“I know you mean well. Hence my words about not courting temptation.”
Willow scowled at him, but her heart wasn’t in it. And he was right.
Claudia was seated on the camp chair, the lines on her arms and hands dark and fading fast. “You’re not too tired, are you?” Willow asked.
Claudia shook her head. “I may ask Kerish to dowse for me, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not.” Willow heard her own words with astonishment. At what point had her feelings about Ascendant magic turned into something so casual? “I’d like you to reverse what you did first, though.”
“Afraid of temptation?” Claudia said with a smile.
“A little.” She took Claudia’s place on the stool and tilted her head toward her. “I wouldn’t actually go to the enemy camp. Soltighan’s right that I don’t have anything to offer the spies they don’t already have. But it’s hard to wait.”
Her eyes again filled with that liquid sensation that grew gradually cold until she had to blink it away. Claudia’s hands fell away from her face. She once again looked dim and shadowy. “I heard what you did to rescue Donald’s family. You have a lot to give that’s yours alone.”
“I just want Felix to be safe.”
“I know.” Claudia turned up the lantern. “I—never mind.”
“What?”
“It’s nothing. I’m glad he has you.”
It was clearly not what Claudia had meant to say, but Willow let it go. “If you want Kerish to dowse for you, we should go before it gets too late. And I haven’t had supper yet.”
“Neither have I. It had better not be those biscuits again. They tasted like chalk.”
“They’re better if you soak them with gravy. We have to win this battle tomorrow so Lord Quinn can feed us real food.”
Claudia held the tent flap for Willow. “That’s an incentive I can get behind.”
Chapter Fourteen
Willow woke from a restless sleep to hear someone clap lightly outside her tent. It was still full dark and the chirruping of insects was the only other sound she could hear. She rolled out of bed, managing not to disturb Kerish, and poked her head out through the tent flap. Soltighan stood there, fully dressed. “They’re back?” Willow said.
“With news,” said Soltighan.
“I’ll meet you at the command tent in two minutes,” Willow said.
It took her less than two minutes to dress and sprint through the camp, tripping over a guy line once and wishing she could still see in the dark. The wind was rising, drowning out the noise of the crickets and chilling her through her fleece-lined coat. She burst into the command tent and found it empty of everyone except Soltighan and the blond spy. He looked weary, but alert.
“Lieutenant Tangheli brings valuable information,” Soltighan said. “He and his fellows have discovered that the enemy forces are in two camps, one of which appears to be solely Ascendants. They are at some distance from each other.”
“Is that good?”
“It means they must coordinate their attacks with great difficulty. We do not know who is in ultimate command of the army, if one can call it that, whether it is Ascendant or soldier, but they cannot be well in accord. It is an advantage for us.” Soltighan spread a sheet of paper she recognized as some of his personal stash on the table and handed a pen to Tangheli, saying something in Eskandelic. The man saluted and began sketching. Willow resisted the urge to look over his shoulder.
When he eventually laid the pen down, Soltighan motioned to Willow to come forward. Tangheli had drawn a sketch that appeared to be the area around Kingsport, labeled in Eskandelic. Soltighan used the pen to point at various spots on the map. “Kingsport, here. The city wall, and its gates. The…I suppose we can call it the traditional army, here, and the Ascendant camp, here. We are here.” Soltighan drew an X on the last spot. It was closer to the Ascendant camp than to the other Valant army, though Willow was sure the map was not to scale.
“There are twenty-two large tents in the Ascendant camp, each marked with a different sign and shield,” Soltighan said. “So at least that many Ascendants, but I do not wish to rule out the possibility of more. Remember our first encounter with them, when one appeared to be the traveling companion of the other.”
“I agree. So you think we should focus our assault on the Ascendant camp?”
“It is best to overwhelm them before their allies can come to their aid. It is two hours before dawn. I suggest we rouse the camp and prepare for an attack as the sun rises.”
