— 33 —

It was still dark when Tharin and Porion woke them, but Tobin felt the flutter of a dawn breeze through the open window. No one was bragging as they dressed. Tobin’s eyes met Ki’s as his friend helped him into his hauberk, and he saw his own excitement and fear mirrored there. By the time he’d pulled the surcoat on he was sweating.

As they turned to go he saw that Korin was wearing the horse amulet he’d made for him, and a new one Tobin hadn’t seen before.

“What’s this?” he asked, leaning in for a closer look. It was a pretty piece, a polished lozenge of horn set in gold.

“A luck piece Father gave me,” Korin said, kissing it.

For the first time in a long time, Tobin felt a pang of longing and envy. What would his father have said to him, or given him, before his first battle?

There was no sign of breakfast in the hall. Children and animals watched from the shadows as they clattered down to the yard. Ki’s three older brothers were waiting for them out in the close, and Ahra and her riders were with them. From the looks of their clothes they’d ridden all night to get here and had only just made it. A girl of twelve or so, barefoot and dressed in a ragged, mud-spattered tunic sat an equally muddy horse beside Ahra. Both dismounted to hug Ki, then Ahra bowed deeply to Korin and Tobin. “Forgive me being late, my princes. Father sent Korli here after me but she was delayed on the road.”

“’Pologies, Yer Highness,” the girl mumbled shyly, dropping them an awkward curtsy. “Hullo, Ki!”

Ki gave her a quick kiss.

Tobin studied her with interest, for Korli looked the most like Ki of anyone he’d seen here. She had his dark good looks, and gave Tobin a hint of the same buck-toothed smile when she saw him looking.

“Is she your full sister?” he asked as Ki went to saddle their horses. It seemed odd he’d never mentioned her.

“Korli? No, she’s one of the bastards.” He paused, giving her a second look. “Huh. She’s sure grown.”

“She looks like you.”

“Think so?” He strode off in the direction of the stable.

Surprised by this casual dismissal, Tobin stole another look at the girl. Korli was slighter than Ki, but she had the same brown eyes and soft, straight hair, and the same smooth, golden skin. Her features were a little rounder, a bit softer…

Like my other face looked in the pool.

A chill ran up Tobin’s spine and he turned away quickly, feeling like he’d seen a ghost.

Ahra had twenty riders with her, as hard-bitten a lot as any he’d seen, and at least a third of them were women. Most of the men with them were getting old or were very young; the best fighters were off in the regular regiments. As he turned to look for Ki, one of the boys gave him a quick secretive wave. Tobin hesitated, thinking he’d misunderstood, but the boy signaled him again. Intrigued, Tobin wandered over.

He was beardless, no older than Tobin, and the face that showed under the helmet and warrior braids was smudged with dirt. Something about his eyes was familiar, though, and judging by the grin he was giving him now, he thought he knew Tobin.

“Don’t you know me, Yer Highness?”

It wasn’t a boy at all.

Tobin’s heart leaped as he followed her behind a hayrick. “Una. it’s you!”

She pulled off the helmet and shook the hair back from her face. “Yes! I didn’t want to chance Korin and the others seeing me, but I knew you’d keep my secret.”

Tobin hardly recognized the highborn girl he’d known. She wore the scarred armor of a common soldier, but the sword at her hip was a fine one of old design.

“Your grandmother’s?” he guessed.

“Told you I’d carry it one day. I just didn’t think it would be so soon. And I bet you never thought I’d see battle before you, either.”

“No! What are you doing here?”

“Where’d you think I’d go, after all Ki’s stories?”

“I don’t know. We—Ki and I—we were afraid that—” He swallowed the words, not wanting to admit aloud what he and Ki had only speculated on in whispers, that the king had murdered her. “Well, damn, I’m just glad you’re here! Have you killed your first man yet?”

“Yes. You were a good teacher.” She hesitated, looking him in the eye. “You don’t hate me, then?”

“Why would I hate you?”

“It was all my idea, training the girls. Father said you were in awful trouble for doing it, and I heard Arengil was sent back to Aurënen because of it.”

“Of course I don’t hate you. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Mount up!” Korin called.

Tobin took her hand in the warrior’s grip. “Sakor’s Flame, Una. I’ll tell Ki!”

Una grinned and saluted him. “I’ll be at your back, my prince.”

They made a brave show, riding out past the torches with their banners. They carried no lights. Innis and Ahra took the lead, guiding them up the valley as the stars slowly faded. Amin and Dimias rode with them, and Tobin couldn’t help admiring the easy way they sat their mounts. Tharin and Captain Melnoth brought up the rear.

After a few miles they left the road and took off across country through stubbled fields and wooded copses still wreathed in chill mist. They reached the first hamlet while it was still too dark to make out much more than a few thatched roofs over the top of the log palisade. As they came closer, however, they caught a familiar smell; it was the ash and burned pork reek of the pyre fields near Ero.

“Bandits?” asked Korin.

“No,” Ahra replied. “Plague took this one.”

