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* * *

I wasn't interested, but Solis wanted to watch the Pelipu's troops finish setting up their camp after breakfast, so we went to observe. They'd only erected tents the night before and many of them slept on wet ground since they hadn't dug trenches around the tents. Rain still fell around us, with the occasional rumble of thunder. Quite a few Red Hand troops decided to change the location of their tents, so Solis and I watched as they struggled in the downpour. Higher ground was at a premium and Red Hand's officers had most of that already covered with their tents, leaving the Regulars to scramble for better placement.

Putting up tents in the rain was a tedious task, I discovered, and tent stakes don't hold well in rain-soaked ground. More than a few tents were blown over by occasional high winds. Red Hand's commanders had red striped tents, with the High Commander's tent a solid red. Everybody else had plain canvas, just as the Farus army did.

"Message, Captain Solis," a runner, not more than sixteen or seventeen—I knew by the scent—splashed up beside us, handing a folded note to Solis.

"Commander's meeting in a mark," Solis sighed, stuffing the note in a pocket. "Let's go dry off a bit before we have to show up and decide the pecking order." I trailed behind him, rain dripping off both of us as we went.

* * *

"Take the knife, leave the blades," Solis instructed, just before we left his tent. I'm ashamed to admit I used a little Power to dry off. I was sick of being wet, already. I put my blades, sheaths and harness inside my duffle before splashing after Solis toward the General's tent. His was much larger than any of the others, and he'd been inside the first room, (if you can call something with four cloth walls a room) when I'd delivered Solis' message and then waited for the General's reply.

We walked into the main body of the tent; Solis and the other Captains got a campstool, Sergeants and Lieutenants stood at the back. The High Commander of the Pelipu's troops sat opposite the General, with only a small table between them. Only Captains and Generals got bodyguards, and I and the other bodyguards present knelt next to our Captain's seat. The other officers used a pool of runners to get messages around and depended on the Regulars for safety—they didn't get personal runners, either.

I was the only female in the room, too. Was I surprised? Of course not. I'd seen a few women in the Regulars, and only one female Sergeant so far. She looked as if she could take on a charging bull all by herself. She'd been assigned to keep order among the troops while the meeting was held.

"The Pelipu's instructions are quite clear," the High Commander huffed after lengthy introductions and much posturing took place. "He has placed me in charge. All others answer to me."

"My men will answer to me, first," the General said quietly. "I will discuss orders with you but I will not be taken out of the chain of command. I answer to my King, after all, not yours. This is our country and I am familiar with it. I hold the maps and am able to read them. I know where the enemy is located and can lead you there."

"Very well, but I expect full notification for all significant orders." The High Commander wasn't happy; we all knew that, but the General did have a point—this was his country and he knew where the enemy, such as they were, lived. I was holding off Looking, to be honest. This would be a slaughter unless I did something about it.

There was more discussion, followed by questions and answers afterward, and one of those questions was what would be done if fights and squabbles broke out between the troops. It wasn't difficult to determine that Red Hand might be spoiling for a fight with Farus' army, whom they obviously held in contempt.

"I suggest a joint judgment, with officers from both sides to hear and decide the punishment," Solis offered. That recommendation was eventually agreed upon, with two from each side to be appointed by the General and the High Commander. This march was going to take about a month. How much trouble were they expecting?

The trouble started that afternoon. Two Red Hand troops wanted to cut in line at the mess tent. The Regulars shoved them out. Knives were pulled and three men were cut up—all of them Farus Regulars. Solis was called to the judgment afterward, which meant I was by his side the entire time.

The Red Hand Captains wanted to dismiss it as high spirits. Solis didn't say anything; he chose to allow Captain Cordus to do all the arguing for some sort of punishment instead. Finally, it was decided that the two who'd caused the trouble had to pull night guard duty for a week. Night guard duty consisted of one or two nights before falling to someone else, so a week wasn't such a stretch. I thought that was rather light punishment for slicing up your allies, but I wasn't in charge and wasn't going to be. Not of this rabble.

The rain had finally stopped when we set out the following morning, but we were going to be traveling over extremely wet ground, which meant the wagons would likely be stuck within the first hour or two. They were in the middle of the marching army, since they carried supplies. I'm not sure whom they expected to attack for what we had—the food was terrible.

Our combined army consisted of three thousand Farus troops, twenty-five hundred Red Hand soldiers and a contingent of teamsters, coopers and blacksmiths. I wasn't counting the small group of camp followers that trailed along behind, both male and female. Honestly, we might have been better off with only a few hundred troops since we were going to a massacre, but some people tend to go for overkill.

Solis and I rode along the south side of the marching army, with other officers scattered up and down the line. My poor horse was dubbed Brownie, and he was quite patient with me since I hadn't ridden anything after my short stint on Falchan. Yes, the ass was sore at the end of the day. I mentally told it to get used to this and went on.

There wasn't much chance for the Regulars and Red Hand to get into altercations while we were on the march, but they found a way once we stopped for the day. "Come on, let's watch blade practice while we wait for dinner," Solis turned our horses over to the Regulars assigned to picket duty. I'd been about to take care of the horses myself, but that didn't seem to be my job. Instead, I gave Brownie a pat and followed Solis.

The evenings were the time to get in blade practice, or in many cases, blade lessons. We watched some clacking away with wood blades, out on the muddy ground. The new grass on the practice ground was wet and slippery, too, and the heavy boots of sparring troops had mud churned up in no time. If the soldiers weren't careful, they'd lose their footing and fall right into the muck.

I drew in a deep breath and almost went around Solis when I saw one of The Red Hand troops challenging the boy who'd dropped his practice sword in the dirt the first day. I didn't think he'd improved much in the four days since then, and The Red Hand soldier was comfortable with a blade, I saw that right off. Solis grabbed my arm and pulled me back. I gave him a swift glance; his face was set.

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