"We're going to war for him?" Keelie was standing in front of Arynn, hands on his hips and his eyebrows drawn. He hadn't been present at the meeting with Geoffrey, but he did know the outcome. It was safe to say that he didn't exactly agree with her decision. "He's the enemy, Arynn! What were you thinking?"

Arynn barely looked up from the topographic map on the desk, and moved a piece closer to the hill. She was trying to come up with battle plans that wouldn't cost her a lot of soldiers. So far, she hadn't been successful. She moved the same piece a few paces to the right, frowned and said, "The fact that they're stationed on a hill puts us at a disadvantage."

"ARRYN," yelled Keelie, to get her attention.

She startled and knocked the piece over. Annoyed, she asked, "What do you want?" She cleared the board again, and started all over. There were two pieces on the side of the board, with each piece symbolizing a cohort. Each cohort consisted of five-hundred men, which were then divided into five centuries of a hundred each. A thousand would be enough to take the Palace, she'd told August, her second-in-command.

"Why are we fighting Etrion's wars for them?" He demanded.

Arynn set down the last piece on the crest of the hill, and raised her eyes to his. "This isn't a war, Keelie. We're simply being neighbourly and helping them take back the Palace and their army—by killing some of the soldiers in the process. And also, we're not doing it for free." She measured the space between the first piece and the hill, and nodded. This was the best they could do.

Keelie dropped into one of the chairs in front of the desk, his leg slung over the side. "What will you get out of it? A crown? Need I remind you that you are a warrior and not a zefrim (queen)?" He ignored the glare Arynn sent him and ran a hand through his hair. He yelped as it snagged on a tangle and yanked it out.

She rolled her eyes and turned away from him, grabbing the leather baldric that hung over the back of her chair. It held throwing stars and daggers, all made of a shining silver metal that glowed white in the candlelight. "Need I remind you that I don't have to explain myself and motives to anyone? Be a good boy and tell the centurions to rally the troops."

He dropped his foot to the floor beside the other, and sat up straighter. "The troops already know that we march at dawn. They're breaking down the tents to set up camp inside the ward once we've taken the castle. The centurions are discussing their plans as we speak. We'll be ready to leave within the space of two to three hours."

Arynn raised an eyebrow, and asked, "We? Who said you were going anywhere? You're staying right here with the veterans and the smiths. Someone needs to take care of the Nest while I'm away." She didn't want him to march yet; he was too young, too gentle. There was still a playful light inside him that burned bright; a light that had long since winked out in her. She wanted to keep him from it for as long as she could.

"Why are you so against me joining you in battle? I'm ready. I've been training for months, and I've improved tremendously. Let me fight beside you—who knows when the next battle will come along?"

She took a dagger from the baldric and turned it over between her fingers, carefully and skilfully avoiding the sharp edge. She balanced the blade on her finger, placing it close to the hilt. "You're not ready to see battle, Keelie. You don't even know how to properly wield a sword. I know that you're skilled with a bow, but I don't need archers to take the palace. Do you really think you can step onto a battlefield if you can only work a bow? What will you do if a soldier runs up to you with a sword pressed to your throat? Will you level an arrow at his head?"

Keelie's expression turned sour at her words. "You can't keep me here, Arynn. The centurions said I'm ready—said I can march with the cohorts."

"Yes, well , you're not their responsibility, Keelie. They can say whatever they like, but in the end, my decision is final. You will not see a battlefield any day of your life, if it's up to me. You can train all you want, beg all you want. It's not happening."

"But it's not up to you. I don't care about what you decide. I'm marching tomorrow, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

Something cold and heavy unfurled in her stomach at his words. He was stubborn and wouldn't listen to reason. He had it from her, she realized. She wondered if her mentors had felt like this when she'd been his age and gone head to head with them over every single thing. She almost regretted making their life difficult. She knew that she couldn't decide this for him, couldn't control every aspect of his life. His life—if anything were to happen to him... Arynn couldn't even finish the thought.

Her eyes shuttered. "Fine," she said, "March with the cohorts or ride with the horsemen. Do whatever you want. I can't decide whether you stay or go, but I can do this. I'm confining you to the temporary camp on the other side of the plain. If you want to see battle, you can do so from afar."

There was a single knock on the door before he could object. The heavy oak doors swung open, revealing August, a man as dark as the night and the size of a bull, dressed in scaled black armour that looked like hers. There was a black silk patch over his left eye, covering the savage scar he'd received in battle, when his eyes had been cut out of his skull.

"The horses have been saddled," he said as he stayed in the doorway, knowing that he'd interrupted an important conversation. His good eye landed on the blade in her hand and then cut to Keelie's clenched jaws. "I do hope this isn't what I think it's about."

Keelie immediately said, "She's being an overprotective mother hen," at the same time she said, "Keelie's being stubborn." They glowered at each other, Arynn's hand wrapping tighter around the hilt of the dagger. She turned her face to August, expression tight, and said, "We've reached a compromise. He'll go along with us, but stay far away from the actual battle. He's not allowed to leave the camp on the other side of the plain until we've taken the palace."

August nodded once and then threw a look over his shoulder to answer the person behind him. The slight turn of his rib cage made the candlelight catch the engravings on his breastplate. It was the Tohari royal family's crest, a Damask rose in full bloom, with the head of a serpent visible through the thorns. After a moment, he turned to Keelie and said, "Be glad of her protectiveness, pup. She doesn't care that much about anything other than you." Keelie's eyes lowered to his lap. And to Arynn, August said, "It's time."

Her horse was saddled when she, August and Keelie reached the Nest's ward, which doubled as a training field. There was a very dark stain on the cobblestone ground, where Arynn's nose had once bled during a brawl. She pressed her finger to the small scar on the side of her nose and mounted her horse. Her eyes wandered to the horizon, which was rapidly turning gray in the early hours of the morning.

She was stroking his mane when the sound of hooves sounded behind her. August came to a stop at her side, the reigns gripped loosely in his hands. The helmet he wore covered his shaved head and cheeks with little scales, all gleaming in the watery lighting. He turned his face to her, the silk patch barely visible through the visors. With his good eye pinned on her, he asked, "Why are you so against the boy fighting in battle? He's been ready for months."

"He's only thirteen," she answered as she gave a slight tug on her own reigns. The horse neighed and thudded his hooves on the stones.

The man snorted. "Your defence is dropping to age. You were twelve when you first saw war, and here you are, alive and well. The well part is questionable after everything you've seen and been through, but you're still here. What makes you think that he won't be?"

Her face tightened as her eyes stung, the heavy feeling of dread weighing down like a stone in her stomach. With a thickening throat, she said, "He was only five when I found him. It was when Roven tried to take Toharia. He walked straight to me while I was fighting off two of Roven's soldiers. I'm still not sure why he did that." She paused. "I—I found him in battle, August. I won't lose him to one."

Keelie had been a chink in her armour ever since she'd taken him back to the Nest with her, and most of her enemies knew that. He would be safe if he remained at the Nest; the guards would protect him while she was gone. The same could not be said for the places they would be going, as the Nest's safety and protection would not extend past its walls. With a sullen face, she gave the order to march, and said a silent farewell to her home.

5OJ