmoved by the dismay of his captains. They couldn’t possibly understand. Up until a few days ago, he hadn’t either, though he should have. It remained to be seen if the realization had come to him too late.
True to his word, Gershon kept the army moving well past sundown, stopping only long enough to feed and water the horses, allow the soldiers to eat, and light their torches. The Solkarans didn’t stop for long either, but they could not increase their lead on the Eibitharians. When the two moons finally rose high enough into the star- filled sky to illuminate the grasses and boulders of the moor, Eibithar’s men doused their torches and quickened their pace, but it seemed the Solkarans did the same, for the enemy’s torch fire had vanished.
Their first indication that the Aneirans had halted was the barrage of arrows that pelted down just in front of the column. Aindreas’s horse reared, more because of the duke’s startled response than because of the arrows themselves, but Aindreas managed to keep himself from falling.
“Damn!” Gershon spat, fighting to control his mount as well. More arrows struck the ground before them, but all of them fell short.
“We were fortunate,” Lathrop said.
“We were careless.
The man nodded and ran back toward the king’s soldiers.
Lathrop frowned. “Do you think they mean to fight us here?”
“I’m not certain what they have in mind. But they’ve loosed two volleys now to no avail. I expect they’ll move their bowmen closer and try again. I want to be ready when they do.”
It didn’t take long for Kearney’s archers, three hundred strong, to reach the front of the column.
“I’d suggest you move back, my lords,” Gershon said. “I don’t want a chance dart to strike one of you.”
Caius shook his head. “I have a better idea.” He waved Gershon’s captain to his side. “Please, Captain, have my bowmen brought forward as well.”
The captain glanced at Trasker, who, after a moment’s pause, nodded.
“Mine as well, Captain,” Lathrop said.
Aindreas twisted his mouth for just an instant. “Better call for mine as well.” The others regarded him silently. “Well, I can’t let it be said that Kentigern shied from a fight, can I?”
“Thank you, my lords,” Gershon said, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Though I’d still feel better if the three of you moved back a bit.”
Lathrop glanced briefly at Aindreas and the duke of Labruinn before looking at Gershon again. “It would seem, swordmaster, that your authority over us only goes so far.”
Gershon’s smile broadened. “Yes, my lord. May I at least ask that you dismount and ready your
