Soltighan was approaching at speed, holding a sheet of paper crushed in one hand. He saluted Willow briefly and ignored Claudia. “Lady North, there is news. I think you should hear it in private.” His eyes flicked toward Claudia. So he wasn’t totally ignoring her.
Willow hesitated for a fraction of a moment. “Felix, why don’t you introduce Lady Claudia to Gianesh? I think he’s in the manor stables, seeing to one of the Count’s horses. I’ll join you all for dinner later.” She nodded at Claudia, who returned the gesture before following Felix away.
“Well?” Willow said.
“The command tent, first.”
They walked in silence. Willow observed Soltighan, how his shoulders were hunched and his stride rapid, and wondered what message could have disturbed him so thoroughly. Once inside the tent, he thrust the crumpled paper at Willow. “It was not addressed to you, so I thought nothing of reading it. My apologies.”
Willow smoothed it out. “It’s from Lord Quinn,” she said, startled. “But why…?”
She read further. When she got to the end, she said, “Well. That’s…interesting. What are your thoughts?”
“Lord Quinn demands we join forces with him to defeat the Ascendants plaguing County Waxwold. It is ‘demands’ that disturbs me. He is strong enough to force the issue.”
“You know that?”
“You recall I sent spies among his troops. He has been gathering soldiers for some time, I imagine, and they are well-trained.”
“But not much good against Ascendants.”
“True, but if he fights us, that will not be a problem.”
Willow crumpled the paper again. “We should do as he said he would—let the Ascendants beat him down, then swoop in and fight them when they’re weakened. But…”
“Yes?”
“But I’d rather have Lord Quinn on our side than destroyed.”
“He will make an uncomfortable ally.”
“We can handle a little discomfort. Would you find me a message rider? I’ll send a reply immediately.”
Soltighan looked skeptical, but left the tent. Willow scrounged around for paper and pen and ink, sat at the table and wrote a reply. It took her three tries to find one she was satisfied with:
To Lord Alric Quinn, Count of Waxwold, greetings from Lady Willow North, chief political adviser to King Felix Valant of Tremontane.
I have received your missive and choose to believe the language you used was a result of the dire circumstances in which you find yourself. I recall that you rejected our overtures several weeks ago, instead stating a wish to see us batter the forces of Terence Valant until we and they were both weakened, allowing you to defeat us both. Now that you are in the position you wished on us, I think you can guess what my actions will be.
You guess wrong.
King Felix will bring his forces to your aid immediately, on the condition that you swear fealty to him as your King and give up your claim to the Crown. In return, I am prepared to offer you a position within his Majesty’s government in recognition of your much desired support. We march on receipt of your response to this letter.
She thought about adding a personal note urging the man not to be a fool, but decided against antagonizing him. Instead, she signed it and marked it with the seal of her noble house, procured for her by Kerish. He delighted in building up her fictitious rank, though he rarely remembered to do the same for himself.
Soltighan returned as she was signing the letter, followed by a young man dressed haphazardly in Quinn scarlet and blue. “Not Valant colors?” Willow said. “This is an official communication.” She handed Soltighan the letter to read.
Soltighan skimmed the page, then handed it back without comment. “Lord Quinn is fighting men in Valant colors. I judged it best not to confuse the issue. And the messenger is one of Lord Quinn’s men.”
“I see. Here, boy, ride your fastest. How many days’ distance is your master’s army?”
“It will take me two days to ride it, my lady.”
“Swift travel, then.”
When the boy was gone, Willow said, “Prepare to march out in the morning.”
“You do not wish to await Lord Quinn’s reply?”
“I don’t know that he can hold out that long. Besides, if he turns down my offer, we’ll have to do as I threatened and fight him. After we destroy the Ascendants. But I hope he accepts. If he fights Felix, he’s a traitor, and will have to die a traitor’s death. I can’t imagine what will happen if Felix has to execute one of his own Counts.”
“Let us then pray to heaven that Lord Quinn is a sensible man.”
