She looked around. They were on relatively open ground, a rocky hillside leading down to a winding stream. A few miles farther on, the stream curved across their path, and beyond it was another ridge, huge chunks of tumbled stone rising above the trees.
“I think we need to move a little faster,” she said carefully. She wasn’t sure how well Leti would take advice from a strange foreigner. “If we can get to the forest, we can put our backs to those rocks.”
“She’s right,” Vess said, though her expression was pinched. “In the open they will surround us.”
Leti nodded. She was trying hard to look decisive, Winter thought, but it made it easier to see how young she was, her big eyes just a fraction too wide. Vess, half a head shorter and several years younger, seemed more calm. Leti shouted something in Haeta and sent her sister to the back of the column to spread the word.
Winter herself fell back, looking for Abraham. She found him and Alex together, watching apprehensively over their shoulders. Two wolves were visible, walking at an easy pace well behind the rear guards, their gray fur flecked with white patches.
“Did you ask Leti about—” Alex said.
“Yes,” Winter said.
“And are we worried?”
“Yes. We need to move fast. Abraham, can you run?”
“Run?” He groaned. “I can try. Not for long.”
“I can carry him, if we need to,” Alex said. “I’ve done it before.”
“Good,” Winter said. “Make sure he keeps up. If anyone gets left behind...” She looked back at the wolves again and shuddered.
The Haeta had adopted a faster pace, each girl alternating between a jog and a walk. The rear guards pulled in, staying within a quick sprint of the rest of the column, and the scouts in front pushed farther ahead. The precision of it all made Winter think of the Grand Army, and she wondered how many drills these young women had had to go through. Abraham stumbled along, puffing, with Alex staying protectively by his side. Winter went back to the front of the group, where Leti was calling to the others.
“It may not be enough.” Vess spoke, unexpectedly, from beside Winter. “If they attack, it will be at twilight, when they are hardest to see.”
Winter glanced at the sky. The sun was already well down toward the horizon. Under ordinary circumstances, they’d probably have camped on the near side of the stream.
“We’ll make it.” She tried to sound reassuring. Vess only glanced at her sourly and slunk away.
The clouds were changing to a delicate pink when the scouts reached the stream, the rest of the column descending the hillside close behind. From above, Winter could see the two girls on scouting duty look at the water and then at each other. One of them stayed put, while the other sprinted back up the slope and called at the top of her lungs in Haeta.
“What?” Winter’s heart was in her throat. “What did she say?”
“It’s too deep,” Leti translated, staring down at the stream. “We’d have to swim, or find another place to cross.”
“We don’t have time to find another place to cross.” If Vess was right, they didn’t have time for anything.
“Swimming water that cold and fast is too dangerous,” Leti said. She bit her nail nervously. “They may not even come today, or at all. We should—”
Someone shouted. Winter looked up and saw it was the scout who’d remained behind. A dozen low, gray shapes had sprouted on the slope, as if by magic, half of them facing the column while the rest closed in a circle around her. She stood with her spear out and her back to the river.
There was more gray, on all sides, dappled shapes running through the long shadows. Oh, damn. Saints and fucking martyrs. How many of them are there? More shouts came from the back of the column.
“Don’t just stand there,” Leti said to the warriors closest at hand. “Help her!”
No. Winter could see it unrolling before her, as though someone had drawn the pictures. A disorganized rush, and the charge of the wolves from behind. Melee and red ruin. No, no, no. The animals were faster, loping easily to match the humans at a dead run. They’ll circle us, just like cavalry around an infantry battalion, looking for a weak spot—
The first group of warriors ran at the wolves in front of them, spears raised. The animals broke and scattered, easily keeping ahead of the humans, but others circled in behind. The lone scout, meanwhile, swung her spear back and forth, keeping the wolves in front of her at bay. From Winter’s vantage, though, she could see it was only a game. They can rush her whenever they want. They’re keeping her apart to break up the herd.
“Call them back,” she said to Leti. “Call them back now.”