A few miles farther on, however, they came to the remains of one that had been burned by bandits. The sky had gone from indigo to grey, light enough for Tobin to see the broken black stump of a stone chimney and a wooden doll floating in a ditch.

“This happened a few weeks back,” Innis told them. “The men was killed and left, but there weren’t a women or girl to be found among ’em.”

“They’re setting up good and solid if they took the girls,” said Tharin, shaking his head. “How much farther?”

Innis pointed toward the wooded hills ahead, where a few thin columns of smoke could be seen rising above the trees.

Tobin imagined the captured women making breakfast there and shuddered.

“Don’t worry, we’ll bring the women back safely,” Korin was saying.

Innis shrugged. “Not much point now, is there?”

“Ruined goods, are they? You’d just leave ’em, would you?” Ahra growled.

Innis jerked his thumb back at the ruined houses. “Naught to come back to.”

Scowling, Ahra took the lead and they turned west, following a game track into the forest.

“Not a word, anyone. Pass it back,” she whispered. Then, to Korin and the others just behind her, “Keep your weapons from rattling if you can. It’s a few miles yet, but no sense giving them any warning if they have sentries posted.”

Everyone checked their scabbards and bows. Tobin leaned down and tucked the loose end of Gosi’s girth strap under the edge of his saddle, holding it in with his thigh. Beside him, Ki did the same on Dragon.

The sun was just coming up over the valley but it was still almost night dark in the trees. Old firs towered around them, and the rocky ground was strewn with fallen trees.

“Not good ground for a mounted charge, is it?” Korin said softly to Ahra.

“No, but good for ambush. Shall I send lookouts?”

“We’ll go!” Dimias offered.

But Ahra shook her head and sent off two of her own people.

Tobin sat straighter in the saddle, scanning the shadows for signs of sentries. He wasn’t scared, exactly, but it felt like there was an empty space under his heart.

Looking around, he guessed the others were feeling it, too. Korin’s face was set in a grim mask under his helm, and Tanil was counting the arrows in his quiver. Glancing back, he saw the others all making last checks, or watching the woods nervously. Ki caught Tobin’s eye and grinned. Was Una scared, Tobin wondered, or did your first battle cure you of it? He wished he’d had time to ask her.

They’d gone less than a mile into the forest, steadily climbing, when Ki caught the scent of cooking fires. The air was damp and it carried the smoke low through the trees. Soon they could see wisps of it curling just below the dripping roof of branches. He began scanning the trees more carefully, unable to shake off the image of sharp eyes watching him down the length of an arrow shaft.

But nothing happened. The only sounds were the soft thud of hooves on moss and the waking calls of the birds.

They reached a clearing and dismounted. The officers and Companions gathered around Ahra while the squires took charge of the horses.

“Not much farther,” she whispered, gesturing to where the track continued out the eastern side. “The camp is less than half a mile that way, down in a little dell.”

All eyes turned to Korin. He conferred briefly with Ahra and the captains. “Well, Tobin, you’re in charge here with your guard. Nik, Lutha, Quirion, you’re with them.” Quirion started to protest but Korin ignored him. “You’ll hold our flank. I’ll send a runner back for you if we need you.”

“You two stay with them,” Ahra told her brothers. “You know the lay of the land up here, in case they need a guide.”

Korin pulled at his new amulet, then glanced at Porion, who gave him a nod. “That’s it, then. Swords out, and follow me.”

“The lookouts, my prince. Shouldn’t we wait to hear back from them?” Ahra asked.

“We’re already later than I meant to be.” Korin cast an eye up at the brightening sky. “If they’ve gotten themselves lost, we’ll give up any chance we had of surprise. Come on.”

He waved his sword in a great circle and the rest of the company fell in behind him.

“Well, you heard him,” whispered Tobin as the sound of their horses faded away through the trees.

The squires and Tharin’s men strung tether lines between several trees and set about securing their horses.

“Running knots, boys,” Tharin called softly, undoing a tight knot Ruan had made. “We want to be able to get loose in a hurry if we have to.”

Then there was nothing to do but wait. And listen. There was no real reason to stand at attention, but no one sat. Hands on their sword hilts or tucked into their belts, the Companions stood in a loose circle, watching the path. Some of Tharin’s men spread out, patrolling the edges of the clearing.

“It’s the waiting gets under your skin,” Amin muttered.

“How many raids have you been on?” asked Lutha.

Amin’s cocksure demeanor gave way to a sheepish grin. “Well, only two with real fighting, but we done a lot of waiting!”

The sun was just showing over the tops of the trees when they heard the first distant shouts.

Tharin climbed onto a large boulder by the trail mouth and listened for a moment, then smiled. “From the sound of it, I’d say they caught them by surprise after all.”

“Be all over ’fore we get anywhere near it,” Amin grumbled. “Why don’t the runner come?”

The distant shouting continued, but a breeze came up and the sigh of it in the branches drowned it out. Tharin stayed on his rock, watching the path like a hound waiting for its master’s return.

He was the first to fall.