Chris Evans - A Darkness Forged in Fire

"Then fix it," the Prince said.

"Fix it, sir? I didn't bring any paving stones with me."

The Prince frowned and stood in his stirrups, pulling a highly polished brass telescope from a leather holder strapped to his saddle. The royal cipher was emblazoned on the main tube in skillfully inlaid onyx and ivory and tiny rubies. He opened it to its full length and held it up to his eye like a captain at sea. Perhaps the river beside them was giving him delusions of nautical grandeur.

"The witch turned night into day-surely she can do something about this mud. And tell her to be quick about it. We are losing valuable time." He sat back down, sending a spray of water from his saddle.

Konowa started to say Visyna would never agree to it, even if she was so inclined, as it seemed an impossible thing, but held his tongue. She had turned night into day, and his father had once slowed a waterfall long enough to allow an elf of the Long Watch to drag an uprooted sapling to safety before it plummeted over the edge.

"Today, Major," the prince snapped. "Nothing is more important than securing the Star."

"As is keeping it out of the Shadow Monarch's hands and putting down the rebellion," Konowa added.

The Prince waved the thought away like an annoying fly. "Yes, of course. Deprived of the Star, the rebellion will founder and die, and the Shadow Monarch will have lost Her chance." He suddenly slapped his thigh and sat up straighter in the saddle. "And I will have saved Elfkyna in the bargain. This is perfect. Major, we must make all possible haste."

"Yes, sir," Konowa said, touching his heels to Zwindarra's flanks and setting out at a trot back along the column in search of Visyna.

No one called out to him as he rode by. It would have been simple to believe that it was the rain and exhaustion that kept their heads down, but he knew news of the rebellion had spread among them like wildfire. The pretense that they were going to relieve a garrison manning a tiny mud fort in the middle of nowhere-the regiment led by the very Prince of the realm-was too much for even the dimmest of them to believe. And now that they knew a full-scale rebellion was in the offing, they also knew that their prospect of ever seeing home and hearth again had fallen through the ground, along with their morale. Whether the Prince liked it or not, the troops would have to be told the truth, at least most of it.

He spotted Jir first, loping alongside Rallie's wagon. The bengar was covered from head to paw in mud, but didn't seem the least bit concerned by it, nor by the numerous bushes and plants that went unmarked as he passed by. The reason perched on top of the canvas-covered wagon dozing in the rain.

Wobbly appeared to be sleeping it off in the most precarious of positions, teetering forward as if he was about to pitch over and then righting himself with the next sway of the wagon. Jir mirrored each movement, no doubt hoping for an easy lunch. Konowa hoped the pelican had better balance sober than drunk. He'd watched the bird's graceless landing and immediately sympathized with it. He knew what it was like to be a moose among deer.

He whistled at Jir, who turned his head for a moment, then went back to watching the pelican. Be that way, Konowa thought, slowing Zwindarra to a trot as he came up to the wagon. Visyna sat beside Rallie on the front bench, the two involved in yet another conversation. He reined in Zwindarra and had him walk alongside, deliberately choosing Rallie's side of the wagon. The horse didn't seem the least bit disturbed by the brindos this time, even reaching out his muzzle to sniff at the closest brindo, which flapped its ears in response.

"And what brings you back our way, Major?" Rallie asked. She smiled at him, and he smiled back. Visyna, wrapped in a green cloak with the hood pulled up over her head, did not bother to look at him.

Women.

"In light of your recent news, the Prince thinks we need to make all haste to Luuguth Jor. For once, I am in complete agreement with him." He waited, but Visyna continued to look straight ahead. "The Prince has asked, and I know it sounds silly, but he has asked if Miss Tekoy might use her powers to assist the regiment in making better time."

Visyna finally turned to look at him, pulling down the hood of her cloak. He'd expected anger and was surprised to see a thoughtful expression on her face.

"What did he have in mind?"

Konowa looked at Rallie, who looked back at him with a knowing smile. "His Highness has asked if it would be possible to dry the ground underfoot so that we might increase our pace. You know, firm it up a bit so the slogging isn't so tough."

"All right," Visyna said.

Konowa had already prepared a comeback and was left momentarily speechless. She had an uncanny ability to catch him off guard. He didn't know why, but he found it more attractive than her looks, as stunning as they were. "I'm sorry?"

"I said I'll do it," she said, calmly crossing her arms and staring at him. "For once, we are all in agreement. The sooner we arrive at Luuguth Jor, the better. However," she said, smiling at him, "I will need assistance."

"Absolutely," Konowa said, smiling broadly. Now why couldn't the two of us get along like this all the time? he wondered, ignoring the multiple reasons that suddenly sprang to mind. "Just tell me what you need and you will have it."

"You."

"Now wait just one min-"

"Do you want to get to Luuguth Jor quickly or not?" Visyna asked, making as if to pull the hood of her cloak back up.

"All right, all right, I'll help, but I'm not doing anything…strange."

"This is not a carnival trick. Rallie, please stop the wagon," Visyna said.

Konowa reined in Zwindarra, who took the opportunity to sniff the brindo a little more thoroughly.

While the brindo and horse were getting acquainted, Visyna hopped down from the wagon and stood in the mud. The last platoon of soldiers marched by, eyeing them curiously, but again, none called out. A pall had settled over the entire regiment and everyone feared to speak loudly. In moments, they were alone as the soldiers struggled through the mud ahead of them.

"So what do you need me to do exactly?" Konowa asked, trying to be helpful.

Visyna took a few deep breaths and closed her eyes. "Hold me."

Konowa's heart sped up. "Hold you?"

"Hold me."

"You want me to hold you?"

"You were in the forest a very long time, weren't you?" Rallie asked, her smile as wicked as a newly sharpened blade.

Visyna stamped her foot. "We are losing time. Now get off that horse and get over here and hold me."

Konowa kicked his feet out of the stirrups and jumped off Zwindarra, tossing the reins up to Rallie, who tied them off to the wagon. He walked over to Visyna, still waiting for the catch.

"Stand behind me, and hold me around the middle. Whatever you do, don't let go."

Konowa stopped just in front of her. "Look, I know we haven't-"

Visyna grabbed him by the hand and pulled him around behind her. "What I need at the moment is your strength. What the Prince asks will require more skeins than I can weave on my own. Now, hold me, and do not let go."

Konowa looked up at Rallie, who was clearly enjoying this. He shrugged and did as Visyna asked, wrapping his arms around her. Her hair danced in front of his mouth. With each breath he let out the temptation to smell it threatened to overwhelm the real reason he held her in his arms.

"No, not like this. I can feel it even now. You must remove it," Visyna said, pulling away from his grasp. "I cannot do this with that thing touching me."

"Look, if this is all some kind of elaborate game to get me to get rid of it you can just forget it," he said. His hand reached instinctively for the pouch.

Visyna raised her hands. "I give you my word you can have it back when we're done. Give it to Rallie if you like, but you must remove it if this is to work."