“I’ll settle for him being a pragmatic one.”
***
Claudia Lovell rode in the wagon with Felix and listened patiently to his chatter, or rode on the wagon’s seat with Willow in silence. Willow never knew what to say. Discussing Lower Town felt awkward, like comparing notes about a mutual former lover, and Willow couldn’t talk about her inherent magic—revealing that secret really was too much. So she answered the woman’s infrequent questions about their cause, and the wands, and even Eskandel.
“So your mother is the vojenta mahaut of Eskandel,” Claudia said to Kerish on the third day of their travels. It had rained during the night, and tiny droplets clung to the few brown leaves remaining on the trees. Willow ducked to avoid one of the branches and wiped a few drops out of her eyes. “Does that make you a prince?”
“It’s more accurate to say Serjian Principality is vojenta mahaut,” Kerish said, “though often the vojenta of that harem is also referred to in that way. And no, I’m not a prince. I’d have had to marry into a principality for that. I much prefer my own marriage.” He smiled at Willow, making her smile and urge the horses on a bit faster.
“Yet you’re not sworn and sealed to each other.”
“It’s complicated, because I’m a singleton with no remaining family bonds,” Willow said. “I don’t even know how to go about restoring my family bond, let alone bringing Kerish into it.”
“I don’t know the answer to that,” Claudia said, “but I’m sure someone in Aurilien does. Maybe at one of the larger bethels.”
“Which is why we’re not worrying about it yet. It’s going to be some time before we’re settled in Aurilien.” Would there be time for that before she and Kerish had to leave with Felix? They’d have to find someone to join them as a family. Maybe in Ravensholm? They had a couple of large bethels. Willow sighed. Stop thinking about it when there’s nothing you can do.
A commotion at the head of the line brought Willow’s head up. “Rider coming,” one of the captains called out. Willow waved to signal a stop.
“Lord Quinn?” she said.
“Who else could it be?” Kerish said. “Unless it’s an Ascendant, riding with news of Lord Quinn’s defeat.”
Willow stood up and swore as she brushed against a branch, which promptly shed a million raindrops all over her hat and shoulders. The road unrolled straight as a harrow through this little forest, and she had a clear view of the oncoming rider, who wasn’t slowing despite the mass of people in his way. “I’m going to the front,” she said, jumping off the wagon. Kerish immediately moved to put himself next to Felix, drawing his sword and laying it in front of him in the wagon bed. It was a dance they’d perfected over the weeks, though Willow caught a glimpse of Claudia’s determined face and guessed she’d do more to protect the boy King than either she or Kerish could.
She flexed her wrist to test the straps of her wrist knife, but left it sheathed. Mud sucked at her boots, and she resolved to make sure everyone got an extra ration of bread and beer that night. Walking in this muck had to be exhausting.
By the time she reached the front, the rider was only fifty yards away and slowing, thank heaven, because there wasn’t anywhere for the rest of them to go if he decided not to stop. Soltighan had dismounted and stood next to her. “Blue and scarlet,” he said.
“Either Lord Quinn’s sent us anoth
er message, or it’s a rout.”
“I think it likely it is a message for us. A rout would mean more soldiers fleeing the battle.”
“Good point. Hello there!” Willow stepped forward. “My name is Willow North. Do you have news of County Waxwold?”
The rider slid off his horse and landed in a squat, making the mud squelch loudly. “Lady North,” he said, “you’re the one I’m seeking.” He stood slowly, wavering on his feet, then opened a saddlebag and removed a scroll case. Willow accepted it and tipped the rolled up sheet of paper into her hand. She read it, slowly because the handwriting was spiky and cramped and hard to read.
When she was finished, she said without looking up, “How long?”
“The enemy would have reached Kingsport early this morning.”
“And you left…”
“Yesterday evening.”
