"And ready. Shields up!”

Galin paced around the training yard, looking over the men as they began their drills. Most of the men left in the company were skirmishers by trade and were not used to fighting in a tight formation as heavy infantry and while Galin did not want to remove them from their preferred duty, he had decided that they would need to train in both roles. When they inevitably complained, Galin would roll his eyes and remind them of the fresh hell they had put him through when he was put in charge of the skirmishers before Cedric mauled the company into bloody tatters. He was never handy with a bow even as a boy and had to teach himself to load and loose a crossbow so he could properly serve with them and every man among them had held him in some degree of disdain until the wheat field and the march back to Adeluna. So train they would and Galin could exact his own sort of good-hearted revenge on his former tormenters as he put them through their paces.

Stalking along the front of the line, Galin rapped on the shield wall with the butt of his spear, shoving at some of the men to test the strength of the wall, which he found sorely lacking. The skirmishers were more used to fighting in open order and not the tight ranks of the battle line so the transition was a painfully slow one, overcoming years of ingrained lessons to fight and retreat and strike again rather than engage the enemy toe to toe. “Wasters, now. Draw ‘em!” The men dragged heavy, wooden training swords from their belts, the wall shuddering as they twisted and swayed to get the weapons to the ready. Galin shook his head and tried to keep from laughing. “Slovenly, the lot of you. Colum here can do better,” he shouted and jerked his head toward the young boy with his buckler and waster held ready. “Embarrassing, it is, to be seen with you lot. It’s a disgrace to the company, to the whole bloody North. A proper soldier can draw his sword without bloody well exposing his comrade to a spear in the chest. Maker’s bollocks.” Galin propped his spear against one of the lime-washed walls that abutted the ground and pulled a two-handed waster from the pile at his feet.

“So, there’s how many of you, eh? Forty men, armed, and in formation, and here I am, one man with a sword, so I am. And I’ll wager you that I can break your line by my own self. It’ll be a right laugh, and if you all stop me, I’ll let you have a day off hard laboring. Hpw’s those odds for you?” The men chuckled and planted their feet, preparing to receive his charge. “Are you ready lads? Make your mothers proud, you slovenly bastards!” Grinning, Galin started at a trot toward the line, his long waster hanging low in his right hand. The men jeered and laughed, already preparing for their day of leisure, relishing a chance to rain blows on Galin, not out of any malice but simple competition with their commander. As he closed the distance, Galin sped up and swung the sword up into both his hands. The men in the wall shifted a little, seeing him coming fast and braced more firmly, pressing their shoulders into the hollows of their shields. Galin roared a challenge and chopped down with the heavy blade onto one of the men’s shields. The man lowered his guard, nearly losing his grip on the shield and Galin stamped down on the shield’s rim, sending the man tumbling forward into the dirt.

Even as he stepped over the flailing man, Galin jabbed his long sword forward like a spear into the gap, pushing back the man in the second rank as he faced Galin’s onslaught. The men who had been standing next to the fallen man were trying to shift to cover the gap and they jabbed ineffectually at Galin, unused to fighting so close to other men so they could not rely on sweeping, haymaking strokes but the short, professional jabs of a properly trained soldier. One of them overextended his arm and Galin took advantage, hammering the pommel of the waster into the man’s forearm hard enough to make him drop his weapon. Then he reversed the blade and swept the legs out from under the other man, sending him staggering back into the rank behind him. Instead of continuing, Galin stopped and leaned on the quillions of the waster, letting the men settle themselves back into ranks.

“Colum lad, time for your lesson. What did that pitiable shambles tell you? Come up lad, stand up here and tell ‘em head on.” The boy walked up beside Galin a little timidly and when he began to speak his voice was barely above a whisper. “Speak up lad, so they can hear you clear to Adeluna!”

“They didn’t react when you hit the wall and they didn’t attack you quick once you were in there. I think if you’d wanted, you’d be clean through to the rear rank and men coming in the gap after you. They needed to close down the gap faster, I think.”

Galin nodded while the boy spoke, then straightened, glaring at the chastened skirmishers. “Out of the mouth of a wee’un that can’t even shave comes more sense than the lot of you showed. When there’s a man with a bloody great sword coming you gut ye, why in the nine hells don’t you close up? You’re not fighting like it’s in front of the damned lines, you ARE the bloody line. If you don’t close the gap, you are all bloody dead, do you fucking understand? Fuck’s sake, what?”