“You know best. I’ll wake Claudia and have her restore the spies’ normal vision. You start waking everyone else up. Quick breakfast, then we head out. You said five miles, right?”
“A little less, given our position relative to the Ascendant camp.”
Willow nodded. “Then we don’t have much time.”
Claudia slept in a small tent, barely big enough for two people, pitched near Willow’s much bigger one. Willow thought about going in and shaking her awake, considered what an Ascendant like Claudia might do in reaction to being wakened that way, and settled for clapping loudly outside the tent. “Who is it?” Claudia said, her voice clear for someone just woken from sleep.
“It’s Willow. The spies have returned.”
Some rustling of fabric, then Claudia emerged, fully dressed. “Will we be going into battle soon?”
“Soon enough. Dawn, or as close to it as we can manage.”
“Do you want me to fight with you?”
Willow glanced at her. She could barely see Claudia’s face in the pre-dawn light, but the woman looked alertly helpful. The memory of the dead squirrel surfaced. “Actually, I was hoping you’d look after Felix,” she said.
“Afraid of what I might do to the enemy? Or afraid I might change my mind and join them?”
She sounded amused rather than offended. Willow said, “Felix’s safety is more important than anything else. And I think you would be unstoppable if you decided to protect him. Will you take care of him?”
The amusement fell away from Claudia’s face. “I will,” she said.
Willow left Claudia at the command tent and hurried back to her own. Kerish was already awake and helping Felix dress. “Will there be a battle, Willow?” Felix asked.
“Yes, and Lady Claudia will watch out for you, so you need to do as she says,” Willow said.
“I thought you didn’t trust Ascendants,” Felix said.
“I don’t.”
“But you trust Lady Claudia.”
“I—” She had no answer for him. Was it that she saw in Claudia the woman she might have become if she hadn’t kept her inherent magic secret? A fellow inhabitant of Lower Town? Or that knowing how deadly Claudia could be made her feel, contrariwise, secure? “I trust that she cares about you and won’t let you be hurt.”
“So you don’t want me to stay with him?” Kerish said. He sounded neutral, the way he did when he was working up to being upset about something.
“I want you to stay with me. Fight by my side.”
“Oh.” He glanced at Felix, and said, “Why don’t you go see about breakfast for all of us?”
“Okay!” Felix was out the door like an arrow speeding on its way.
“Are you sure this is the smart thing to do?” Kerish said. “Claudia hasn’t done anything to lose our trust so far, but she might just be waiting for her moment.”
“I can’t believe you’re the suspicious one now.”
“Well, I’ve learned from the master.”
Willow kissed his lips, which were smiling, teasing her. “I’m proud of you. But Claudia is the most powerful Ascendant I’ve ever seen, and she’s going to be better at protecting Felix than either of us. And…I trust her. I don’t know why.”
“I hope you don’t regret it later.” Kerish kissed her, then said, “When are we moving out?”
“In about an hour. Will you be ready?”
Kerish hefted the padded leather jerkin, st
udded with freezing iron, that was most of his armor. “Always,” he said.
***
The wind continued to rise, sweeping the clouds away to reveal a blue sky in which only the brightest stars were visible. The sliver of a moon had set, and to the right, beyond the forest flanking them in the far distance, the blue had gone from being the color of Willow’s noble’s coat to the faded blue of a much-washed blanket. Peach-colored streaks outlined the tops of the fir trees, making them look even darker by comparison. If not for the wind, it would have been a beautiful morning. Not that Willow thought mornings were all that beautiful. Midnight, that was a beautiful time. Until leaving Aurilien, if Willow saw the morning, it was from the wrong side.
She hunched into her coat and patted her leg where the wand was sheathed. Its gold core warmed her leg, but it was the only part of her that was warm. She flexed her fingers to keep them mobile, since she didn’t dare wear thick gloves that would interfere with her operation of the wand. But will numb, bare fingers do you any better? She scowled and pulled her sleeves down over her fingers. Life wasn’t perfect.