“I see.” Willow stuffed the paper back into the case and handed it to Soltighan for lack of anything better to do with it. “The main body of Lord Quinn’s army engaged with Terence Valant’s troops and Ascendants at Kingsport this morning. We’re going to have to march harder if we want to reach them in time to be useful. Pass the word.”
“And if we reach them not in time?” Soltighan said.
“Then we fight a different kind of battle. But we have to try.”
She slogged back to the wagon and hopped up, kicking the soles of her boots against the wagon’s side to get some of the mud off. She relayed what she’d learned to Kerish and Claudia and added, “I think Lord Quinn is running out of hope.”
Kerish cracked the reins and the horse stepped out. “Do you think we’ll reach them in time?”
“That’s what Soltighan wondered, too. I don’t know.”
“You seem overly concerned about the fate of a man who is almost as much your enemy as Terence,” Claudia said.
“It’s because he’s only almost my enemy that it matters,” Willow said. “There’s still a chance to change that. And we need all the allies we can get.”
***
They marched all day in the drizzling rain, the mud sucking at feet and wagon wheels and hooves with an almost musical squelching. The hiss of the rain, the thud of feet striking the ground followed by an indescribable slurping sound, made for a symphony that needed only birdsong to complete it. But the birds had taken shelter from the rain, and Willow saw nothing living in the forest. Smart birds.
When the light began to dim, Soltighan rode up to the wagon. “Our scouts tell me the forest ends some mile and a half ahead. Kingsport lies five miles beyond that. I suggest we camp for the night and resume our progress in the morning.”
“But we can reach them before we lose the light.”
“Only to fight in the darkness. It is no advantage to us to do so. Better to come upon them from the rear, unaware, having rested and readied ourselves.”
“All right. Pass the word.”
“Waiting is hard,” Kerish said when Soltighan had gone. “But he’s right.”
“I know.” Willow cracked the reins, not that the horses had anywhere to go with the riders blocking the road in front of her. “This is our first real battle.”
“They’ve all been real battles, Willow.”
“Then the biggest one. I’m anxious for us to meet the enemy, see if we really can take down dozens of Ascendants.”
“We don’t know how many Ascendants there are. It might not be dozens.”
“That seems like something we ought to know.”
When they emerged from the forest and found a camp site, Willow left Kerish and Gianesh erecting the tent and went in search of Soltighan. “I think your spies need a workout,” she said without preamble.
“You mean in the Ascendants’ camp.” Soltighan looked grave. “I am concerned about sending them where their presence may be perceived by magic. Our strategy for the morn involves our army coming upon them while they are preoccupied with attacking the city. Giving ourselves away…”
“They won’t look like anything but soldiers to the Ascendants, assuming they have anyone with sensory powers,” Claudia said. Willow startled. She hadn’t heard the woman come up behind her. “Sorry to eavesdrop, but I guessed what you had in mind and had an idea you might be interested in.”
“What’s that?”
Claudia adjusted her hat, making it drip down her back instead of her front. “I’m capable of making your spies able to see in the dark. It’s not quite as good as seeing in daylight, and they have to be careful of bright lights, but it will give them an edge in the darkness.”
“You want my men to subject themselves to magic?” Soltighan was trying to sound merely curious, but there was a note of fear in his voice.
“It’s not dangerous so long as they return before dawn to have it reversed.”
“Soltighan, I think it’s a good idea,” Willow said. “And I’ll be the first to try it, so they can see there’s no harm in it.”
“You cannot go with them, Lady North,” Soltighan said, investing the last two words with heavy meaning.
“But I—”
“Your knowledge of cities is uncanny, but you know nothing of infiltrating an enemy camp. And your value as the King’s adviser is far greater. You will stay here.”
“I’m your commanding officer, Captain Takjashi.” But it came out weak, uncertain. Everything in her cried out for action, but…he was right. “Fine. I’ll stay here. But I still volunteer to have Claudia work her magic on me. I want to know what it’s like.”