Galin spun around on his heel and saw his scouting patrol, mounted on pawing Highland ponies, and a few men behind them, dressed in the manner of the men of Cittasphe lugging a large chest. “Ambassadors, sir, for Adeluna. Ship went aground off Vilpomolan and they wanted to avoid being robbed blind by the pirates so they made inland fast as they could. Run into them a few miles off the border and brought ‘em in. Figure we might as well, aye?” Galin nodded and chewed his lip. He was not prepared to host ambassadors of any stripe but there was nothing he could do about it now. “Very well, Donach. Get your horses to the stables and then get the Mhuir Cupla ambassadors over to the fortress hall. We’ll figure something out in a while,” Galin said in Goidelic, hoping the ambassadors did not understand the language of the Northmen. “And send Maria to the kitchens and get something cooked so we don’t look like proper arseholes.”

Galin turned back to the training sections and smiled sweetly. “Thus ends today’s training. Now you’re for conditioning. Full kit, circuit around the hill, then a sprint up to the gate. Five times, and I’ll see you at the end. Quickly now, march!” The men groaned and stamped off the training ground then Galin caught Cooper’s eye. “Get Luthene as well, she’s a better diplomatic sort than I’d be.” The tall man grinned and chuckled as he walked past Galin to search out Luthene in the physican’s quarters where she usually was this time of day.

“Don’t think the right honorable ones there ever heard a proper bollocking like that before, sir. Certainly expanding their cultural education.”

“Shut yer hole, Cooper, and shift it. We’ve got to look like we ain’t savages. No reason proving folk right thinking we are!”

Galin motioned for Colum to follow him and he jogged through the cluttered buildings to the hall, sneaking in through a postern gate to his chambers. “Get changed lad, into the new tunic we’ve bought you, and run a comb through your hair, then come into my quarters, yeah? Move!” The boy shot into his room and Galin stepped into his, stripping off his sweaty tunic and tossing it on the floor while he rooted around for his better one. “Where in the damned hells is that thing,” he growled to himself, tossing clothes this way and that in his search but without much luck. Luthene would know where it was in a second, of course, but Cooper had not fetched her yet. Damn his eyes, he swore viciously under his breath, and damn the ambassadors.

“The midwife said I’m doing well,” Maria said, as both she and Luthene carried a crate each of bandages, herbs, and other assorted medicines to the infirmary. “Right where I should be. Though I have to say, I’m still nervous.”

“Why’s that?” Luthene asked, moving her crate to her hip so she could open the infirmary door for Maira.

“I haven’t felt this one moving yet,” Maria replied. “Midwife says it’s too soon for that yet, another two months at least, but I’ve lost so many, it would be nice to know this one’s still alive, you know?”

Setting her crate down beside Maria’s, she turned to face her friend. “You’re nearly five months along now, aren’t you? That’s two months longer than you’ve ever been. I think you’re going to be just fine. I bet this little one will be stubborn, just you wait and see. Stubborn like his parents!”

“Midwife thinks it’ll be a boy,” Maria added, looking down at her growing belly.

“Oh Maira, don’t tell me you believe that! I know you’ve spoken to every woman in the village already, and they’ve told you, she []always says it’s a boy, and half the time she’s wrong. Everyone will tell you she’s skilled and she’s smart, but you never know if it’s a boy or a girl until it’s born.” It was cunning, really. She didn’t come cheap, and some men were more likely to pay for her services if they thought their wives would give them a son. Their wives would play along, preferring to have a midwife help them deliver their child rather than a neighbour.

As though thinking about husbands summoned him, Cooper arrived. It was too early yet for the men to have been dismissed from training, but he was still dressed for it. Something happened, Luthene realized. Not an accident, hopefully, and since there was little urgency in Cooper’s step, she doubted it was that serious. First he embraced Maria. “How are you, love?”

“We’re both doing fine,” Maria replied, smiling.

“Well enough to put together a good meal for some ambassadors?”

“Ambassadors?” Maria was shocked. “Why didn’t you tell me we were expecting ambassadors?!”

“They weren’t expected! Ship went around near the border, and our scouts found them.” Cooper nodded at Luthene. “Galin said he’ll be needing your help, too.”

“Aye, I expect so,” Luthene mumbled, leaving Cooper and Maria. She went to the laundry to fetch a few items before running into Colum just outside the door to the room she and Galin shared.

“Can’t find my tunic,” the lad said.

Luthene handed it to him from. “I had it washed. It’s a little damp still, I’m afraid.” Opening the door to her room, she found Galin tossing clothes about. “I have it here,” she said, giving Galin his good tunic. She hung her dress and shift over a chair while she undressed. “There was some blood on it, so I had it washed, along with my dress. I know Maria’s worried about Renata, but the woman’s a miracle worker.” Her dress on, she turned her back to Galin. “Tie that for me, will you love?” The door opened, and Colum came in. “The polite thing to do is to knock first,” she told him, sighing. “Shut the door, please.” When Galin finished tying the laces on her dress, she crouched down and used the sleeve of her discarded tunic to clean a smudge off the lad’s face.