“Jaesja will die!” Leti said.
“We’re all going to die if we don’t get into formation!” Winter said. “Call them back now.”
“But—”
“Leti!” Vess shouted, from somewhere behind. “They’re coming!”
The rear of the column had turned into a confused mass, brandishing spears to fend off a dozen wolves advancing slowly with hackles raised. Winter could already see others working their way around the sides.
A square. Not a square, even—no need for it without muskets. A circle.
“You’re supposed to be warleader,” Winter said. “That means—”
“I know!” Leti said. It was almost a scream. She continued in her own language, and the band of hunters paused, hesitating.
The wolves shadowing them chose that moment to pounce. A dozen of them rushed in, coming from all sides, teeth flashing as they bit at shins and ankles. One of the girls went down with a scream as an animal bit into the back of her leg, dragging her off her feet. A moment later a spear stuck it in the side, and it let go with a whimper. Another wolf writhed, pinned to the dirt, but more were closing.
“Back!” Leti shouted. “All of you, get back!”
The scout, Jaesja, was screaming something, and the girl who’d fallen shrieked in pain. But the rest of the warriors obeyed, sprinting back toward the main group. The wolves faded away, parting to let them through, then closing in behind.
“A circle,” Winter said urgently. “Your people must know the formation. When you fight horsemen, you make a circle, with spears facing out.”
Leti stared at her blankly, and Winter cursed the language barrier. She gestured, miming a spearpoint, until the girl’s eyes lit with understanding. Leti called out commands, and the effect on the Haeta was almost instantaneous. They’d been in danger of becoming a mob, but the sound of clear orders brought them to their senses, and within a minute they’d formed into a circular formation, each with spear leveled.
The wolves who were toying with Jaesja tired of their game. One of them darted for her, a feint to draw her spearpoint, and when it retreated another tore out her hamstring. As she fell, jaws closed on her throat, spraying red. The warrior who’d gone down in the first rush had rolled onto her back, groping for her spear, but three animals were on her before she could use it. Her screams rose in pitch as they tore at her, ripping her furs and then her skin. A muzzle came away drenched in red, and her shrieks turned to a low mewling before they mercifully ceased. More wolves closed in, ripping and tearing as they fed, and Winter gagged and looked away.
Around the circle, wolves paced back and forth. Periodically one of them would close in, sensing weakness, and spears would jab in its direction.
“We can’t keep them away forever.” Vess again, appearing at Winter’s elbow. “If we had archers, we could pick them off, but now they only need to wait for us to tire.”
“They...” Leti couldn’t tear her eyes away from the dying scout. “I...”
Winter grabbed her shoulders and turned her forcibly. They stood in the small clear area inside the circle, with Alex and Abraham. Everyone else was turned outward, spears raised. No reserve, said the part of Winter’s mind that always thought tactically. Nothing to repair a breach.
“She’s right,” Winter said.
&nb
sp; “What do we do?” Leti said. “If we break and run, they’ll kill us all.”
Why is she looking at me? Why do they always look at me? It felt like the most natural thing in the world, but Winter could already feel the weight on her shoulders. Why is it always my responsibility?
Complain later. Survive now.
“Alex!” she said. “Are you two all right?”
“So far,” Alex said, watching the wolves.
Winter went to her side and spoke quietly. “I think you need to start picking them off.”
“Are you sure?” Alex said. “The Haeta might not see my power as kindly as they see Abraham’s.”
“If you don’t, we’re all dead. I’ve got another five rounds for my pistol. That’s not going to be enough.”
“Okay.” Alex shook out her hands. “Give the word.”
“Leti!” Winter called. “Alex will try to hurt them. Tell everyone not to panic, no matter what happens.”
“How?” Leti said. But Vess was already shouting in Haeta, and after a moment Leti joined her.
“Do it,” Winter said to Alex.
