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“I’ll keep her safe, Jaron,” Tobias promised. “Those terms haven’t changed either.”

I nodded back, then said to Amarinda, “You and Tobias will go to the Falstan camp and set up a tent for medical aid. Within a few days, we’ll need it there just as much as where I’m going. Order the commander to send as many men to Drylliad as he can spare.”

Amarinda nodded back at me, and then she and Tobias rode in one direction while Mott and I turned farther north.

We rode hard toward Drylliad, with heavy thoughts of the disaster that would unfold if the enemy breached those city walls. Harlowe was tasked with preparing an army to defend the city if necessary, but his options were limited. Many of the families who’d come seeking shelter inside the city were inexperienced in fighting anything other than the occasional wolf or wild dog attacking their herds, and most were women charged with protecting their children and elders, whose men had already joined the war.

Perhaps Harlowe would carry out his plan to pull men from the prisons. I wondered if they would fight for Carthya or abandon us at their first opportunity. But Harlowe had promised me he would not include Conner as part of those plans. No matter how desperate our situation became, I wouldn’t trust Conner with my own life, or with the lives of my people.

It was late in the day when we approached the last hill before coming to Drylliad. Mott called my name and stopped, requiring me to stop as well.

He said, “I’ve been watching you since we left the Avenian camp. You’re not as strong as you were before. I’ve seen the way you carry your sword, with two hands now rather than one.”

All I could do was to stare straight forward. “I’m stronger each day. Besides, my will is as strong as always, and that matters more.”

“But the battle is just on the other side of that hill.”

“Yes, and if I must, I’ll fight it with my sword in two hands.”

He wasn’t convinced. “Where’s your armor and your shield?”

“Where’s yours?” I countered. I let go of my irritation and only sighed. “No good king sends his people into battle unless he is there beside them.”

“And no good servant lets him go alone.”

I looked back at him, ever grateful. “You’re no servant, Mott. Not to me, or to anyone. And there is no one I would rather ride into battle with than you.”

“Then we’ll go together,” Mott said. “On to victory, my king.”

“To victory.”

We started forward again, and weren’t too much farther along before the first sounds of war reached our ears. Mott and I looked at each other, withdrew our swords, and then rode into the fray.

Roden’s defense was set up less than a mile outside the walls of Drylliad, and was visible from the minute we crossed the ridge. Although the soldiers of Bymar and Carthya were fighting against other soldiers out on the wide fields ahead of me, the Roving River far to our right became a sort of perimeter that Roden had determined could not be crossed by the enemy. Along the entire river, wide wooden canopies had been built to shield his men from incoming arrows, and the earth was dug up into tall mounds that would barricade against any attacks from straight ahead. The river was narrow here, but it was deep, and except for a few temporary bridges, nobody could cross it without going for a swim. That would make it difficult for the enemy to breach the lines, but not impossible.

I intended to make it impossible.

My purpose was to get inside the castle walls, or better yet, to get a messenger in there. But we had to hurry. So instead of diving into the heat of the battle, Mott and I rode farther to the south, encountering a few men on the outskirts. From what we could see, they were mostly from Mendenwal, but since we were still dressed as Avenians, their guard was low and they did not expect our swords when they came.

As we came closer to the lines, however, those same uniforms became our disadvantage. We rode toward a small glen that carried the Roving River beneath the castle walls out to the countryside. We were nearly into the glen when, from out of nowhere, a wall of women came running toward us, screaming and yelling to create confusion and distraction. It worked. Several of the women carried wooden poles, connected to each other by lengths of fabric about the size of a blanket. Before I could react or change course, the women ran on either side of my horse and Mott’s as well. They passed us almost before we saw them coming, and used those stretched blankets to rip us both from our saddles.

With a hard thud, I landed on my back on the ground, while my horse rode away free. Mott had held on better than I did, but the women didn’t give in until they had pulled him down near me.

Farther on, some younger girls caught our horses and swung into their saddles. Then yet another swarm produced swords, which they pressed against our chests, while others removed our weapons. We had been overcome by the mothers and daughters of Carthya, and nicely so. Perhaps they should be my commanders, I thought.

The woman threatening me was tall and simply dressed, and held her sword with confidence. “Invaders of our country, we sentence you to death, under the name of King Jaron of Carthya. Have you any last words?”

“Yes, I do, actually.” I stripped off the helmet I wore so that she might see me better. “Before using that sword, you should know that my name is King Jaron of Carthya.”

She reacted with a gasp and widening eyes, signs she recognized me, and praise the saints that she did. Begging for forgiveness, she removed the weapon from my chest and fell to her knees, as did all the others there.

Mott came over and helped me back to my feet, then I asked the women to rise. The one who had addressed me before said her name was Dawn.

“A name that carries feelings of peace and warmth,” I said. “Your parents could not have known all you were capable of when they gave you that name.”

She smiled back at me. “Few soldiers here know what we’re capable of, Your Majesty. But Roden, the captain of your guard, trusted us to guard this this river. Should any of our people come this way needing to get inside the walls, we bring them in through the passage beneath your castle. But no one else will enter. Forgive us for not recognizing you.”

“Actually, I’m grateful to have been part of your demonstration,” I said, still rubbing my backside. “Down to my bones, I am impressed with you.”

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