“Maria is going to get a meal ready, and Cooper might only get half an earful since he didn’t know any ambassadors would be arriving,” Luthene said. “How many are there? And where are they from?” She looked at her bed and sighed again. The polite thing to do would be to offer the room to their guests, being it was the best in the fortress. “Any idea how long they’ll be here? Just passing through, surely. There’s nothing here of interest to an ambassador, after all.”

“Thank you, dear, I can’t find a damned thing in this place. Can’t believe you talked me into storing things in a chest and not a proper kit bag so’s I can travel at a moment’s notice. Domesticating me like a wolf pup, you are,” he said and winked, kissing her while she was getting her dress and shift laid out to make a proper impression on the ambassadors. “And your woman there, she’s done a grand job with the dress. Wouldn’t have known there were a spot of dirt on ‘er before with how clean she’s got it. Though I can’t say I’d be looking at the dress so much with such a right beautiful smile just above it.” She turned so he could do the laces of her dress and he dallied with them long enough to plant a lingering kiss on the hollow of her neck. “And I will say, I can’t wait to see you out of it later once we’ve got the lads all settled.” He did not have a chance to say anything more about his plans for the evening as Colum barged in unannounced like a miniature force of nature. “Alright, alright boyo, you’ll learn to knock like Luthene says or I’ll knock you head over arse, you understand me?” The boy nodded, too caught up in the excitement of strange visitors to pay much attention. Luthene cleaned him up a bit while Galin pulled on his own tunic and belted his heavy war sword around his waist.

“Now Col, we’ve got to have your best behavior tonight, yeah? These are noble sorts and we can’t have them thinking all of us Northmen are savages because you can’t control yourself long enough to use a knife and spoon at dinner. And so help me, if you sneak wine, I’ll tan your hide and have you sleep out in the training yard for a bloody month.” Galin squatted down as he often did when he wanted to make a point so that Colum would know how serious he was. “Now you’re a growing lad and I know you’re more want to run about like a hellion and cause a right ruckus but today I need you to be disciplined, same as a soldier in a wall, aye? Keep that at bay same as I taught you about the fear and I’ll be proud of you for sure. Do we understand each other, lad?” Colum chewed his lip like Galin did, something he must have picked up from his adoptive father, and then nodded, sticking out his hand.

“You have my word, alright Galin? I will be proper behaved, same as I am when Luthene’s hammering the letters into me. I sit still, I’m polite, and I do my best. That right?”

Galin took his hand and shook it solemnly. “Aye lad, that’s about the shape of it. Now run ahead and see if Maria needs any help ‘round the kitchen. And remember what I said about the wine, eh?” The boy nodded back and headed through the stone corridors to the kitchen where Maria was no doubt bustling around in her own world, trying to prepare something on such short notice that would be worthy of their exalted guests. Galin did not share her awe of the interlopers, almost wishing that the scouts had found them after bandits had and could simply have Luthene draft up a report to the Crown explaining the situation rather than sitting through a formal meal with the strange, peace-loving neighbors of the Highlanders. Galin took the opportunity to sit down at their table, pouring a half cup of a dark Mamlak wine.

“Four of them, near as I could tell. One senior, the other three junior from the differing levels of frippery on their tunics. Maker knows what it costs, but it’s more than I’d bring in in a year on each of ‘em and then some. Fancy buggers. Men of Mhuir Culpa, they are, and senior enough. Ach, sorry. Cittasphe. When I get my blood up, the old tongue comes easier. Can’t remember the last time I’ve used it when I weren’t fighting though. Must be being around you southrons so long, makes me long for the language of my folk. But no matter. Four ambassadors of Cittasphe arrived, shipwrecked from the sound of it, or run aground by pirates off the coast. They’re lugging some awful heavy box about and all, likely some sort of present for the Queen who’s got one of everything already to grease the wheels of whatever diplomacy they are trying to peddle.” He drained the cup and stood up again, straightening the hem of his tunic and the position of his war belt until his sword hung comfortably at his waist. “So I don’t think, with that box of theirs, they plan on being here over-long. Just rest the night and then tomorrow they will impose on us for provisions and an escort, using their status of course, and we’ll have to drag their sorry arses to the Queen personally. So tonight we put ‘em up in the tavern like proper travelers and in the morning, I’ll probably take Cooper’s sections out for the transport. They need a little hard training after larking off on the punishment detail, after all.” Smiling, he pushed open the door and held it, mincing like a court dandy. “And now, my lady, we rub elbows with the high and mighty.” He extended his arm in exaggerated courtesy. “Shall we?”

“Does this mean you’ll be using a wolf for your device?” Luthene asked when Galin kissed her. He had yet to choose one, which was a shame in moments like this, with foreigners to impress. His flattery made her flush, which only deepened with his more forward comment. You did that on purpose, she thought as Colum burst in. She also wished she had locked the door when she came in.

