***
“The monastery lies not two miles from here,” the Balorite scout reported, his face still covered in a mix of green and brown face paint.
Father Faedan, the cultist leader, smiled widely. “It seems you were right, General.”
Andar Bremen nodded and squinted off deeper into the forest. They had been traveling for four days now since meeting up with Veltar’s supporters, and he was surprised they had covered the distance this quickly. Their prey had outpaced them rather rapidly, but fortunately they had come to a complete stop yesterday. Now, at long last, his forces had once again closed the gap. All that remained was a final strike and the Kirshal would finally be theirs.
“How good of a look did you get at the structure?” Major Thorne asked from his side.
“Good enough,” the scout reported. “It’s large—probably fifty yards to a side—but it’s only one story. It couldn’t tell if it went deeper underground or not.”
“Entrances?”
“Two, one in the front and another smaller entrance by a stable on the western side. If there were others, they were well concealed. I also spotted two separate scouts, but they weren’t being very discreet about it.”
Faedan snorted. “I doubt they’re used to getting visitors.”
“We’ll still have to deal with them before moving any closer,” Thorne said. “You’re certain you weren’t spotted?”
The man tossed her an annoyed glare. “Of course not.”
“They may be decoys,” Bremen said, eyes narrowing. “Rook knows he was being chased, and he won’t believe we gave up.”
“Does it really matter?” Faedan asked. “We can move in and crush them at our leisure.”
Bremen raised an eyebrow. “And when they spot our approach and go to ground, what then?”
“As long as you can track her, we will find her eventually.”
“The chase ends here, Father,” Bremen told him. “We do this right, and we finish the job. Get me your best scouts. We’ll send them ahead and have them clear a path.”
The man shrugged. It was clear he had no military expertise whatsoever, but fortunately it was just as clear that Veltar had ordered him to follow Bremen’s lead. For the moment, that was good enough.
“As you wish. I assume you have a plan for the actual assault.”
“Nothing complicated. For now, get me those scouts. We attack tonight.”
Faedan nodded. “Very well, General.”
He walked off to speak to his men, and Bremen took a deep breath once it was just he and Thorne again.
“What I wouldn’t give for a real army,” she muttered, glaring at the cluster of Balorite soldiers behind them.
“Their blades are sharp, and they had enough discipline to make it this far,” Bremen said. “It could be worse.”
“They’re also fanatics. Do you really trust them to follow orders in the heat of battle?”
He shook his head. “No, and that’s why I plan to keep things as simple as possible. Assuming the monks don’t know we’re coming, we have sufficient forces to surround the building before we strike. It should be enough.”
She swiveled her gaze to follow his out deeper into the forest. “And if it isn’t?”
“The Kirshane are our enemies regardless, and Veltar is convinced they will have useful information.” He turned towards her. “But I don’t intend to fail. This time the two of us will make certain of it personally.”
For the first time in many days, Thorne smiled. “It’s about time.”
“Yes,” Bremen said softly, hand curling around the handle of his sword. “It is.”
The Last Goddess Page 54