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“If I can assist in any way, you have but to ask,” Rudhira promised.
“I know. But enough fussing over me. We have work to do.”
Rudhira pointed out into the camp, where Chargers were stepping in and out of sight with horse-drawn carts. “Your supplies from the Empress will move through here.”
Solia’s gaze followed the trunks and crates that were levitating and stacking themselves neatly in a supply tent. “I miss spirit gates already.”
“I don’t blame you for being uneasy that your supply line relies on personal delivery by fanged heretics,” Rudhira said without a twitch of his lips.
Solia gave a faint snort. “And I can hardly blame your firstbloods for disliking that Orthros is directly involved in outfitting a human army.”
“What army?” Cassia asked innocently. “Orthros’s official involvement is purely diplomatic. We are merely fostering trade between our Imperial and Tenebran allies.”
“And we have gifts for our allies, as well,” Rudhira said. “If you will accompany me.”
He led them out of the pavilion and through orderly clusters of vibrant red tents. The paths were marked by low stone walls and time-worn archways, all overgrown with the scarlet roses. At the edge of the camp, the vines gave way to a clearing.
Beyond lay the verge of the Tenebran woods. Cassia drifted to a halt, her robes snagging on thorns, and looked into the shadows between the oak trees. All her senses seemed to follow her gaze, reaching deep into the wild gloom.
“Cassia?” Lio’s soft query brought her back. “What do you sense?”
“The forest has…a presence now. Well, I suppose it always has. But now I know it’s there.” She shook her head.
“That’s a promising sign,” Lio said, but Cassia did not miss the slight frown on his face as he gently disengaged the thorns from her robes.
She had scarcely noticed that a small herd of the Charge’s horses grazed in the clearing. She put Knight in a sit-stay, since the Hesperines’ breed of horse, the Orthros Warmblood, did not take kindly to liegehounds.
One of the powerful, elegant warhorses trotted over to Rudhira. The gray mare gazed at him with doe eyes while he stroked her nose. It seemed of all Rudhira’s many admirers, here was one lady who held his heart in return.
“Is this your famous familiar, Veil?” Cassia asked.
“Do you hear that, girl?” Rudhira asked the mare. “Your legend precedes you.”
Then another image from legend manifested in the clearing. Nike rode into sight out of thin air on Blackthorn, her own warhorse and familiar. A number of other horses followed Blackthorn’s lead without a tether.
Rudhira raised a brow at Nike. “Your mother let you leave Orthros?”
“She knows I’m coming back within an hour, not a century.” Nike dismounted, straightening her Stand regalia.
“She made me promise I wouldn’t try to recruit you into the Charge,” Rudhira said. “Your family is determined to keep you on Aunt Nike duty and have you babysit sucklings instead of Hesperines errant.”
“That was an easy promise for you to make,” Nike returned. “I know you don’t want me here, beating you in front of the youngbloods as I did in the arena the other night.”
Rudhira’s eyes glinted. “On the contrary, I insist on a rematch in front of my Chargers. They’ll learn so much watching me defeat the Victory Star.”
Blackthorn had trotted over to Veil to exchange greetings. Orthros Warmbloods had long lifespans and uncanny intelligence. No doubt Rudhira and Nike’s familiars had missed each other, too.
Among the other horses, Cassia recognized Mak and Lyros’s black familiars and Lio’s tall white horse, Moonflower. When she saw who else Nike had brought, her throat grew tight.
The golden warhorse had carried Solia across the Empire, even through the Maaqul to find Cassia. Cassia suspected the mare had been one of her sister’s few friends and confidants during her silent years in the Golden Shield.
The horse nudged her head against Solia’s chest. Solia murmured to her, running her hand down the mare’s neck.
“How did you manage this?” she asked Nike, her voice thick. “She belongs to the Golden Shield. They wouldn’t let me take her.”
Nike smiled. “Mother breeds all the Golden Shield’s horses. She called in a favor to get your girl decommissioned.”
Solia rested her face on the mare’s forehead. “You have my gratitude.”