Galin made sure the lad understood he needed to behave himself and dismissed him to help Maria. Luthene laughed when Colum left. “Polite, aye, but I’ve actually given up on getting him to sit still through his lessons.” As Galin sat down and poured himself wine, she let down her hair and ran her hands through it. There wasn’t really time to do anything with it, and she briefly considered putting it back up again, a bit neater, then decided to leave it loose. She knew Galin liked it down, anyway.

“Being from Cittapashe, they’ll be amicable, slow to anger and to take offence,” Luthene said, pouring a mouthful of wine for herself and sipping slowly. “So long as no one does anything too terrible, like killing someone, they’ll probably report that they were treated well, here.” The tavern would be a good place for them, she decided. No matter how distinguished the guest, she wouldn’t feel comfortable giving up her own room to them, even if the Queen herself stopped by. Finishing her wine, she added, “Seeing as I’m going to spend my life surrounded by Highlanders, perhaps you should teach me some of the language.” Laughing at Galin’s antics, Luthene took his arm, kissed his cheek, and let him lead the way to their guests.

The fortress hall had been hastily tidied before the ambassadors were lead in, and there were goblets of wine poured for everyone. Luthene waited for introductions to be made before she spoke. “You’re all welcome here. Rooms are being prepared for you, as is a hearty meal. You will be staying the night, I assume?”

“Indeed, if it’s not too much trouble,” the most senior of them said. “My name is Diego Maradona, and with me is Falco, Lorenzo, and Radamel.” He indicated each of the three junior ambassadors in turn. “I’m afraid their Adelunan isn’t very good, but if there is anything you wish to say to them, I would be happy to translate. Unless one of you know some of our tongue?”

Luthene shook her head. “I’m afraid I do not.”

“Alas!” Maradona said. “Oh well. We shan’t be in your company long. We’d like to leave for the city on the morrow, early if possible.”

“Of course. Will you need an escort to Adeluna?”

Maradona looked relieved that she had offered. “I would prefer not to impose, but I fear being accosted on the road. We’re not used to such hostile country where we’re from!” He said a few words in his own language to one of the other men, and two of them opened the chest they had brought, and took out a small pouch. Maradona offered it, first to Luthene, and then to Galin when she seemed hesitant. “For your trouble. We wouldn’t dream of accepting your hospitality without offering something of our own. And ah, there’s the meal, splendid!”

The dinner dragged on far longer than Galin would have preferred but every time he tried to excuse himself with an excuse about the needs of the company, Luthene’s elbow would dig into his side while she politely told him that there was someone else that could see to that sort of thing and they would be delighted to remain longer to entertain their guests. Galin thought, as he sipped at a cup of wine and pretended to listen to one of the interminable stories of Cittapashe from the junior ambassador, that his ribs probably were even worse for wear after that dinner than when he fought Cooper in the company’s camp months before, and he was probably right. When the ambassadors had finally finished emptying Galin’s cellars of the better of his decent wines and excused themselves for the evening, he was close to losing his mind from the tedium of it all. “What in the name of the Maker was that wee one rambling on about,” he asked Luthene as they returned to their chambers. “Either he was talking about finding some pretty young lad to share his bed or some bleeding poetic metaphor and either way, he could have seen me age to grey waiting for it to finish. I wish you’d let me tell ‘em about the Valley some, a proper sort of story with all the blood and screaming and steel. But no, it’s all about making them feel at home so I sound like a damned eunuch.” Still grousing, Galin pulled the chamber door shut behind them and pushed the dinner out of his mind, ready to enjoy an evening in his own bed before he had to return to the field in the morning.

Dawn came faster than he had hoped and Galin cursed as he slipped out of bed, letting Luthene remain asleep a few minutes longer while he readied himself. Unlike the men in Cooper’s section, most of them skirmishers before the massacre under Cedric, Galin preferred to go into battle armored in mail with his sword, spear, and shield, taking comfort in the familiarity of their weight and the knowledge that he was trained well in their use. The rustling of the links of his mail coat stirred Luthene as he struggled into it, pulling it on over his head until it hung comfortably, then fastening his war belt around his waist, distributing the weight of the steel links more evenly. He pulled on his captured helmet, taken months before in the courtyard he now called his own, and winked at Luthene as he hefted his blank shield. “I did hear you yesterday, love, but once more, I will fight with a plain shield. It’s giving me the Maker’s own luck, so who am I to judge, eh?” Grinning even as he lowered the hinged cheek pieces of the helmet into place, he left Luthene to prepare herself in peace while he mustered the men and ambassadors for the journey ahead. If all went well, they could be there and back in five days, so he sent one of the men about to finish his night watch to the storehouse to have the necessary supplies ready for Cooper’s men.

