It took almost two hours for Zelroth and his company to reach their camp. Lady Ayana of Argent rode close behind, followed by her brunette aide and the two soldiers, possibly from the Black Citadel itself. A formidable group indeed.

Zelroth was fortunate to have made it back with his neck intact. And judging from their rigid faces, even his men seemed pretty shaken up by the encounter. He needed a word with the Commander about sending him on his “diplomatic” assignments.

Zelrine was better suited for this job. She had a way of befriending women, even the not so friendly ones.

The sun had reached the apex when the labyrinth of trees parted to reveal a large clearing littered with tents and half doused fires. Most of his unit lazed and grovelled in the grass, scattered about like victims of a windstorm.

Zalmer and Cain stood beside the tethered steeds.

“Welcome back, Captain,” Cain said. “I see you succeeded.”

Zelroth sighed. “You can say that.” He jumped down from his saddle and gestured at one of the unconscious men. “What’s wrong with these idiots?”

“The ‘crates of weapons’ from North Warren turned out to be barrels of ale from Appleby,” Cain said, a wide grin plastered on his face.

“I don’t think their condition will improve any time soon.” Zalmer sighed. “Just our luck these spineless newbies got assigned to our unit.”

“As if my pride hasn’t been dragged through the dirt already,” Zelroth muttered, trying not to clench his jaw.

“We didn’t think you’d return this soon, Captain, or we would’ve dumped them in a brook.” Cain exchanged a smirk with Zalmer.

Zelroth glanced warily in Ayana’s direction. “Be careful around the Argentians,” he said in a lowered voice. “I almost lost Kaigner and Hart.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice, Captain,” Zalmer replied. “I ain’t that eager to end up a bloodbag myself.”

“Wake these slobbering fools,” Zelroth said, his annoyance brimming to the surface. “The Commander doesn’t tolerate tardiness. I’m in enough trouble as it is.”

“Yes, Captain.” Cain strode around, shouting at his companions and kicking them awake. Most of them grumbled unintelligibly and rolled over.

Zelroth waited impatiently as the sober ones gathered around him, awaiting his orders. He sent three of them to scout their path, and the others to stow the tents and prepare the horses.

“Where are they headed?” asked a sharp voice behind him.

Zelroth whipped around and saw the woman from Lady Ayana’s escort staring down at him. Such posture and grace. She was no ordinary aide. And her steed was as noiseless as a stalking predator!

“They are lookouts,” Zelroth replied, steadying his nerves. “We have to keep an eye out for the Empire’s patrols.”

She gave a nonchalant nod, throwing a worried glance at Lady Ayana, who was conversing with one of his men. He saw doubt and distaste in her eyes as she scanned the clearing. The lifeless morons were still rolling around on the ground.

What remained of his pride evaporated with a scornful sniff from the aide. Perhaps bringing them to the camp hadn’t been such a good idea after all. Her black horse shuffled its hooves and flicked its tail, nostrils flaring as it tasted the heavy air.

“Magnificent beast,” Zelroth commented, gesturing at the thoroughbred. Anything to distract her from the pitiful state of his unit. “What’s his name?”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Stormrider.”

She tensed, eyes darting toward the trees. Her horse shook its mane, a nervous snicker vibrating through its muzzle. He followed her gaze, moments before a masked man rode into the clearing, drawing all their attention.

He jumped down from his saddle and strode toward Zelroth, his brown cloak trailing behind him. His wary eyes cast a brief glance at the aide before turning to him.

“Captain,” he said, giving him a nod of acknowledgment.

Zelroth recognized that voice. “Halvin! How did you find us?”

“I might as well have been tracking a rampaging boar,” he replied. “Never mind that. There are more pressing matters. Lady Iowen of the Imperial Guard was sighted at Caarn. I heard she joined forces with a company of soldiers from North Warren.” He jerked his chin at Lady Ayana. “She’s in danger.”

“In that case, we can’t stay in one place for long,” Zelroth replied. “Head to Theos. I want a false trail leading to the port of Duan. You know what to do.”

Halvin gave a curt nod before climbing back onto his saddle. Without a backward glance, he took off at a trot into the green depths. The thudding hoof-beats gradually faded as the underbrush closed around him.

Lady Ayana’s aide raised an eyebrow. “Who was it?”

“One of our spies from North Warren,” Zelroth answered, looking up at her. “We have to leave now. Inform your mistress. Lady Iowen is one adversary we need to avoid at all costs.”

~•~•~•~•~

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