Sharon Shinn - Reader And Raelynx

Amalie spoke softly. “Let them finish the day’s fighting first.” She pointed at the messenger. “You will stay with me until my commanders gather tonight, and you will repeat your news. Justin, thank you for bringing him to me. You may return to battle.”

Justin hesitated. “Majesty-I cannot leave him here with you unguarded. He says he has brought news of a fresh invasion, but perhaps he has a secret mission, and that is to do harm to you.”

“I didn’t! No! I wouldn’t!” the messenger cried, instantly alarmed.

“I don’t think so,” Cammon said.

Amalie just smiled and gestured toward the raelynx, who was sitting quietly nearby, its dark eyes fixed on the newcomer. “I’m not undefended,” she said. “Cammon has a sword, and the raelynx is close by. I’m not afraid.”

Kirra laughed and clapped Justin on the back. “Replaced by a mystic and a cat,” she crowed. “A bad day for a Rider!”

Justin merely bowed, his fist against his shoulder. “Majesty,” he said, “I return to fight where I will do the most good.”

ROMARand Kiernan read the situation much as Kirra had-a canny ploy by Gregory Tilton to prove his worth to both sides of the warring factions.

“I despise him, but I admire his strategy,” Kiernan said calmly once the messenger had been dismissed. “This bit of information will keep us from dispossessing him as a traitor if we manage to beat back our enemies and win the war.”

“Which seems even unlikelier, given this news,” Senneth said. Cammon thought she looked even more exhausted tonight. She had managed to throw and sustain fire several times these past three days, effectively cutting off pockets of enemy troops, but Arberharst soldiers remained on the front lines and made it impossible for her to simply hold back the entire advancing army with a wall of flame.

“I had wondered why Rayson Fortunalt recruited so few foreigners,” Tayse said in his serious way. He ignored Senneth’s “So few ?” and added, “He knew they would be most effective against us. He would have been justified in pouring all his resources into hiring those fighters. He was smart to hire another thousand men.”

“Let’s spend less time applauding Rayson’s clever investment of gold and more time determining how we can block this new army,” Kiernan said.

Tayse shrugged. “Unless we can spare forces to meet them somewhere north of Ghosenhall, I don’t know that there is any plan we can make,” he said. “And I don’t think we have the soldiers to send.”

“No,” Romar said. He looked angry and trapped-not yet beaten, but staring straight at the possibility of defeat. This is how the ending begins, he was thinking. “Well, we thought they would start with a frontal assault, and then, once we were worn down, try a few tricks,” he said. “I suppose that is what has started now.”

“So then we must be on the alert for more maneuvers,” Kiernan said.

Romar nodded wearily. “I suppose we must.” He hauled himself to his feet. “Rest while we can. Make ourselves strong to fight another day.”

It was a plan that Cammon heartily approved. He was not successful in keeping Amalie away from the wounded that night, but he did coax her back to the pavilion before she had used up all her strength. Even when they had blown out all the candles and curled up together in bed, he could see the faint luster of her hair.

“You’re alight with magic,” he observed, smoothing down the stray strands.

She laughed sleepily. “And prickly with it,” she agreed. “My skin feels like it’s crackling-like I’m standing too close to a fire.”

“Do you like it now?” he asked. “Your magic? You were afraid of it before.”

He felt the nod of her head against the pillow. “I like it so much! Because I can do things with it-things I want to do, good things.”

“You haven’t been singing the songs Ellynor taught you to honor the Silver Lady,” he observed.

“I’ve been afraid to, with Coralinda Gisseltess so close,” she confessed. “Maybe the Pale Mother will hear me but help her.”

“I’m sure the Lestra is offering up plenty of prayers of her own,” he said dryly.

“But I have prayed to her,” Amalie said hesitantly. “At night. Silently. And when we’ve walked through the rows of wounded soldiers. I’ve asked for her blessing. I think she can hear me-at any rate, sometimes I feel as if someone is peering over my shoulder, smiling when I get something right. I don’t know. Maybe it’s my imagination.” He heard the smile in her voice. “Maybe it’s you that I feel.”

“But maybe it’s the goddess,” he said. “I hope so. I hope she is watching over you. I hope she is watching over all of us.”

Amalie fell asleep almost instantly. Cammon, who had trained himself to stay awake as long as she did, just in case she needed him, tumbled into sleep right after her. But even his dreams were not restful these days. It was harder to keep his mental shields up while he was sleeping, and so he was plagued by the unrelenting misery of the wounded men. Images of warfare clattered through his mind. He relived again and again the striking blow, the falling sword, the moment’s inattention that had resulted in a blade through the leg, or the ribs, or the throat.

It was almost a relief to startle awake, still in the dead of night, and lift his head and wonder what cue had alerted him that something was wrong.

No sound broke the silence immediately outside the tent. All the souls that Cammon had a particular interest in lay quietly sleeping. He pushed his attention outward, searching for trouble, wondering what spike of violence or fear had ripped through his slumbering mind and jerked him awake.

There. A slow creeping movement, coming closer. A single soldier, dispatched on a dangerous mission, harboring a steady murderous intent in his heart. It was hard to judge distance, but Cammon thought the man had made it about halfway through the royal camp.

An assassin. Heading for Amalie.

Cammon gathered his energy to send an urgent summons to Tayse-but the message went unsent. He became aware of a second stealthy presence, just as intent, just as lethal, prowling through the sleeping rows of soldiers. It moved soundlessly and with a primitive joy, and it was stalking the intruder.

The raelynx.

Relaxing a little, Cammon covered Amalie’s mouth and shook her awake. She immediately opened her eyes and rolled over to look at him. When he pulled back his hand she mouthed, “What’s wrong?”

“Just wait,” he whispered.

Another few moments they lay there, tense with listening, hearing nothing but silence and their own breathing. Then an unearthly scream split the night-an inhuman sound from a human mouth-and suddenly the whole camp was clattering with the sounds of soldiers jumping to arms.

“What was that?” Amalie demanded.

“Assassin. Raelynx,” Cammon answered succinctly.

Amalie pushed herself upright. “Senneth will be here in a second.”

“Tayse first.”

“Then I’d better get dressed.”

She had no time. That instant, Tayse ripped back the tent flap and bounded in. “Majesty? Cammon?” He was naked except for his trousers. In the faint moonlight, Cammon could just see the gleam of an upraised sword in his hand.

“I’m fine,” Amalie answered. “Apparently the raelynx caught an intruder.”

Senneth hurried into the tent, and all the candles instantly winked to life. Her hair was wild, but otherwise she appeared calm. Tayse looked like avenging death, but his expression was beginning to smooth back to normal. Outside the tent, Cammon could hear Justin shouting questions and commands.