Galin did not see a need to inspect the men with Cooper, trusting his lieutenant to put the proper fear of the Maker into them as they blearily took their places in the ranks, no doubt cursing the spears and shields they were being forced to carry as well as their bows. Instead, he walked to the tavern and called up the stairs to the ambassadors that they would have to be ready to travel within the hour, and, once he heard a groaning, muffled reply from one of the juniors, he ducked into the kitchen. The ovens were just finishing with the first loaves of the morning and Galin stole one from the ledge where they were cooling despite the half protest of one of the women who was busily preparing for the guests’ breakfast. By the time he finished it and wheedled a pair of hard boiled eggs and a piece of hard cheese from the kitchen staff, the ambassadors were finishing their own meal and Galin hurried them to the courtyard where their borrowed mounts were waiting, one with the chest lashed to its saddle, along with a handful of outriders that would scout ahead of the party as it moved toward the city. Cooper was with them, leading Galin’s horse with a placid smile. “Wouldn’t do well to not have our captain riding with these grandees about, would it, sir?” Galin glared daggers at him and pulled himself into the saddle with some effort.

“If I fall on my arse, Cooper, I’ll break you to the ranks and have you shoveling shit til Maria can’t stand the smell of you,” Galin whispered viciously in Goidelic. “More than she already can’t.” He straightened in the saddle and smiled at the ambassadors. “Gentleman, we march. Stay in the center of the column when you can, and your box there with you. Cooper, if you please, one section troop to the front, two to the rear, and every two miles, countermarch and rotate ‘em. This ain’t some stroll to the harvest fair. Your lads are too used to being skirmishers. It’s time to teach them some regular soldiering too.” The column snaked its way out of the fort’s palisade and out into the rolling hills of the Adelunan interior, moving briskly as they looked to cover as much ground as they could on the first day when they were well rested and had eaten proper meals the day before. Galin, riding with the ambassadors, found himself trapped in conversation again, this time probing questions about the state of the City and her Queen, questions he did not feel comfortable answering. Instead, he often took his leave of the group, trusting Luthene to handle herself well with them, and rode with the scouts instead. Most of them were men from the grasslands near the Highland’s coast, comfortable on their nimble ponies, but it was better company than the embassy.

Near sunset, as the men of Cooper’s section were just starting to complain even more loudly about the heaviness of their gear and the blisters being rubbed by their boots and Galin was about to endure another story about life as a fisherman’s son, two of the riders came galloping back toward the column, whooping and shouting to get Galin’s attention.

“Troop, halt! Rear section, cover the flanks. Embassy inside the shield ring. Cooper, get them ready,” he shouted then galloped, bouncing ungracefully in the saddle, to meet the outriders.

“Cavalry, sir, must be twenty-odd, and ain’t local. Bohari, by the look of them, and coming fast. We just nearly got ourselves cut up, coming over a hill and there they was.” Galin did not have time to wonder what a troop of lancers from the plains were doing this far south. Instead, he spurred his way back to the column, nearly tumbling out of the saddle as he reached the center of the ring through a gap in the wall. “Scouts, stay mounted, ambassadors as well. If things go to shit, you ride like hell. Luthene will lead you.” Galin looked at her sharply to quell any protest at his order, then swung himself out of the saddle. “A spear, Cooper, if you please?” As Cooper grimly handed Galin the ash shaft, Galin slipped his left hand into the straps of his shield. Then, ready for battle, he pushed his way into the battle line between Cooper and Lugh, tapping his shield against theirs.

With the setting sun at their backs, the Bohari horsemen crested a hillock a half mile away. As they were silhouetted against the blood-red evening sky, Galin growled, deep in his throat. “Steady boys, steady. Shields up, feet braced. Ain’t no horse alive that’ll want to get stuck on a spear, so stab at their faces and they’ll throw the bastards off instead of charging home. We stay steady and we’re fine, you hear me?” The lancers approached at a trot, howling their ululating war cries, then jammed back their heels, sending their mounts galloping toward the knot of them clustered around the ambassadors. “Steady…. Steady…!” Galin crouched, his shield raised, and cocked back his right arm like a trebuchet’s as he tightened his grip on his spear, waiting to thrust it home as the Bohari closed the final yards and the earth trembled with the striking of hooves and the air stank with sweat and fear. Now, he thought detachedly, he would find out just how good a teacher he had been. He hoped, for his own sake, he had been a good one.

Galin, love him, he tried to give her a few more minutes of sleep in the morning, but most of the time, he was unsuccessful. Especially these days, after the attack in Adeluna, and knowing that someone could pick the lock on their door, Luthene slept a bit lighter than she had before the attack. Even so, she was still a few more minutes, listening, finally sitting up as he was putting on his mail, and started to dress. “Would it be blasphemous of me to hope that your luck is better?” she asked, returning his smile. “I’ll see you out there.”

