Estral pinned her harp brooch to Rennard’s tunic. “There, that should do it.”
“You honor me,” he said with a bow. “But is it not too much?”
The brooch represented her affiliation with Selium as a minstrel. It was all she had, but she would not tell him that. “May it bring you success.”
He bowed again, this time with a kiss to her hand, and when he turned to prepare for departure, his back was maybe a little straighter, his chin up. Karigan had been right—who was she to deny a soldier going off to battle some small token of esteem? When he came back safe and sound, that would be soon enough to break his heart.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the king slip into Enver’s tent. Karigan had not awakened to see him off, so he must be making a farewell of his own. When this was all over and they returned to Sacor City, it would also be a return to reality, and she grieved for her friend. Grieved for both of them.
Her father came to her, and she helped clasp the gray and green cloak the River Unit had given him over his shoulder. Under a matching tunic he wore a breastplate. He bore a helm beneath his arm.
“You will give Karigan her saber back when she awakens, won’t you?” he asked. “The longsword Captain Treman has lent me is much more suitable for what lies ahead.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “I’d find it much more suitable if you weren’t going with them.”
He tugged gloves on and flexed his fingers. “I should not worry. I will be in the rear, with the king and his guard. I aim to get my hands on Lala and bring her back so you can regain your voice.”
“I’d rather have you. We’ve only just found you. Besides, didn’t Captain Treman say it appeared there was an exodus of civilians from the forest?”
“For the first, you will have both. For the second, even on the off-chance that Lala is there, I am going.”
Despite his brave words and outward lack of fear, she was afraid. No matter how many times he had left on his far-ranging wanderings, no matter how many dangers he’d faced before, this was different. This was purposely walking into a situation where the object was to kill or be killed.
“I would be content to live without my voice if only you would stay,” she said.
“When you have your voice back,” he replied, “you can berate me, call me names if you like, tell me how angry you are about this mess I got caught up in. We must not forget this is bigger than the both of us. Didn’t you just tell me a little while ago that your singing was helping with the mending of the D’Yer Wall?”
She nodded. How selfish she must sound.
“For now,” he continued, “I am doing my part, just as the king is, just as young Rennard and so many others are.”
“You’ve already done your part,” she whispered, tears threatening.
He held her close. “I am very proud of the woman you have become, first traveling to the D’Yer Wall to help there, and then coming north to find me. I know it is not your natural inclination to do such things, but you’ve been very brave.” He stepped back, his hands on her shoulders. “In fact, Rider Oldbrine is riding not just with messages for the queen from the king, but with one from me to go to Selium, to Dean Crosley and your masters. In my message, I have explained to them that you have exceeded the requirements for your master’s knot.”
Estral’s mouth dropped open. “I—I haven’t even been thinking about that.”
“I know, which makes it all the more deserving. You had passed all your tests and just needed the travel portion of the requirements to achieve master. I believe the experiences you’ve had, true life experiences, have more than met expectations. I am proud of you, and love you, daughter mine. You are a true Fiori.”
They hugged again, she now overwhelmed by the significance of what he had done. Being raised to master would be life changing. She could be the teacher she’d always wanted to be. But first, there was the wall . . .
“Thank you,” she said.
He grinned. “It is the best part of my position, you know, raising journeymen to masters. But now, as your father, I must ask what is this between you and Rennard? He is wearing your brooch. I thought you were rather serious with Alton D’Yer.”
He’d heard? Of course he had.
She glanced at Rennard who was in deep conversation with some of his soldiers.
“I, uh . . . Alton and I . . .” This was, it turned out, awkward to explain to her father. “I love Alton,” she said finally. “But Rennard seems to like me, and he wanted a token. Karigan said I should give him something since he is going into battle.”
“Ah. Karigan has grown very wise, and that was kind of you. Either man would be a fine match for you, and I think your mother would agree.”
“Father . . .” Her cheeks warmed.
He grinned again. “Now that all is settled, it appears it is time to go—they are waiting for me. I’ll be back soon.”
He turned and strode toward those who awaited him, and she watched as they departed, stepping through the illusion that protected the campsite. As dusk deepened, she realized she had failed to tell him that she loved him, too.
