Moonlight glinted off a dozen blades, surrounding Mac.
Shit.
“You’re out numbered,” said the soldier Mac had disarmed.
Mac shrugged. “Not a problem.”
The soldier snorted. “Not even you can defeat all of us.”
“You really want to kill a national hero?”
The man glanced at the others beside him. Guess he hadn’t thought of that.
“If it comes to me or you. . . .” He almost seemed apologetic.
“I get it.” What a pathetic way to meet his end. Although Harcourt hadn’t said kill him. Just stake him out and break his legs. Not an impossible situation. He’d faced worst. Of course that had been years ago, when he healed better.
“How about we make a deal,” said Mac.
The tip of the man’s sword dipped a little. He inched closer. “What kind of a deal?”
“I’ll go without a fight if you promise not to break my legs.”
The man glanced at the others. They didn’t meet his gaze, no one willing to agree to the terms and face Harcourt’s wrath.
Someone shoved through the crowd. “What is everyone standing around here for?” It was Aric. Mac had seen him around camp, but Aric had refused to talk to him or even make eye contact. From the look of it, Aric had been given a promotion. But for what, Mac couldn’t tell. “Take Theselon and stake him over there.”
The closest men reached for Mac’s sword.
Damn he hated being out numbered. But better captured than dead.
The thought left a bad taste in his mouth, but he forced himself to relinquish the weapon and let them lead him to a rise overlooking the plain. They pounded stakes into the hard earth and bound his arms and legs to them.
How humiliating. At least he was still alive. And alive meant a way out. Really.
Aric turned to the soldiers. “Don’t just stand there. We engage the clansmen tomorrow. Go get ready.”
The soldiers hesitated.
“Harcourt said to break his legs.”
“That he did,” said Aric. “I’ll do it myself.”
The group turned and fled, leaving him alone with Aric.
Mac flexed his wrist, testing his bonds.
“I doubt you’ll be able to work yourself free.” Aric knelt beside him.
“You do know the clansmen aren’t responsible for what happened at Mythnar.”
Aric snorted. But Mac didn’t know if he believed or not.
A breeze swept up the plain, carrying the hint of wood fire from the clansmen’s camp.
“Aric.”
Aric pursed his lips.
Mac’s gut churned. In the moonlight it was impossible to read the soldier’s expression, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t like what he saw.
Aric stood. “I swore allegiance to my Prince.”
A shiver swept over Mac and he resisted the urge to ask, which one. “Just let me go.”
Aric stared down at him, turning his sword around and around in his hands.
“Come with me.”
“I can’t.” He raised his blade.
Mac tensed. Harcourt had said break his legs, not cut them off.
Moonlight flashed along the blade. It swept down. Mac ground his teeth.
And Aric sliced through the rope binding Mac’s right hand to the stake.
Mac jerked over and fought with the knot binding his other hand.
Aric turned away.
“Come with me,” said Mac.
“I can’t.”
“He’ll kill you when he finds out you let me go.” Mac untied his left hand.
“He doesn’t have to know.”
Mac sat up. “He might be mad, but he’s not stupid.”
“I can’t. I thought–”
“You thought what? That what happened in Mythnar was justified?” Mac tugged at the knot binding his leg.
“I just–”
“Ancient Father! Has everyone lost their mind?” He freed his leg and turned to the other one.
“I was following orders.”
“Orders?”
“That’s what soldiers do.”
Mac released his other leg. “So what’s this? Certainly not as ordered.”
“No.”
Mac stood and grabbed Aric’s arm. “So come with me.”
“I–”
“For the sake of all that’s good!”
Aric’s gaze darted around the plain. “Wyndham and Kaelyn escaped.”
“What?” Thank the Father.
Aric yanked his arm free. “They’ll tell you.” He scrambled away into the darkness, away from Harcourt’s camp but not toward the clans.
#
Talar pulled his borrowed cloak tighter about him. The plain was quiet. On the other side, in the mouth of the pass of Gentle Crossings, the fires from the Meriduinian army twinkled in the darkness. A breeze rippled through the grass, carrying the chill from the mountain’s peak. Gerid stirred the grass beside him as he shifted positions yet again.
“Can’t southerners sit still?”
“We usually have chairs, like civilized people,” said Gerid.
Talar snorted and looked back across the plain. In the distance, the massive shadow of the Halyn Mountains thrust from the earth in tall, jagged spires.
Meriduin had made no attempt to hide or disguise their forces. They’d crested the rise yesterday at mid-morning and made camp. The impending battle was imminent. Somehow, his father had convinced the Divine Voice to seek negotiations and three warriors had been sent.
They hadn’t returned.
Talar ripped a handful of grass out beside him. His thoughts drifted to Kaelyn as they had over the past days, again and again. He didn’t want to think of her, and yet he couldn’t help it. The tattoos around his wrists burned now, a constant ache. Even his Tree of Life smoldered along the left side of his body. He’d failed her. Failed the mission his Goddess had assigned him that he didn’t even know about.
And beyond his Goddess’s burning reminder, was a pain around his heart. Deeper and different from his Tree of Life. His heart tattoo hadn’t been started and never would be finished. His flesh was icy within the naked circle but inside he burned.
Something thumped and someone cursed. Talar froze, scanning the darkness. He couldn’t see anything.
The man cursed again, damning the Ancient Father and his graces.
“You are a ways from your camp, southerner,” said Talar, reaching for his sword.
“Stop playing omniscient clansman, Talar, and help me,” said a gruff voice. It sounded like Mac.
Talar glanced at Gerid who shrugged.
“It would help,” said Talar, “if you stood up.”
“What? You can’t find me if I sit here?”
“No.”
Mac snorted. “Looks like I’m not the only one who’s lost his night sight. We’ve spent too much time in the south.”
Talar bit back a retort. Night sight had been worth the sacrifice. At least, at the time, he’d thought it had.
Mac stood near a sharp thrust of rock, just one of the many dotting the plain.
“What are you doing here?” asked Gerid.
“Ramming my shins against these great northern rocks,” said Mac.
“Well, stumble to your right, you old fool,” said Talar. “Then it’s grass all the way up the slope.”
Mac’s shadow disappeared behind the outcropping then reappeared to the right of it.
Talar rushed to his side. “Are you all right?”
Mac nodded.
“Where’s Kae–” Goddess, he didn’t want to ask, but he couldn’t help himself.
“I don’t know. Aric said she and Wyndham escaped Mythnar.”
Talar’s heart skipped a beat. She was safe. With Wyndham.
“We have to get to the elders,” said Mac. “Harcourt plans to attack in the morning.”