Rather than putting on her armour straight away, as Galin had done, Luthene went first to the kitchen, where a tray had been prepared by Maria. There was enough food laid out for Galin to eat as well, but since he’d already left, Luthene set her tea aside to seep and knocked on the door to the room where Colum slept. When there was no answer, she opened the door; it wouldn’t do for him to lie in with no reason. “I have breakfast,” she said upon seeing a bulge under the blankets that told her he was still under them.

“Not hungry,” came the grumbling reply. “Sick.”

Luthene pulled back the blankets. “Up you get.” She could smell the wine on him. “You’re not ill, you just had too much to drink last night, even though you promised Galin you wouldn’t.”

“Don’t tell him?” Colum asked, sounding more like a child now than one who wanted to be a soldier. “Please?”

Luthene frowned, thinking. “We’ll be gone a good five days. No, you’re not coming, not this time. You’re to stay here, and I’ll see that Maria finds plenty of chores for you. You’re to behave yourself and obey her, and lend her a hand. If she needs water fetched, you fetch it, and if there’s a floor that needs scrubbing, you’ll be the one to do it, you hear? And there will be no wine, either. If I hear you were drunk even once, Galin will hear of it.” She crouched down, as she’d seen Galin do, and met the boy’s eye. “Can you do that, Colum? Do I have your word?” The lad nodded. “Are you sure? Galin told you how important it is that a man keep his word. Don’t give me yours now unless you’re sure.”

Colum’s nod was more solemn this time. “Aye. You have my word.”

“Alright then. Now, I’ve got enough food for two, do you want any?”

For the next ten minutes, Luthene and Colum enjoyed a rich breakfast of leftover fried pork— Galin’s favourite, she knew, and might have saved him a peace had the lad not gobbled it up— and fresh bread. Then she had him help her with her mail, not that she needed the help, but his face lit up when she asked him. A good lad, she decided, giving him a hug and then heading to the stable to saddle her horse. When she finally joined the rest of the men in the courtyard, she was right behind Cooper, who lead out Galin’s horse.

“I’ve no idea what you said, but it didn’t sound very nice,” Luthene said before getting into the saddle, with a bit more ease than Galin.

It often fell to Luthene to make pleasant conversation with the ambassadors. The junior ones seemed a bit surprised to see her in armour, but in true Cittapashean fashion, recovered quickly. They wanted to know more about the kingdom, the city, and most importantly, its Queen. Luthene told them what she could, but Timedeath had hurt her more than most, and thus her insight was somewhat limited.

She had been thinking about asking Galin when they might make camp when two riders came galloping back in a loud hurry, and warned of incoming cavalry. Luthene did her best not to let he fear show. Cavalry, after all, had decimated the Company’s numbers once before, though they probably weren’t Bohari. Luthene had been about to dismount when Galin told her otherwise, and left no opportunity for her to argue. She hated it, but now wasn’t the time to fight with him. “Well, best give me your crossbow, then, so I can be useful.”

The men formed a ring around the ambassadors, Luthene, and the other mounted scouts. The Bohari cavalry closed the distance, and as soon as they were in range, Luthene loosed a bolt. A horse, fortunately, was a large target, and she managed to his one in the breast. The beast staggered back as she reloaded the weapon, but the horse did not suddenly fall as she’d hoped. Even then, the Bohari were not riding in a tight formation, and their horses were used to the smell of blood and death, and they neither tripped over the slain beast nor did they spook. Her own horse, however, was considerably more skittish, and it took longer to reload the crossbow as she had to try and keep it calm. She managed to get two more bolts fired as cavalry met a wall of shields and spears. Then, as Luthene was preparing to fire again, her horse suddenly reared, and she dropped it trying to grab the reins and stay mounted. Am I allowed to get off the horse long enough to pick it up? Luthene wondered, still upset about Galin’s order.

Then one of the Company fell and one of the horsemen prepared to ride through the gap.

The Bohari riders were closing the distance between themselves and the knot of spears quickly, whooping as they closed in for the kill. Galin could remember facing them in the Valley, breaking out in an ambush and driving into the company’s flank. They were some of the best horsemen in the world but they lacked the discipline he had instilled in the men with him. They were raiders first and foremost, looking to pick off caravans for easy plunder rather than fight in a pitched battle. That might be enough, he thought, and he heard the crack of his crossbow being loosed. The bolt drove through the leather armor than hung around the horse’s chest and did not bring it down for a few more steps, leaving its rider thrown to the ground and struggling to find a remount. Galin cursed and risked a look back at Luthene who was already trying to reload the crossbow on horseback while the scouts were each loosing arrows as fast as they could from their bows. “Shields up! Ready men!”