She waited in the command tent with Claudia while Soltighan gathered his spies, ten men who moved as if they were shadows themselves. He gave them their instructions in Eskandelic, but Willow could still see the moment when he told them about the magic; every one of them drew in a surprised breath, sounding like wind sighing through the tent. Soltighan said a few more words, and they all turned to look at Claudia, who smiled in a friendly and non-threatening way. It didn’t seem to have much effect on the spies, who started talking in the liquid Eskandelic language that sounded like a recurrence of the rain that had stopped falling fifteen minutes before.
Soltighan let them talk for a bit, then overrode them in a loud, forceful voice. Then he added, “Lady North will show you it is not to fear. You have sworn to follow where she leads, yes?”
The murmuring subsided. “Just sit there,” Claudia said, taking two steps to stand in front of Willow. Willow gulped. Suddenly it didn’t seem like such a small thing anymore. She clasped her hands in her lap to keep from fidgeting and raised her head to look Claudia in the eye. Claudia’s clear gray eyes were tinged with purple, a reflection of the magic rising up along her arms. She took Willow’s head in her hands, with the tips of her forefingers resting at the corners of Willow’s eyes and her thumbs pressing against her cheekbones.
“Turn down the lantern,” Claudia said. Someone adjusted the wick so the tent was dim and full of human shadows. The spies moved restlessly until Soltighan spat out a few words, then they went still as only experienced hunters can. Willow noted all of this with the rational part of her brain. The irrational part, the one that would jump at shadows if she didn’t have it so securely leashed, registered how cold Claudia’s fingers were, how their touch tingled like brass. She blinked, and Claudia said, “Try not to do that.”
Then she felt warmth spreading along Claudia’s fingers, not the burning of gold but the delicate heat of sun-warmed skin against skin. Her eyes felt moist, as if she were crying, though no tears fell. Claudia’s face, which was cast into shadow by the lantern, gradually came into focus until Willow could see her clearly. She was mostly gray, and the contours of her face were slightly fuzzy, like a wool blanket seen up close, but she was perfectly visible, down to the half-smile that looked to Willow like pride and amusement. She removed her fingers from Willow’s face and said, “Well?”
“It’s amazing. I can see you perfectly—well, not perfectly, but as if it were an overcast day.” Willow stood and turned to fa
ce the spies. “It doesn’t hurt. And it’s not dangerous.”
The murmuring began again, and one of the spies, a short man with dark blond hair like Willow’s own and brown skin that to Willow’s dark-adjusted eyes looked dusted with ash, said, “It strange is, that you ask us this to do.”
“Try, and see,” Willow said, offering him her chair. He sat, hesitantly, but let Claudia rest her hands on his face. Willow couldn’t see any changes in him, but after a moment, his breathing changed, and he said something in Eskandelic that sounded astonished. His fellow spies erupted into loud argument, and he shut them up with a word. Then he stood, and pointed at one of them, gesturing at the seat.
Willow stepped outside the tent while the rest of them underwent Claudia’s treatment. The sky was still overcast, but the moon wouldn’t be more than a sliver tonight anyway. The lanterns hanging at intervals from the tents were painful blobs of light she had to avoid looking at, but aside from that, the camp was as clearly lit as if it were morning. She could see the individual trees of the forest they’d left behind. Astonishing.
Men began emerging from the command tent, this time in perfect silence. They nodded at Willow as they passed, and she saw one wince and concluded he’d learned the lesson about not looking at the lights directly. In minutes they were gone, and the quiet noises of the camp settling down to sleep were all she could hear.
“Did you let her do it to you?” she asked Soltighan, who’d come to stand by her side.
“I am not so brave,” Soltighan said with a smile. “And I judged the lady to be near the end of her magic. I did not think she should waste it on me.”
“That’s sensible.”
“And now you will have Lady Claudia reverse the procedure.”
“I’m sort of enjoying it.”
“I think you should not court temptation, when this gives you such an advantage in moving freely at night. I will not be the one to tell your husband you have left the camp.”
Willow sighed. “I do have self-control, you know.”
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