Alex raised her arms, globes of darkness enveloping her hands. She sighted carefully, between two of the Haeta warriors, and a lance of pure shadow licked out. The pair flinched back in alarm, but the beam had already passed them and gone on to spear one of the circling wolves through the head. The animal crashed to the ground, blood spurting. The other wolves around it paused, uncertain. That made them easier targets, and two more black lances snapped across the field, leaving two furry bodies in their wake.
“She...” Leti said, staring. “She is...”
“A Blessed One,” Winter said. “Like Abraham. They are companions.”
“This is not the power of a Blessed One,” Vess growled.
As the dead piled up, the wolves were growing agitated, fleeing from where Alex’s attention was directed. She followed them, turning in a slow circle, her beams scything out whenever she had a clear shot. Some of the Haeta gave alarmed shouts, but others were cheering every dead wolf.
Driven by desperate starvation, the wolves charged, two dozen of them in a tight group. They hit the side of the circle across from Alex, dodging the protective spears and leaping at the girls. Three of the animals went down, but their corpses dragged the spearpoints away, and the rest poured through. One Haeta girl was bowled over as a wolf slammed into her, her scream dissolving into a gurgle as it ripped out her throat with one efficient motion. Others struggled as the animals grabbed their arms or legs, dragging them to the ground.
No reserve, Winter thought. Except one. She drew her saber and charged. The first wolf, tearing at the fallen girl, didn’t see her coming, and her blow to its neck nearly took its head off. It collapsed, twitching, and she spun to face the next one. The animal backed away from the blade, while two more circled her, staying low. Winter gave ground and caught one of them with the tip of her blade, drawing a bloody line on its flank. It yelped and retreated, but the other came in from behind, slamming into the back of her legs. She lost her balance and fell, scrabbling away on her elbows as another wolf loomed in front of her.
No sooner did she manage to focus on the yellowed fangs than the animal was gone, picked off its feet by a thrown spear. With a yell, Leti closed, driving off another wolf with rapid thrusts of her weapon. Vess came in behind her, spearing a wolf that tried to circle around. The pair of them pushed forward and closed the gap in the circle, while behind them Alex’s lances of shadow skewered the wolves that had gotten inside.
A few seconds later, and the wolves were breaking, peeling off in ones and twos and slinking into the deepening shadows. Alex blasted another one off its feet, and its pained cry spurred the rest into full flight. Between breaths, they were gone, leaving only corpses behind.
“Winter!” Leti said. “Are you hurt?”
“Fine, I think,” Winter said. Somehow.
She took Leti’s outstretched hand and hauled herself to her feet. The Haeta still maintained their circle, spearpoints raised. Abraham and Vess were working where the wolves had broken into the formation. The girl whose throat had been torn out was beyond saving, but several others were down with nasty bites to arms or legs. Winter silently thanked God once again for Abraham. Otherwise we’d be carrying them the rest of the way.
“I think,” she said slowly, “that we made it.”
“They won’t be back soon,” Leti agreed. She barked a command in Haeta, and the warriors put up their spears. Someone gave a cheer, and a few others picked it up, but the celebration seemed half-hearted. Most of the girls were either looking at the dead or staring at Alex.
Leti, though, was looking at Winter. She wiped her sword on a dead wolf and sheathed it, feeling suddenly self-conscious.
“What now?” Leti said.
Vess was looking at her, too, Winter realized. And quite a few of the others. She gave a heavy sigh.
“Make camp closer to the stream,” she said. “With a nice wide berth between us and the nearest cover, and torches for the sentries. Do what you need to do for the dead.”
Leti nodded eagerly and started giving orders in Haeta. Vess stared for a moment longer, her expression unreadable, then turned away. Alex, the black glow gone from her hands, came over to stand by Winter’s side.
“Am I cursed?” Winter said in Vordanai.
Alex seemed to understand immediately. “The curse of competence,” she said, and clapped Winter sympathetically on the shoulder.
11
Raesinia
“What about you, Prince Matthew?” Raesinia said.
“Hmm?” The prince looked up from his plate.
