Karien they might be, but Damin held no personal grudge against them. They all seemed woefully young and inexperienced to him. The oldest of them could not have been more than twenty. He prayed fervently that R'shiel did not expect him to slaughter these children in cold blood.
“What are we waiting for?”
Adrina rode up beside him with her slave close behind. She was wrapped in a warm cloak against the cold and looked anxious to get moving. She had been remarkably quiet since their conversation on the edge of the camp this morning. That worried Damin a little. She was undoubtedly plotting something and it probably involved him and a lot of blood. He should have kept his big mouth shut.
“We're waiting for R'shiel, I think. And for the Defenders to move out.”
“Where is the demon child, anyway?”
Damin shrugged. “Nobody's seen her for hours.”
Adrina looked at the nervous Kariens. They had been pushed into a tight cluster, ringed by the Raiders and to a man they wore expressions of uncertainty. Damin could imagine what was going through their minds.
“What's going to happen to them?”
“I don't know.”
“You're not going to...”
“Kill them? I wish I knew.” He turned in the saddle at the sound of hoofs and found Denjon and Linst riding towards them at a canter. The red-coated Defenders reined in when they reached them.
“We're ready to move out,” Denjon informed them.
“How's Tarja?”
“Much the same. He's in one of the wagons with a medic. We'll be setting a hard pace, I'm afraid, but it can't be avoided.”
“How long will it take you to reach the border?”
“About six weeks,” the captain replied. “We could get there sooner if we dumped the supply wagons, but I'm loath to do that, for obvious reasons. We'll only resort to that if we're being pursued.” The captain glanced meaningfully at the Karien prisoners. “I hope this works.”
“You hope what works?” Adrina asked.
“R'shiel's grandiose plan for turning the Kariens back,” he said.
“And what is that, exactly?”
“We don't know and I'm not sure we want to,” Linst remarked. “She asked that we be gone before she does it, so we can only assume it's some heathen ritual that she'd rather we didn't witness.”
“Heathen ritual or not, I can't say I'll mind missing it,” Denjon said. Then he reached forward and offered Damin his hand. “I wish you luck, Lord Wolfblade.”
“You'll need it more than I,” Damin said, accepting the handshake. “With all your troops and the Kariens concentrated in the north, weather permitting I'll have a clear run down to Hythria. You're the ones taking the long road.”
“I was thinking more of what happens when you get to Hythria,” Denjon said with a grin.
“I'll worry about that when I get there.”
“Then I'll look forward to meeting you again on your side of the border. For all our sakes I hope it goes well for you, my Lord. And for you too, Your Highness.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
Damin glanced at Adrina curiously. Her thanks sounded genuine. There was no hint of her usual sarcastic tone. Something was seriously wrong with her.
Denjon and Linst wheeled their mounts around and cantered back towards the long line of red-coated Defenders. They watched them leave in silence, watched Denjon ride to the head of the column, and heard the faint sound of the trumpet signalling their advance as it was whipped away on the icy wind.
“So what happens now?” Adrina asked after a while.
Damin shrugged. “We wait for the demon child.”
When R'shiel arrived more than an hour later, she was on foot and the two Karien boys were with her. Damin and Adrina both dismounted when they caught sight of her. She was chatting to Mikel and Jaymes as they walked across the trampled grass towards them, the three of them apparently in a fine mood and the best of friends. When she reached them, she was smiling broadly.
“The Defenders got away all right then?” she asked.
“About an hour ago,” Damin informed her. “Where have you been?”
“Communing with the gods,” she told him with a grin. “Let's do something about these Kariens, shall we?”
Damin grabbed her arm as she turned towards the prisoners. “What are you going to do, R'shiel?”
“You'll see.”
Without waiting for his reaction she pulled her arm free and taking Mikel's hand, walked towards the Kariens. Jaymes followed after them. The lad had filled out since he had been training with the Hythrun. At fifteen he was the size of a full-grown man. Any animosity that had existed between the brothers seemed to have been put to rest. That odd turn of events bothered Damin almost as much as what R'shiel might be planning.
Almodavar turned and dismounted at R'shiel's approach. Damin and Adrina threw their reins to Tamylan and hurried after her on foot. The Kariens, sensing something was about to happen, began to grow restless. Those who had tired of standing and were sitting on the cold ground climbed to their feet. The priests pushed to the front of the group, tracing the star of the Overlord on their foreheads as they regarded the demon child with intense suspicion.
“Where is Lord Drendyn?” R'shiel called to the Kariens as she stopped before them. The knight in question pushed his way through the crowd and stepped in front of her belligerently. He was sandy haired and sweating, despite the cold, and looked hardly older than Jaymes.
“I demand you release us immediately and hand over the Crown Princess Adrina so that she may be returned to Karien.”
Damin suspected the young knight's bravado was inspired by fear. His Raiders, with their loaded bows and fearsome reputation, still ringed the Kariens. He had only to raise his arm and there would be a massacre.
“As you wish,” R'shiel replied. “Lord Wolfblade, be so kind as to ask your men to withdraw. Tell them to muster over that way, upwind from us.”
At a nod from Damin, Almodavar gave the order. The Raiders lowered their weapons, replaced arrows in their quivers and wheeled their mounts around. Drendyn looked stunned by her sudden capitulation.
“Is this some sort of trick?”
“Not at all, my Lord, you are free to go. There is a party of Karien knights headed this way. They should be here in a day or two. The Defenders have confiscated your horses, unfortunately, but they have left you sufficient food and water to last until you're rescued.”
“And our Princess?”
“Ah, now that's a different matter. She's not actually your Princess any longer. Adrina is now a Princess of Hythria.”
Drendyn's eyes widened in horror. “Your Highness? Is this true?”
Damin glanced at Adrina, who looked very uncomfortable. “I'm sorry, Drendyn...” Adrina said with a helpless shrug. To Damin's surprise, she appeared genuinely upset that she had hurt the young man.
“And you can give your King a message from me, too,” he added, turning to the distraught young earl. “Any attempt to return the Princess to Karien will be taken as an act of war.”
“But they murdered Prince Cratyn!” Drendyn cried to Adrina then turned on Damin furiously, taking a step towards him, ready to fight for his Princess' honour. “What have you done to her?”
“That's far enough, my Lord,” Almodavar cut in, his sword pressing into the young earl's tabard. Drendyn halted abruptly, looked down at the blade aimed squarely at his heart and wisely took a step backward.
“Hythria will pay for the life of my Prince. And my Princess!” he shouted, albeit from a safer distance.
“Perhaps,” Damin agreed. “But not today, my young friend.”
“Enough of this,” R'shiel declared impatiently. “Damin, I suggest you move back. I have something I wish to do before we leave.”