The charge was different than the Adelunan cavalry in the wheat field’s charge that tore the company to shreds. The Bohari did not ride in a dense formation that turned them into a batter ram of horse and steel. Instead, they fought individually, galloping forward in a loose line, looking to punch through the shield wall on their own. Some loosed arrows from their curved bows as they rode around the circle, probing for weaknesses among the men. Galin’s wall contracted slightly as many of the men shifted to their right, seeking the shelter of their neighbor’s shield as the arrows whipped into the linden wood. “Steady,” Galin growled and heard Cooper repeat the same and slowly the drifting stopped and the men stood firm. One of the lancers looked to try his luck against Cooper and spurred his horse forward, driving his lance ahead of him with a savage thrust.

Cooper lifted his arm as the lance slammed forward, hammering the face of the shield down against the lance point. The steel head sank into the dirt between Cooper’s feet and Galin stepped forward in the slight gap and thrust his spear into the horseman’s chest. The leaf-shaped steel sliced through the leather breastplate the man wore and mangled his heart before Galin twisted the blade and jerked it back out of the man’s chest. The horse reared and sent its rider’s lifeless body toppling from the saddle before it galloped off, away from the melee. All along the line, horses and riders were dead around the ring of shields and spears and their bodies made a further obstacle as the next wave of riders tried to break the ring. Galin heard a desperate whinny from behind him and saw Luthene’s mount rearing, its hooves scything in the air as Luthene struggled to remain in the saddle until the weight of her armor dragged her down, sending her sprawling on the grass.

He tore his eyes away when on his left, a Bohari rider’s mount, wounded from a spear thrust, toppled into the ring, pushing a gap in the packed shields and trapping Duncan under the weight of the fallen animal. As he struggled to free himself, other riders saw the gap and wheeled away from their attacks, lining up to hammer home into the gap. Cooper cursed and shifted to his felt, trying to cover the gap and Galin moved with him. The older skirmisher unstrapped his shield and let it fall to the ground at his feet then hurled his spear at the first horseman who was spurring for the gap. The spear arced and missed the rider, burying itself in the horse’s haunch, causing it to crumple in pain. As the other Bohari swerved to avoid the fallen horse, Cooper dragged the lance that had nearly impaled him out of the wet earth and held it in both hands like a pike. Screaming his own challenge, he stood in the gap and dared the riders to come.

And come they did. The first was plucked out of the saddle by an arrow from one of the scouts and the second impaled himself on Cooper’s outstretched lance. The others, riding hard behind, began to pull up on their reins in the face of the bloody obstacles. As they milled, trying to regroup, Galin whistled three times, a sharp, piercing shriek, and climbed over the bleeding corpse of a Bohari rider. “Kill them! Kill the bastards!” The men in the ring, relieved to be free from the constraints of the wall’s discipline and the terror of beating back the attacking horsemen, swarmed around the Bohari with a vengeance. Riders were dragged from their saddles as the infantrymen moved among them, butchering the men as they hit the ground. There was no quarter given in a gutter fight like this and the skirmishers of the company fought with the frustration of men not accustomed to the sort of bloody, stinking shock battle that came when facing cavalry on an open field. Some of the Bohari, seeing that their cries for quarter were going unheeded, attempted to fight their way out, flailing with curved swords and maces, raining blows on the shields and helmets of the men beneath them.

Galin snarled as one of the blows rang on his helmet then grabbed the rider’s ankle and pushed him over his saddle where, on the other side, Cooper slammed his captured lance through the man’s throat. As Cooper struggled to free the blade, a rider behind him raised his arm and Galin could see the glint of his blade as it began to hiss through the air toward Cooper’s back. Galin called out in alarm and dragged his sword out of its sheath, muscling past the riderless horse and Cooper. He felt the blade bite deep into his shield and as it stuck, he hammered the guard of his sword into the horse’s mouth. Its lips pulled back in pain, showing its long yellow teeth stained with blood. Before the rider could react, the horse was bucking, trying to avoid the second blow that cracked against its head. Twisting in his saddle, the horseman yanked his blade free and swung it down at Galin again, the blade ringing against the iron rim of his shield. Galin hacked down with his own blade, cutting through muscle and tendon and shattering the bones beneath. The man dropped his blade in pain and tried to control his mount with his good hand before Cooper, his lance finally retrieved, thrust the blade up below the man’s chin and into his brain. The body jerked once and was still wile Cooper recovered from the stroke and Galin was able to look around. Two Bohari riders were making for the horizon, pursued by his scouts, and the ambassadors were still safe.