Raesinia gritted her teeth and tried to remind herself that throwing a bread roll at the Second Prince of Borel probably wouldn’t be diplomatically appropriate. Instead she repeated herself, a little louder.
“I asked about your interests outside court. We were discussing my readings in philosophy...”
I was, anyway. It was a bit exhausting making conversation for two.
They sat in the second prince’s private dining room, which had the same opulent-but-oppressive feel as the rest of the Keep, with a huge, dark wooden table and claw-footed leather chairs. In this case, the decor was reinforced by the attitude of the second prince himself, who was doing a very good impression of a little boy who’d been dragged to church by an overbearing parent. He picked at his food and responded mostly in monosyllables, leaving Raesinia to keep up a running monologue.
At least he was telling the truth about his chef. The food was impressive, even by the standards of the Queen of Vordan. Borelgai cuisine tended to be bland by Vordanai standards, with lots of boiled meat, vegetables, and heavy brown sauces, but whoever the second prince had hired took these pedestrian staples and made them exquisite. The main course was a steak as thick as Raesinia’s wrist, with some sort of green sprouts she didn’t recognize crisped in honey and butter, and a sauce that was—well, she didn’t know what it was, other than delicious. She’d briefly paused her one-sided conversation to devour it all. Raesinia was hardly a gourmand, but she knew when she was in the presence of a master.
Unfortunately, compliments on the cooking only got her so far in terms of filling the awkward silence, hence the attempt at soliciting something—anything—that might be of interest to the sullen prince. He looked up, frowned, and then returned his attention to dissecting his meat.
“Nothing that would interest you, I’m afraid,” he said.
“I have a very wide range of interests,” Raesinia said immediately. “I’d love to hear how you spend your time.”
“It’s... a bit embarrassing, to be honest,” the prince said. “My father reprimands me for my disreputable friends.”
“That sounds delightfully wicked,” Raesinia said.
“Nothing so entertaining,” he said. “We pass most of our time drinking and smoking. Oh, and gambling on billiards.”
“Th
at must be fascinating,” Raesinia said, seizing on the opening. “Billiards always struck me as a game of skill. There must be a great deal of strategy to it.”
“I wouldn’t know,” the prince said. “I’m terrible at it. Really, I only play to please my friends.”
Raesinia sat back in her chair, leather creaking beneath her, and admitted defeat. A few more moments passed in silence while the prince chewed, and then the door at the far end of the hall opened, admitting a pair of servants carrying delicate iced sugar confections. Dessert. Which means this ordeal is almost over.
You’d think I was the one who’d badgered him to have dinner. Despite his ambivalence on their first encounter, Second Prince Matthew had been persistent, repeating his appeal for Raesinia to dine with him until she’d run out of excuses. She’d come into the meeting ready for anything—treachery, underhanded offers, even an attempt at seduction. Instead, the prince had been morose and listless. So what’s the point? If there was a game being played here, it was a very subtle one.
The confections were as incredible as the rest of the food, literally melting on the tongue, sticky-sweet. Raesinia wondered aloud where they got the ice, but the prince only shrugged. Can he really be such a dullard? Rumor could be deceiving, of course, but what she’d heard about the prince suggested a lively if somewhat irregular mind.
Finally, Matthew announced that he was tired, and Raesinia practically bolted from the chamber. Barely and Jo were waiting in the foyer, with a couple of Life Guards. All four soldiers stood as Raesinia came in.
“Back to my chambers, please.” She turned to the servant hovering behind her. “My thanks for a lovely evening.”
The man bowed, his expression a little pained. Raesinia swept out, bodyguards at her heels, into the Keep’s endless miles of gloomy corridor.
“Did they feed you?” Raesinia said.
Jo waggled her eyebrows, and Barely patted her stomach. “Oh, yes,” she said. “Damn well. Makes up for having to make small talk with the Life Guards all evening.”
“They can’t have been worse than the prince,” Raesinia said.
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