Jon Sprunk - Shadow's master

Captain Drathan and his men fanned out around the hilltop. Brian dismounted when he saw Josey and made a small bow. “Majesty, I apologize if I spoke poorly before.”

“You were out of line,” she answered, perhaps a bit too sharply. But he deserves it.

“Yes, I was. I hope this can make up for my lack of manners.”

He held up a dagger. Silver wire wrapped around its handle, curling down to a wide guard. The wooden scabbard was almost as long as her forearm.

Is this a joke? “A knife, Sir Brian?”

“When knights ride in tourney, it is customary to wear the token of their ladies. But I would not presume to ask for your favor. Instead, I give you my token to wear, if you will. For luck.”

He drew the dagger. The fading sunlight caught the blade's milky gray steel. “This dagger was one of twelve forged at the order of King Guldrien of Aquidon and given to his Knights Brethren before they rode for the last time.”

Josey knew the story of King Guldrien and the Knights Brethren, how the doomed monarch and his loyal companions rode out to meet the might of the fledgling Nimean Empire, and died for their bravery. Afterward, Nimea had absorbed Aquidon and divided it into the provinces of…

Aquos and Farridon. Oh, dear gods. In an instant, Josey understood how she had mismanaged her dealings with Brian's father and Count Sarrow. All this time she had been treating them like just another pair of squabbling nobles, forgetting the history of these northern provinces. “Brian, your father and the count don't care about water rights or boundaries, do they?”

Brian's eyes were splinters of blue steel as he sighed. “Now that the empire is fraught with turmoil, they both dream of breaking away and restoring the old kingdom of Aquidon. Only they cannot agree which of them should rule. Forgive me, Majesty. Though I do not share my father's dream, I could not bring myself to betray him.”

Josey took the dagger, which was lighter than she anticipated. “You didn't betray him. He is your lord and father.”

“He is a traitor.”

“I will consider what's to be done with him, but I still have every faith in you.” Josey sheathed the dagger with reverence. “As for this, I will wear it proudly.”

“Then I will ride to battle with a glad-”

A horn blared, and Josey's throat closed up. Down below, soldiers rushed to their positions along the trench and officers shouted. She followed their pointing fingers across the field. At first she couldn't see anything in the gathering twilight. Then a line of shapes emerged from the dusk. Men and horses, they came by the scores and then the hundreds. Fingers of dread clutched Josey's insides as the invading host grew before her eyes. There had to be several thousand, at least. And she had what? Five hundred if she counted Therbold and Sarrow's militiamen?

“God's breath,” Brian whispered.

“Is there…?” She was afraid to ask. “Do we have any chance to win?”

She expected a bold statement of valor and bravado. Instead, Brian replied, “I must get to my unit.”

He leapt to his horse and galloped down the hill. Josey held the dagger to her chest as the horde drew nearer. She tried to imagine what it must be like for her soldiers, standing shoulder to shoulder, watching the inexorable advance of your enemy. Wondering if you were going to live to see tomorrow. Josey wished she could slow down time, or speed it up.

“War is mostly waiting, followed by moments of blind terror.”

She looked over her shoulder as Hirsch slid down from his little mare. “Is that supposed to be a warning, Master Hirsch? You should know by now that a few words aren't enough to frighten me away.”

The adept harrumphed. “Indeed I do, lass. Even when those words are true. What's that?”

Josey held up the dagger Brian had given to her. “It's nothing. Just a memento. For luck.”

The adept looked down over the crest of the hill. The enemy was closer, and with every step their numbers seemed to swell, like a black tide washing over the field.

“Gods protect us,” she whispered.

Hirsch nodded as he drew his hood down over his eyes. “Aye, lass. That about sums it up.”

Remnants of a nightmare sifted through Caim's head as he awoke. He had been running across an endless field, with ferocious creatures snapping at his heels. Kit was there, too, running with him. Or maybe it had been Josey.

He started to get up, until a sharp twinge ripped across his lower back. Caim sighed and took it slow. He had no idea what time it was. Without sun or moon to guide him, the hours blurred together. The campfire had burned down to a nest of red cinders. Dray and Malig were both asleep. Caim wanted to kick them awake. He'd told them before he closed his eyes to each take a watch, and wake him for the third spot. Caim looked around for Egil, but then remembered the guide's fate. Was he still alive?

“You sleep uneasily.” Shikari sat with her legs folded. She had been quiet on the trail yesterday, hardly speaking to anyone, not even her guardian. Caim glanced over at Hoek, sprawled out across the hard ground behind her. They didn't act like lovers, but the giant never left her side. “A victim of restless dreams?”

Caim picked up a stick of firewood and fed it to the flames. “I could do with a comfortable bed in a warm inn, if that's what you mean.”

“I understand. But it's not the cold that bothers you, is it? What do you plan to do when you reach Erebus?”

Caim had considered that. At night, when he lay down to sleep and the darkness surrounded him, he imagined what he might find in the north and how he could hope to pick up a trail gone cold for almost two decades. “I won't know till I get there.”

“Your foe from the ruins will likely be there, too. Yes? And perhaps more like him. A great many enemies for three men to face alone.”

“Whatever point you're trying to make, just say it.”

“Only that we could be of assistance.”

“It's probably best if we drop you and your man off at the next spot of civilization.”

She favored him with a smile that showed off her perfect, small, white teeth. “This far north? You aren't likely to find any civilization. Not until you come to your destination. And I see the hunger in your eyes.”

Caim shifted his weight. This woman had bothered him since the day they'd met. For an escaped slave stranded in the wastes, she was strikingly confident. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“A power dwells inside you. It is in the way you move, the way you kill, in the violence of your sleep. I have seen it's like before. Some of the asherjhag are workers of miracles. When they call to the dark, the dark listens.”

Caim patted his back where his knives rested. “My only tricks are with these.”

“I think not.” She tilted her head. Her hair gleamed with a rich luster even in the gloam. “You feel the pull of unseen tides. If you listen hard enough, you will hear their whisper.”

Caim thought of the pulling. It was still there, tugging in the back of his head, so much a part of him now. North, it whispered to him. Always north. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“The power.” Shikari indicated the fire between them. “The priests say it is like this flame. It must be fed or it will starve. You've been feeling ill of late, yes? Weaker?”

Caim gritted his teeth so hard the muscles in his jaws threatened to pop. The woman's guesses hit too close to home. In his mind he saw himself hunched over her, his mouth pressed to her neck, sipping her blood….

Caim got to his feet. “Wake your friend. We leave as soon as we've eaten.”

His hands shook as he walked away, so hard he had to clench them into tight fists within his gloves. He wanted to gut someone and watch their life drain into the snow. Stop it! Forget her. She doesn't know anything about me. But as he gathered his gear and went to feed the horses, the woman's words followed him.