At least all the walking was keeping her from freezing. They’d gone nearly four miles now, working their way around to the east. The Ascendant camp was visible in the dim morning light as a white blob against the green of the fields surrounding Kingsport. Much farther, and they’d be in a position to attack. The idea was making Willow restless, and grateful she was already moving so she didn’t have to pace.
Ahead, Soltighan and his captains, all mounted, signaled a halt. Willow ran forward, followed closely by Kerish, to stand by his side. “Is it time?” she said.
“We are waiting for full dawn, and the troops to position themselves.” Soltighan had his spyglass out and was surveying the distant camp. “You remember the disposition?”
“The archers and foot soldiers are to either flank of the Ascendant camp. They’ll attack when the wand wielders do, only we’ll drive up the middle and strike while the Ascendants are distracted. But what about the Valant army? Won’t they come after our soldiers?”
“They will be forced to maneuver around the Ascendant camp, at which point the strategy will have changed. The infantry will regroup and face them directly. Do your insurgents know when to fall back?”
“The ones who are falling back, yes.” Which meant her, to her annoyance, but she wasn’t equipped to fight face to face with someone fifty pounds heavier than her and armed with a sword. “We’re to join the archers.”
“Then you understand the tactics.”
“Enough to know my role in them.” It had surprised her to realize, back in camp, that she understood what Soltighan had in mind. Not that she thought she would ever be a military strategist, but his plan, neatly drawn out with arrows indicating movement, reminded her of making plans to rob an estate, or find the best way through some noble’s grounds into their manor. It all came down to predicting what your enemy would do. She hoped Soltighan was as good as he seemed.
“Very well,” Soltighan said. “Return to your position, and wait for my signal.”
Willow and Kerish walked back through the long, dying grass. The ground underfoot was still damp and squishy, but not enough that it would slow them as they ran. “Are you nervous?” Willow asked.
“I don’t get nervous before a fight. I don’t know why. You?”
“This is just like preparing for midnighting, except I won’t be hiding.” Willow jingled the discs in her pocket, enjoying the fizzing feeling. “I hope Lord Quinn doesn’t sit in Kingsport and wait for us to exhaust ourselves on the Valant army. It’s a possibility.”
“I don’t know if he’s that dishonorable.”
“He’s opportunistic. That’s close to dishonorable.” Willow sighed. “And yet we can’t do anything else.”
The rest of the insurgent teams, wand wielders paired with swordsmen, waited patiently where they’d left them. They looked nervous, or eager, but most of all they looked alone, as most of the foot soldiers and all of the archers had moved off into their flanking positions. Willow watched Soltighan, then turned to look at the eastern horizon. Was the enemy camp awake yet? She’d thought it made more sense to attack while they were sleeping, but Soltighan had said they would lose the advantage of being able to see and that would outweigh the benefits of taking them completely off-guard. Willow, recognizing in her plan the midnighter’s approach to things, had to agree that army thinking was different.
The horizon burned pale peach, fading to cornflower blue above. It was different from sunrise in Aurilien, which went from darkness to light with little transition between the two. Not that she’d seen many sunrises in Aurilien. This was simply beautiful.
Movement to either side startled her into turning back around. The army was moving. Her heart gave a single hard thump of excitement. With Kerish beside her, she jogged after the insurgents, keeping a steady pace. The last thing they needed was to be exhausted by the time they reached the enemy.
Ahead, the Ascendant camp grew steadily larger. Everything was silent except for the sound of feet rushing through grass and her own even breathing, maybe a little heavier than normal. The enemy couldn’t possibly still be unaware of their approach?
Distantly, she heard the wind gusting, and had barely enough time to register that it wasn’t the wind before the screaming started. Another volley of arrows went up, and suddenly the quiet camp before them was in chaos. “Be ready!” Willow screamed, but it was unnecessary, because there were figures before them, dressed in noble’s knee breeches and coats—how ridiculous for a battlefield—and fire erupted on the left flank. Willow brought her wand up, twisted the ivory cuff, and the Ascendant in front of her jerked as three other people did the same. Kerish leaped forward to impale the man, but Willow was already looking for a new target.