“Cooper,” Galin croaked hoarsely as he groped for his waterskin, “get me a butcher’s bill, then gather the horses that ain’t too hurt. Strip the corpses, take anything we can use, and leave them for the vultures. We march in an hour and camp an hour after that.” Squirting the cool water into his parched throat, he tossed the skin to Cooper and went looking for Luthene, praying that she had survived the bloody engagement. Most of the men he could see were unhurt and Duncan had finally been hauled out from under the dead horse. Then he saw Luthene and pulled up the cheek pieces of his helmet so he could see her smile, waving his bloodied sword to her. Around the ambassadors were at least two dead Bohari and Luthene seemed unharmed, as did the embassy. “Are you looking to be back on hard labor,” he asked as he jogged over to her and pulled her into an embrace. “Wasn’t I telling you to stay on the bloody horse and here you are being the hero!” He kissed her, ignoring the proprieties in the face of the ambassadors, and held her there until he had to come up for air. “I do suppose I’ll forgive you, but just this once, mind.”

The horse reared up again, determined to throw its rider down, and this time it succeeded. The beast wanted to flee, but its escape was blocked in every direction. Luthene nearly had the wind knocked out of her when she hit the ground, and then had to curl into a ball to prevent an arm or a leg from being stepped on by the damn creature who tossed her. One of the junior ambassadors, Lorenzo, turned out to be an excellent horseman, and managed to calm Luthene’s mount down by the time she was back on her feet. “Can you keep it under control?” she asked him. He was confused, and looked back to Maradona to translate before giving a nod. She saw no sense in getting back on her horse only to have it toss her off yet again.

“Guarda qui!”

Luthene didn’t know what the ambassador was saying, but his tone was urgent and afraid, and that was meaning aplenty. Drawing her sword, Luthene reached him just as one of he Bohari did. She drove her sword into the horse’s chest, killing it. When the beast fell, its rider found himself trapped under it. He managed to get his weapon free first, but the lance was heavy and he had no momentum, and the blow glanced off Luthene’s shoulder, her mail more than enough protection. Before he could try again, she had the point of her blade in his neck.

Galin gave the order to kill, and kill they did. As ordered, Luthene stayed with the ambassadors, though they didn’t really need her protection. One of the Bohari managed to get out from under his fallen horse, one or both of his legs broken, and tried to pull himself towards the ambassadors. “Mercy,” he pleaded, looking to the men. Luthene swung down hard with her sword and severed his head from his neck.

Maradona looked horrified. “You didn’t have to kill him!”

“Yes, I did,” Luthene said firmly, wiping the blood off her sword and sheathing it. “And likely it was more merciful to do so than to let him live.”

The battle over, Galin found her, and she turned her back to the ambassadors so he could embrace her. She held him close as he kissed her, and she kissed him again when he said he forgave her for not staying on her horse. “Hardly my fault if the beast throws me off!” she said. In a quieter tone, she added, “I’ll talk to the ambassadors.”

As the other men were checking the horses and bodies for anything of value, Luthene stayed with the ambassadors, who seemed rather shaken by the fight. She tried to keep her tone gentle. “We’ll be better able to protect you if we know why you’re visiting the city in the first place, and who else might want to kill you.”

“Cittapashe is a peaceful town!” Maradona protested. “We are traders, not warriors, and we have no enemies!”

“In that case, I suppose you’ll no longer need an escort to the city.” Maradona’s eyes widened at this. “We don’t care about the politics involved,” Luthene continued, “we just want to get you to Adeluna safely. You’re not in Cittapashe anymore, and that means that people may try to kill you. We need to know who those people might be. But if you’re just going to play political games with me about it, then I will recommend to Galin that we turn around now and leave the four of you here.”

Maradona sighed, and told her the reason for their visit.

When they finally made camp about two hours later, Luthene first saw that the ambassadors were settled— not comfortable, for there were no nice meals or even a tent on the road— and then found Galin. “Pirates,” she said, when they were alone. “Vilpamolan pirates have been especially active in the North lately, making it much more difficult to reach the Cittapashean port. They have no navy, of course, so there isn’t much they can do about the problem. That’s why these men are visiting Adeluna. They want the Queen to put the pirates down, and of course she will; Adeluna doesn’t need much of a reason to go after Vilpamolan, but at least this time they can claim to be aiding another, and Cittapashe brought a tribute for the Queen. But of course Vilpamolan doesn’t want the ambassadors to reach Adeluna. As for the Bohari, they have profited because merchants are opting to travel overland through the plains and the Valley to reach the North. Maradona also suspects the Egjorans are involved somehow, but they’re careful and hide it.” She leaned against Galin and took his hand. “It’s possible there will be more Bohari, but we should be safe enough at night. Vilpamolan isn’t exactly known for having soldiers, but it’s possible we’d run into them. It’s the possible Egjoran involvement that has me concerned. My bet would be that they hired someone, if they’re involved at all. I don’t like the idea of some unknown element.”