It was dark as Ollie flew over the enemy army. It was a heavy risk, even in the dark, so he had a barrier beneath himself just in case he was seen and they decided to take potshots at him. It was a sea of horned men, lizardfolk, and even a few of those hideous scorpion-like creatures. They were lit by numerous fires, as well as the light of several small rifts out of which two or three of them would occasionally appear. He reached Lataxia and hovered for a moment. While direct trade with them had been impossible, smaller groups had been able to make it to and from, especially since they’d sealed so many of the further out rifts. The city was fortified and well supplied. They’d had a medium sized group of troops already quartered there as well as nearly a hundred knights. Unfortunately, this was a city without walls, one that had grown organically over time. As such, it was a difficult place to defend, and a number of smaller raids by horned men had already taken place.

  Ollie had asked Lance why the Hume soldiers hadn’t just attacked the growing army between them and Lataxia sooner. He’d told him that there were a few reasons. One, they needed to gather their own forces. Two, they wanted to buy Lataxia as much time to fortify as they could because their army was almost certainly going to be driven in their direction once things started. Three, they genuinely weren’t sure they would win. It wasn’t as if the city had enough of a force in place before the enemy army had gathered that it would be like trapping them in a vice. Most of their soldiers had been spread out to aid with rifts elsewhere before the army had gathered.

  They were in better shape to fight them off now. They’d managed to gather soldiers, knights, and diviners in good numbers. Lataxia had managed to prepare a stronger defense, and a number of outer rifts had been cleared which had slowed reinforcements to the enemy, while allowing them more freedom of movement for other groups of troops. Still, it was a close thing, and as Ollie turned around to fly back over the enemy he wasn’t sure which way it would go. All he was sure of, was that he’d be melting them by the dozens once things kicked off.

  He landed at camp where Knight Captain Leon, General Malkun, and Lance were waiting for him.

  “So? How many?” Malkun asked.

  “Somewhere between a fuckton and an assload.”

  Lance coughed at him.

  “Five thousand-ish. Maybe more.” They’d taught him a few tricks for counting large numbers of soldiers back in Stent, but it really came down to just doing your best to estimate things.

  “And how was Lataxia looking?” asked Leon.

  “They had guards and soldiers ready and waiting. Every alley they could board up was boarded up, and they seemed to be preemptively moving non-combatants deeper into the city into some older stone constructions just in case. There were traps all throughout the alleys as well, and men and women had stacked heavy stones to drop from rooftops or throw where they could.”

  “It’s going to be a nightmare,” said Malkun, shaking his head. “When they start their attack we’re just going to be driving them inside our own city. Even if we win, we’ll be clearing them out for days, and in the meantime who knows how many other rifts will open?” He shook his head. “And if we lose they’ll have taken one of our only cities, and their cooking fires will be burning for days.”

  “We won’t lose,” replied Leon. “We have the numbers, we’ve cut them off from most of their reinforcements, and we’ve been able to pull more support with how calm the fringes are. Take heart, old friend.”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Malkun just shrugged. “I just like to prepare for the worst.”

  The Knight-Captain turned to Lance and Ollie.

  “You both get some rest. The way they’re massing we’re anticipating they’ll start to move soon. We need to be as ready as we can be.”

  They saluted, and began walking toward the tents.

  “You know, I think I’d like to have a house at some point,” mused Ollie.

  “Really? Why?” asked Lance.

  “I’m so tired of sleeping in tents mate. Setting them up, taking them down, sleeping on what’s basically just hard dirt. I wanna sleep on a damned bed with a nice roof. Maybe a metal one so I can hear the rain come down a bit better.” He shivered a little. “Imagine the sleep.”

  “Oh? I’m sure my family would be willing to give you a room at the estate. They have several that are open.”

  “S’not the same. I want to put some of Davi’s drawings on the wall, nail some shelves to the wall for random crap I like. Make it nice and personal.”

  “I think Dame Bina would be quite upset about the nails on the walls.”

  Ollie chuckled at that and they walked in silence for a few moments.

  “Think he’s alive?” asked Lance.

  “Yep. You.”

  “Can’t imagine him dying.”

  “What if I was missing? Would you be saying the same thing?”

  “No, it’s harder to believe that you’re still alive actually. I can imagine dozens of ways for you to die.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Impaled by a spear, crushed by a club, hit by a fireball in the sky, the list goes on.”

  Ollie laughed. “Let’s not forget tripping and breaking my neck on a rock. “

  They reached the tents and said goodnight and good luck in case things moved so quickly they missed one another on the battlefield. Ollie went to eat something and once he was done he went into his tent where he found Knight Blake waiting for him.

  “Really Kara? Don’t you think we should get some rest before battle?”

  “I want my head clear for the fighting. This is a good way to get rid of the pre-fight jitter.”

  “Fine, but I’m not making us both fly in the air this time.”

  “You sure? It’s dark. I don’t think anyone would see us.”

  “I need my magicka ready more than the rest of me.”

  “Fair enough,” she said, grabbing his jacket collar and drawing him into a kiss.

  …

  Lance sat in his tent for a few moments, his thumb slowly sliding across a metal six pointed star. It had originally been on a chain, but he hadn’t felt comfortable wearing it. He wasn’t sure of exactly why. Many people had started wearing them openly. Knights, soldiers, militia, regular people by the hundreds had all begun openly practicing the new faith. Wherever Michael had gone a group of worshippers had formed. He’d had no trouble wearing everything about himself on his sleeve back in Stent. His lineage, his titles and deeds, he wanted everyone to know them. Was he embarrassed? He’d admitted to praying to Seras to Michael, but Michael wasn’t going to have any negative judgments about that. Was he worried about Dame Bina? Or Delia? A little, but they’d accepted him as a deserter so he couldn’t imagine worshipping the divine would turn their opinions on him.

  He shook his head. He was thinking in circles. The anxiety of the upcoming battle was making his mind latch onto any stray thoughts and drive them deep into the ground. He was grateful he hadn’t been obsessing about his father and brother this time at least. He clenched the symbol of the divine in his fist for a moment, closing his eyes and whispering a few prayers. One for each of them, even Nykas, and two for Seras. With each one he felt his anxiety diminish. Perhaps it was the gods reaching down directly to help soothe him, but more likely it was the simple repetition. Whatever the case, he laid down as he said one more prayer, and somehow managed to fall asleep.

  …

  A dream passed all throughout the camp that night. It drifted from person to person. From the knight-captain and the general down to the militiamen and camp followers. In it they felt as if they had just fallen down. Their backs were sore and there was an exhaustion deep in their bones. They looked up, and standing above them was a figure of gold reaching toward them, holding out their hand. The figure was different for each of them. It was a woman in armor holding a shield, a jolly man with a wide smile, a stern faced man with a craftsman’s hammer, the person they loved the most, a man with muscles so powerful the light he was made of pulsed with each movement of them, or a woman made of golden letters. When they took the hand that was offered, they felt certainty, they felt courage. When the horn blew to tell them that the attack had begun, they all awoke with steel in their spines and fire in their hearts.