She lost track of time, lost track of everything except finding those beautifully dressed men and women, flicking charged motive forces in every direction and slapping new ones over the tip of her wand. Kerish’s sword ran red with blood. She dropped to the ground as a ball of red fire blasted toward her, then drained the Ascendant and watched Kerish perform his deadly dance. The Ascendants stood no chance against them.
She found herself momentarily without an opponent, in a spot free from combat somewhere in the enemy camp, and lowered her wand to catch her breath. Screams and shouts arose from all around, but where she stood was silent. “How many?” she asked Kerish, who was breathing heavily beside her.
“Four,” he said. “That you’ve drained. I’ve killed ten.”
“Ten. Is that a lot? It seems like a lot.”
Two soldiers in Valant colors charged through a gap between tents, roaring a challenge. Kerish threw himself in front of Willow, catching one sword on his own and shoving the soldier into his friend. “Go!” he shouted. “Your work is done!”
Willow stepped back, then turned and ran, cursing herself for being useless. Leaving Kerish behind to fight those men alone…and yet what could she do with her knife except be a probably fatal distraction?
She stumbled over a corpse, righted herself, and kept running. She had no idea where she was, but she could hear the sound of battle to her right and felt the earth quiver underfoot, which meant there were still Ascendants around somewhere. The camp was deserted, tent flaps flying in the rising wind that felt like it blew straight from the northern slopes of Mount Ehuren. She sheathed her wand and kept running, hoping to find her way out of the maze of tents and regain her bearings.
She caught sight of a sky pinker than the rest. East. Relieved, she turned that way and ran headlong into someone. Staggering, she stepped back and registered the black and red colors. The woman caught herself with the aid of her sword. “Running away?” she said, her breathing labored as if she’d been running for a while.
“I was going to ask you that question,” Willow said, letting her knife fall into her hand and pretending her heart wasn’t racing with more than exertion. “You’re a h
ell of a long way from the battle.”
“You think I have to explain myself to a traitor?” The woman brought her sword to the ready and approached, one slow step at a time. Willow circled around so the sun was at her back. It was one of the few things she remembered from Soltighan’s briefing: keep the sun to your back so it blinds your opponent. The woman’s eyes squinted, but aside from that, she didn’t seem discommoded. So much for that theory. At least this would put Willow facing the direction she wanted to run.
She drew the longer knife from her boot, never letting her eyes leave her opponent’s. “Your master is the traitor, and you know it. He murdered the King and tried to kill the Prince. Surrender now, and I’ll give you the chance to swear fealty to the true King.”
The soldier laughed. “You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that.” She swung her sword in a slow arc, one side to the other. “I didn’t think I’d get the chance to wet my blade with my enemy’s blood today. Guess that shows you never can tell how heaven will bless you.”
On the last two words, she closed the distance between herself and Willow. Willow barely got her knife up to block the sword in time. The clash set her teeth humming. She darted out of the way of the next blow, and the next, guided by her sense of where the sword was and where it would be next. The soldier cursed her and brought her sword around in a scything blow aimed at Willow’s stomach. Willow dodged it, then struck with her long blade, scoring a thin line across the woman’s biceps.
The soldier cursed again, then drove in for the kill. Willow dropped to her knees and rolled to one side, letting the attack pass over her. Her heart was pounding, sweat was running into her eyes despite the chill wind, and her arms were starting to ache. There was no way this fight could end well for her so long as she kept fighting a defensive battle.
She assessed the woman with her senses as well as her eyes. A chain mesh shirt under padded armor, hanging below her waist but leaving her arms bare. Leather pants and boots. No chinks that Willow could see, just the gap where her armor met her armpit. Probably too small a target. Throat, yes, but that would mean getting up close, which could get Willow killed.
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