"Mommu Sang to me today."

Sarpanit looked up, after sealing the wooden crate shut and neatly labelling it with the names of the contents. "Did he, now?"

"He said he and Enlil have a plan." Tia grunted as she lifted one of the heavier boxes of bandages and swabs. She turned her head, looking for the relevant crate, and spotted it at the far end of the room. "They are planning to meet up with us." She slid the heavy goods onto the ground with another grunt.

"And what have you told him of Gwent's plans?"

"Nothing; I only told him that we are also preparing to retaliate."

Sarpanit was silent as Tia climbed on the worktop again and reached up for the extra padding and tape. She stood carefully on the tip of her right foot, her left stretched out behind her to maintain her balance. Collecting her target, she hopped down, dumping it into the first crate.

"Why hasn't he contacted you before this?"

"I told you." Tia shrugged. "He said he is having difficulty remaining undetected. He said the Mawlinese are still everywhere, searching for him. I think they still know he is alive."

"I'm sure they do." Sarpanit's voice was stony.

"And he cannot flee to Gwent because he will not leave Enlil, and Enlil will not abandon the freed slaves."

"And what does Mawlin have in mind?"

"Mommu said their Caster predicts a sandstorm coming and they will use that to invade Gwent via the Nabudice Desert in the north, with the sand as its cover–"

Tia's relay was interrupted by a bark of incredulous laughter.

"What?" She stared.

"You really have no idea?" The princess raised her eyebrows. "You really don't! The Nabudice Desert is a hopeless stretch of barren land – I suppose you were too exhausted to notice. There is nothing there. You can see Mawlin from Sciennes and that's a good three days' ride from the border. The only plausible route is via Ptarmigan Fortress and Elder Down."

"I am only telling you what Mommu said."

"Mawlin cannot invade us from that route; we'll see them from miles away."

"I am only telling you what Mommu said!" Tia repeated, jutting her chin out. "I believe in him."

Sarpanit was quiet for several seconds.

"I'll relay your message to Papa," she said with finality. "I only hope you're not mistaken."

"You doubt me?" Tia said, defensive. The older girl shook her head, an unreadable expression on her heart-shaped face.

****

They were prepared. Gwent lacked resources; that much had been clear from the start. However, looking at the hundreds of thousands of men clad in leather armour, swords, bows, and shields in their arms, Tia couldn't help but feel awed by the unity before her.  What they lacked in power, they made up for in numbers. What they lacked in resources, they made up for with faith and determination. Every able man had volunteered himself to become a soldier, although some had to grudgingly accept their roles as messengers, couriers, stock-watchers, and lookouts instead. Even the children were prepared, although Lahar was reluctant to make any youngster fight unless it was necessary – to the indignation of many a youngster.

"Should we older men fall, we have to rely upon you to carry on the legacy and run Gwent," he said gently to another protest. "When we fight, the country rests in your hands and the hands of other young men. We all have our roles to play."

The boy, who looked the same age as Tia, nodded and scuttled back to his mother obediently, joining the big group of non-soldiers seeing the men off. They were to follow at the back, looking after the food and armoury supplies. Sarpanit was with the other healers, overlooking the distribution of medication across the squads.

Tia swallowed.  She was not part of any team; she was the Windcaster. Her only job was to anticipate the actions of Mawlin's Windcaster and negate his Wind advantages.

It hadn't been easy. She Heard every few hours, attempting to gauge the flow of the Wind and attempted to perceive any manipulation at the hands of a Caster. Sensing had only told her what she knew: Dernexes was demoralised and kicked to the ground, and Mawlin was basking with bloodlust.

Hearing in an attempt to forecast ahead gave her little result; Kishar the wood smith had made her an excellent new staff, blessed with a new Gwentian stone on top of her own Wind gem. The mystical wood had a pink tinge to it. The coral-coloured smooth stone sat within the purple twist of metal that folded into the top of the staff, giving off a warm glow. Tia wasn't sure if it had heightened her powers, but she was able to sense the sandstorm Mommu had spoken about, that Mawlin was going to use to mask their troops when crossing the Nabudice Desert. The songs in the air sounded coarse, loud, and rugged. She shivered. She had never seen a sandstorm either, but it felt every bit as unforgiving as the snowstorm from a few days ago; its volume drowned out everything else.

It was so surreal. They were going to war. People were going to kill each other. And she was going to have an active role.

She gripped her staff tighter.

Standing on the outskirts of Sciennes, the Sentry City  of Gwent, all she could see was an endless stretch of sand before her. Light brown, endless shades of light brown, stretched to the horizon, which was just about covered by a fluffy mass of more light brown.

Likely the beginning of the storm, thought Tia, her gaze fixated in the distance. Even in the past few minutes, the songs had grown louder and more aggressive. All around her, the Gwentians bustled. The soldiers were in place. Each of the leaders in charge of their squad was sitting upon their carriers; the thick, leather material of their outfits was well-worn. The weapons fitted like a glove in the soldiers' hands.

Sciennes was essentially a city built behind an endless great wall. Defendable, although its walls were close to collapse, and allowed lookouts to be stationed at towers all along the borders. All of its occupants had joined the army, along with many other cities in the vicinity. At that moment, a messenger ran up to Lahar; the little boy was no more than ten, his cheeks pink and his hair windswept. Bright blue eyes gazed urgently up at the king.

"What is it?" Lahar asked, alarmed.

"Sir, a group has just been spotted moving in from the northwest," he said, straightening up and pointing to Tia's right. A ripple of shock coursed through the people around them. The faces of the Gwentians were suddenly anxious, all of them looking at Lahar, whose face had drained of blood. His deep blue eyes followed the little boy's pointing hand.  "Over four hundred thousand men!"

Tia's heart skipped a beat.

"They're striking early? Not from the north?" he gasped. Sarpanit appeared at his side, no doubt having heard the ground-breaking message. "How far away are they?"

"About ten miles away–"

"Your source was a trap!" shouted Sarpanit, grabbing Tia by the elbow and wrenching her round, her face whiter than her healer's tunic. Tia stared in shocked silence back at the older girl. Sarpanit's blue eyes were ablaze and her hands trembled as she shook Tia, hard. Tia's head flopped like a ragdoll's. "I told you!"

"Wh-what?"

"The message was a decoy! They were planning to invade from Ptarmigan Fortress all along–"

"Calm down, Sarpanit," Lahar said, a warning in his voice, which was steady despite his pallor.

"I told you there was no way they could have come by the Nabudice Desert!" she shouted, this time at her father. "You wouldn't listen to me! I told you it couldn't be trusted!"

Tia's mouth opened and shut without a word. All around them, the nervous chatter had dwindled to a shocked silence.

"How do you mean?" Tia whispered.

"Mommu!" Sarpanit said with a vicious scowl, her face contorted in anger. "Your precious Mommu! The information he told us were lies!"

"N-no!" Tia shook her head. "He will not lie! Why do you doubt me?"

"Not you!" was the scornful, furious reply. "You are so stupid, Tiamat! There are only two Windcasters left – and you've given all our information to the other side! Don't you see?" Sarpanit's next words hit Tia like a ton of rocks. "Mommu is the Windcaster traitor!"