She hesitated, then nodded.
"Go," Jenoe said to Tirnya and Enly. "Check on your companies and then come back here."
Tirnya and Enly exchanged glances and then went in search of their men.
Tirnya found Oliban, Crow, Qagan, and her other lead riders in a small cluster not far from where she'd been speaking with her father. Oliban spotted her first and said something to the others, who turned to greet her. None of them appeared hurt or any the worse for their brush with the Mettai spell. But their expressions were bleak, and Tirnya felt her heart begin to pound.
"Report," she said as she approached them, her mouth suddenly dry. She looked around, feeling panic rise in her chest. "Where's Dyn?"
"He's with th' others, Capt'n," Oliban said. "He wasn' hurt."
"Good. But we lost men, didn't we?"
"Not many compared with th' others," Oliban told her. "Eighteen, t' be exact. Most o' them were lost in th' mess as we retreated from th' battlefield. By th' time we knew they were missin'." He stopped, shaking his head. "We were lucky we didn' lose more. There are companies from Waterstone and Fairlea tha' were wiped out entirely. And Enly's and Stri's men didn' fare too well."
Eighteen men. It could have been so much worse. They'd been lucky to be near the Mettai when the Fal'Borna attacked with their shaping power, and far from the flank when the poison began to drift back over the men of Stelpana.
"What happened to the other Qalsyn units?" she asked.
"Th' white-hairs got 'em," Crow said. "The shapers. Some weren' dead, bu' there was nothin' we could do t' help 'em once tha' spell started killin' th' Waterstone army."
Oliban looked briefly at the other lead riders before meeting Tirnya's gaze again. "Capt'n, tha' Mettai magic… Is i' really worth this?"
Not long ago, a few days perhaps, she would have been angered by the question. But not after today. Somehow the poison spell had changed everything. Killing the Fal'Borna as they slept had appalled her, and fighting off the great magical wolves had been a trial for all of them. But they'd been as defenseless as the white-hairs against the Mettai's poison. The spell killed indiscriminately. It was worse than Fal'Borna magic, and Tirnya hadn't believed she'd ever think that about anything.
"I don't know," she told him. "I thought so before, but I'm not sure now. I'll speak with my father and Marshal Crish and the other captains," she said. "We'll need to decide what to do next."
Oliban appeared surprised by her candor. "All righ', Capt'n."
She started to walk away, but stopped after only a couple of strides and faced her riders once more. "I'm glad all of you are all right," she said. Then she grinned. "Even you, Crow."
The men laughed.
"Thank you, Capt'n," Oliban said.
She nodded to them and went to find her father.
She and Enly were the last two captains to report to the marshals. The others stood by silently as Jenoe and Hendrid spoke in low voices. Tirnya noticed that several of the Fairlea and Waterstone captains weren't there, including the man who had fallen in the Silverwater and been rescued by Gries so many days back. Gries was there, but Tirnya avoided his gaze, remembering how angry she had been with him just a few hours before.
Thinking of this, she looked around for the merchant. He stood with his horse a good distance away from the army and its leaders.
"How are your men?" Jenoe asked Enly and Tirnya.
"I lost eighteen," Tirnya told him.
"You were lucky," Enly said dully. "I lost forty-six, including four of my riders."
She looked at him. "I'm so sorry, Enly."
"Eighteen and forty-six," Jenoe repeated. "The army of Qalsyn was fortunate. We lost fewer than two hundred. Waterstone lost more than six hundred. Fairlea nearly four hundred." He rubbed a hand over his face. "More than a thousand men. Add that to the hundreds who died at the last sept we fought and we've lost more than a third of our army, and we're still not to Deraqor."
"I hesitate to bring this up again, Marshal," Gries said. "But perhaps we should reconsider Torgan's offer."
"Yes, I noticed that he's still here," Jenoe said, making no effort to hide his annoyance. "Was that your doing, Captain?"
Gries shook his head. "No, Marshal. The Fal'Borna attacked before he could leave, and I think he followed us when the poison spell reached our lines."
"I ordered him away from here," Jenoe said. "I haven't changed my mind."
"He can help us defeat Deraqor. We wouldn't need wolves or eagles or poison."
"You'd still need our magic."
All of them turned. Mander and Fayonne were walking toward them, the young man in the lead, his mother trailing behind him looking pale and small.
"Yes, Mander, we would," Jenoe said. "Is that a problem?"
"I believe it is, Marshal," the young Mettai said.
His mother looked at him, narrowing her eyes. But she remained silent, and after a moment dropped her gaze again.
Jenoe frowned. "I don't understand."
"No," the man said. "I'm sure you don't." He took a breath. "Perhaps you've noticed that our spells often don't work quite the way they're supposed to. The wolves turn on our people, or the eagles turn on each other, or the poison kills those it was supposed to help."
"What of it?" Jenoe asked, ice in his voice.
"Perhaps you also noticed that the land around our village was blighted," he went on, seeming to ignore the question. "Or that our people weren't as prosperous as other Mettai you encountered in your travels."
"What is this about?" Tirnya's father demanded. He looked at Fayonne. "Eldest? What is it he's trying to tell us?"
Fayonne opened her mouth, as if intending to reply. But she closed it again and looked away.
"Our people have been cursed," Mander said.
Jenoe stared at him. "Cursed?"
"Yes. By other Mettai. It's been over a century now. I won't bother you with the details of why they did it, but they had their reasons, and some would insist to this day that our people deserved their fate."
"A curse," Jenoe said, his voice low. "What does this curse do?"
"Just what you've seen, Marshal. It ruins our land, it robs us of our prosperity, and it twists our magic in ways we can't anticipate."
"And you didn't think to tell us this before marching with us to war?" Enly asked.
"Would you have offered us this alliance?" Fayonne asked him.
"Of course not!"
"That's why we didn't tell you," she said.
Enly started to object, as did Jenoe, Gries, and several others, Tirnya among them. But the eldest raised a finger, silencing all of them.
"I thought it possible that by leaving Lifarsa, we would also leave the curse behind, particularly once we were past the Silverwater. And since I knew we wouldn't conjure on your behalf until we were clear of the wash, I thought there was some chance that you'd never need to know of the curse."
"It seems you were wrong," Jenoe said in a hard voice.
The eldest's mouth twitched. "Yes, I was. But as a leader who is risking all to regain his people's homeland, I'd think that you'd understand, Marshal. My people have been suffering under this curse for a hundred years. You presented me with an opportunity to start over, to leave our afflicted land and build a new life. I would have been mad to turn you down, or to say anything that would jeopardize that chance. Surely you understand that."
For a long time Jenoe didn't answer. Tirnya had spent most of her life gauging her father's moods by subtle changes in his expression or the sound of his voice. But for the life of her she couldn't tell in those moments what he was thinking.
"I do understand it," he finally said. "But you have to understand that I can't allow this to continue." He looked at Tirnya. "You know what we have to do, don't you?"
She nodded, surprised by how calm she felt. Yes, she'd fought long and hard to convince her father and Qalsyn's lord governor to let this invasion go forward. But she'd already seen and done enough during this war to make her balk at the prospect of additional battles.