Into the evening dark, Zachary trotted with the others over the uncertain terrain, relying on perceptions other than sight to sense his footing. They had departed the campsite at dusk to allow their vision to adjust to nightfall, but without moonlight, it was impossible to make out all the details of the rocky plain. The soldiers were forbidden to use light of any kind since this was to be a mission of stealth. Any armor was shrouded beneath tunics, and bucklers held only dull finishes. This was not the River Unit’s first night raid, and its soldiers moved with catlike assurance through the dark.
Fiori breathed hard beside him, but his long legs helped him keep up. Zachary, while not breathing as hard, was pressed to maintain his position, for he had not quite recovered from all he had endured as a captive. The soldiers were younger than he and Fiori, as well, but Treman, who was of an age, did not labor at all and, in fact, had increased his speed to move among the ranks.
Donal ran a few yards ahead, and Rye took up the rear. Rennard held a position to his right. The soldiers were spread out and silent, so it was difficult to make out their positions. Zachary knew he was somewhere in the hindmost ranks—Treman, his Weapons, and Fiori had insisted. Enver, in contrast, had been enjoined by the captain to move with the forward scouts to help pick out and disable traps.
The order to walk came down the line. After a time, they’d pick up the pace again. It would go on like this until they entered the forest. It was impressive that no one had turned an ankle or worse on the uneven landscape.
He caught his breath as they trudged on, his hand wrapped around the hilt of Karigan’s sword, reassured by its weight at his hip. He considered it a token, much as that of the harp brooch Estral had given Rennard to wear. He was sorry Karigan had not awakened in time to see them off, though it might be for the better. Such partings were not easy. He had not dared interrupt her slumber. She was, Enver had told him, making up for the poor rest she’d endured until now, which she dearly needed if her wounds were to heal properly. When he thought no one was paying attention, he had stolen into the tent and knelt beside her. In the dim glow of a moonstone, he saw her face was peaceful, her breathing deep and regular. She looked much more herself, but he was not deceived, for he had seen her wounds.
Brave lady, he had once called her, and it was still apt, a thousand times over. How much could she give of herself? He would do her sacrifices honor in battle. He had kissed her cheek light as a feather so as not to disturb her. She did not stir, and he backed out of the tent in silence.
Stars winked in a vast array over the plain, though was that a cloud bank rolling in from the north? The night had turned sharp and biting, as though winter threatened to make a resurgence—not uncommon for the north in the early spring. As he gazed at the stars, he wondered, as he often did, if the gods resided among them, or if the stars were simply gaseous bodies as the star masters said. In any case, he would not rely on the unknowable, but on the leadership and skill of the River Unit and the steel of their blades.
“I should have listened to my daughter,” Fiori said in an almost-whisper, though unnecessary chatter was forbidden.
“How so?”
“She asked me not to do this. Said she’d only just found me.” He chuckled. “She was onto something—I’m getting too old for such adventures.”
Fiori was considerably older than he appeared, and it was said that his unnatural appearance of youth was due to his Eletian blood.
“You could head back,” he replied.
He perceived, more than saw, Fiori shaking his head. “I’ve come too far. Got to see it through. Most of all, I’ve got to find Lala so Estral can have her voice back.”
The order was passed back to pick up the pace once more. As they ran, the darkness of the Lone Forest ahead blotted out the stars on the forward horizon. Their approach went on like this, walking, then running, and then taking short rests to drink water or to eat some small provision to maintain their stamina. When the Lone Forest loomed just ahead and its verdant scent drifted to them, they halted and a runner came back to confer with Rennard, then hurried back the way he had come, disappearing into the dark.
“What is it?” Zachary asked.
“Our lead scouts have been clearing the way, and first ranks have entered the wood and engaged the enemy,” Rennard explained. “Second Empire’s soldiers have helped to make targets of themselves for our archers by keeping watch fires. We will advance after second and third ranks.”
There would not be much left for him to do, Zachary thought in disappointment, but then he recalled how wily their enemy was. Outside the forest, it was difficult to believe there was a battle going on, for the night remained quiet, but for the scuff of boots on stone, and someone coughing in the distance. He paced in impatience, waiting for the order to move. When finally he entered the forest, he would take on Second Empire however he could, and cut off its head.