"I told you, he didn't beat me! And besides, that has nothing to do with it. I'd hate him even if we'd never fought."
"I find that hard to believe. You Tolms hate to lose at anything. You don't even like it when-"
"There they are."
Tirnya spun to look in the direction Enly was pointing. Far in the distance, cresting a small hill, she saw the army, easily a thousand men strong. They marched under two banners: the blue, white, and green of Stelpana; and a second flag of blue and black that must have been the sigil of House Ballidyne.
"I have to tell Father," she said, hurrying back toward the camp.
"Tirnya!"
She stopped, turned.
"Don't let anyone else hear what I said about Gries."
"I promise," she said, and went in search of her father.
By the time Tirnya found Jenoe, he already knew that the Fairlea army had been spotted. His cheeks were flushed and his face was covered with a fine sheen of sweat, but he was grinning. He enjoyed training, even out here in the middle of nowhere.
"You should have worked with your men," he said as soon as he saw her. "Your watching for them didn't make them get here any sooner."
"Yes, Father."
"You're humoring me," he said with a slight frown.
"Yes, Father."
He laughed.
They started walking to the east edge of the camp, where they would greet the soldiers of Fairlea.
Tirnya was eager to share with Jenoe all that Enly had told her about House Ballidyne, but Stri Balkett and several of Jenoe's other captains were walking just behind them. Instead she asked her father what he knew about the lord governor and his son.
"Not much, really. I met Shon when he came to Qalsyn. You were young at the time-I don't think you'd finished your third four. He struck me as being a rather difficult man," he went on, lowering his voice and glancing hack to see that the captains wouldn't overhear. "I think that he and Maisaak got on quite well, if you follow my meaning."
She smiled. "I think I do. What about his son?"
"The older one, you mean? Gries?"
Tirnya nodded.
"I've never met him. Why?"
She felt her cheeks redden. "No reason. Enly seemed to think that he might be commanding this army."
"He might be at that," Jenoe said, apparently oblivious to her discomfort.
Enly was waiting for them at the east end of camp, and he raised a hand in salute to the marshal.
"Captain," Jenoe said. "Tirnya tells me you expect the lord heir to be at the head of the Fairlea army."
Enly shot Tirnya a quick look, but then nodded to her father. "Yes, sir. I think it's possible."
Jenoe looked out at the approaching army. "It hadn't occurred to me that the lord governor would send him, but I think you're right. That's Gries leading them, isn't it?"
"Yes," Enly said, his tone betraying little. "I believe it is."
The northern army was close enough now that Tirnya could see the man clearly. He was tall and lean, with curly yellow hair and a long, angular face. He wore a simple brown riding cloak over a surcoat of blue and black, and he had a leather baldric slung over his back. Even from this distance, even with the skies dull, Tirnya could see the jeweled hilt of his sword gleaming just above his left shoulder, within easy reach of his right hand. This weapon and his impressive white horse, which he rode with easy grace, were all that marked him as anyone more than a simple army captain.
Tirnya could see immediately why Enly would dislike this man. He was handsome, he looked like someone who had grown accustomed to success, and he didn't appear to lack for confidence. Once more she couldn't help thinking that he and Enly were probably very much alike.
The man riding just behind Ballidyne's lord heir said something that made Gries laugh. He had a good smile; strong, nothing held back. She found it hard to believe that this was the man Enly had described just a short time before. She glanced Enly's way and found that he was already watching her, frowning, probably reading her thoughts. She looked away.
Before long, Gries and his army reached the wash. The Ballidyne captain dismounted, walked to Jenoe, and dropped to one knee. The other captains and lead riders in his army had climbed off their horses as well, and now every man from Fairlea followed Gries's example and knelt before the marshal.
"Well met, Captain," Jenoe said, stepping forward.
"Marshal Onjaef," Gries said in a clear, ringing voice. "The army of Fairlea is here to give whatever aid it can. We are yours to command."
"Thank you, Captain. We're honored to march alongside the soldiers of your fine city. Please rise, all of you."
Gries stood and the two men embraced, drawing cheers from every soldier there.
"We number twelve hundred, Marshal," Gries said, his tone crisp. "One hundred or so are mounted; the rest are on foot. My father and I agreed that we'd be better off against the Fal'Borna if we had more bowmen than swordsmen. So we marched with seven hundred archers. That's why we're late in arriving. We already had the bows, but laborers worked night and day to fill our quivers. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."
Jenoe smiled. "No apology is necessary, Captain. We're pleased to have you here." He indicated Enly with an open hand. "I believe you know Qalsyn's lord heir, Enly Tolm."
Gries grinned and extended a hand, which Enly took with obvious reluctance. "It's good to see you again, Enly. I'm sure I'll enjoy fighting alongside you a great deal more than I did fighting against you."
"And this is my daughter, Tirnya. She's one of my captains." Gries faced her, still smiling. Gods, he was handsome.
"Captain Onjaef. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Jenoe introduced Ballidyne's lord heir to Stri and the other captains. Gries was every bit as gracious with them as he had been with Tirnya and Enly.
Tirnya caught Enly's eye while this was going on and gave a small shrug, as if to say, I thought you told me he was a monster.
She could see that Enly wanted to say something, probably about how she was too easily taken in by a winning smile and large, deep brown eyes. But in the end he merely shook his head and looked away.
When Jenoe had finished his introductions, he instructed Gries to have his men make camp beside the armies of Qalsyn and Waterstone.
"We're eager to cross the Silverwater and begin our march toward the Horn," the marshal said. "But you and your soldiers have come a long way. We can begin our march westward tomorrow."
"With all due respect, Marshal, that's not necessary."
Jenoe hesitated, eyeing the man doubtfully.
"We've kept you waiting long enough," Gries went on. He glanced at Tirnya and the others. "All of you. It's only midday. Even with the time it will take you and your men to break camp, we can still cross the wash and cover another league before nightfall."
Tirnya caught her father's eye and nodded.
"Very well," the marshal said. "Thank you, Captain Ballidyne." He turned to Waterstone's marshal and the other captains. "You heard him. Let's break camp. I want to be moving as soon as possible."
For the next hour, the camp was like a beehive, teeming with activity. The tents of the two marshals were dismantled and packed away, riding horses were saddled, cart horses were harnessed to the wagons that held provisions, and finally soldiers arrayed themselves in their companies. They were ready to go so quickly that already Tirnya was wondering if before darkness fell they might cover two leagues, rather than one.
Then they commenced their fording of the wash.
This section of the river, known as Enka's Shallows, had been used for crossings by Eandi armies during the Blood Wars. The Silverwater was wider here, and so its waters were slower and relatively shallow. Still, the wash was one of the major waterways of the Southlands; even during the driest turns of the Growing its waters were powerful and treacherous. And with the rains that had fallen recently, its current had strengthened.