Ava bent and rubbed under a few chins, and the dogs crowded around closer, all wanting some of her attention. “These were the hounds sent to chase me down, Tomas.”
The estate manager went still, and then smiled. “Now that sounds like a story your grandmother would have wanted to hear.” He gestured to the house. “It's all yours, now, unless your parents . . .?”
“I saw my mother's body myself.” Ava couldn't keep the grief out her voice. “I heard my father died, too, and I have no reason to disbelieve it.”
“Then this is yours, and you need to visit the Grimwalt court and let them know what happened to you.”
She didn't contradict him, letting him take the dogs to give them food and water, and make a place for them in the stables.
But as she stepped into house, she consider the suggestion and rejected it.
She had never had official dealings with the court. That had been her grandmother's role and while she had met many of the sons and daughters of the elected leaders of Grimwalt, she had never spent time with their parents.
Grimwalt, unlike Kassia, did not have a noble class. So those in control of the court now would not be the same as those she had mixed with before.
They had closed the borders in deference to her grandmother, though.
That probably meant they deserved at least a letter of explanation.
But actually going to court, getting caught up in meetings, and perhaps even coming face-to-face with some of Kassia's diplomats, if any were still left there, now the borders were closed, would be nothing but a huge waste of time.
She had a Herald to track down and administer justice to.
And she didn't want to wait.
Not when she had someone waiting for her on the eastern plains.
The camp spread out before him, the lights from fires and a few torches illuminating members of his army as they talked quietly, or moved between the tents.
Luc swung down from the saddle and stood in the dark, looking at it.
He had never expected it to grow this big.
When he'd turned against the Kassians, slipped away the night before the battle and sought out the Venyatux camp with a proposal for their generals, he had never considered it would grow into something this huge.
That he would be responsible for so many.
And yet, this was the way to victory, and so he accepted it.
Accepted the weight of responsibility that came with it.
In the name of his mother, who had literally thrown herself in front of an army to protect him.
That sacrifice would not be for nothing.
He had made that promise when he'd seen her body, and then every day of his life in the Chosen camp he'd been sent to. Looking at the tent city lying before him, he made it again.
A sound, something he barely registered, came from his left, and he pivoted, sword raised, to block the strike that came down on him.
Metal met metal with a high-pitched ring, eager and sharp. But this had to be a watch guard from his own camp, and Luc did not want to kill whoever they were.
He jumped back, sword raised. “Who is there?”
His attacker paused, then stepped forward, so a little of the light from below lit his face.
“Commander?” He gaped at Luc, and then dropped his sword. “I . . .”
“What's this?” A voice called from the dark behind the guard, and Reven appeared, the stocky warrior holding a sword in one hand, an axe in the other.
“The Commander.” The guard gave Reven a stricken look, but Reven didn't even glance at him. He threw both weapons to the ground with a roar and grabbed Luc up in a hug.
“I knew they couldn't keep you for long. I knew it!”
More calls came out of the darkness, and Luc was soon surrounded by men and women, exclaiming and whooping.
He had to grab his spooked horse before it bolted, and they walked down the hill together.
Much later, he sat in the big meeting tent with Reven, Massi and Dak, wine cup in hand, and thought of Ava.
Of whether she had had as warm a welcome as he had.
“So, now we're alone, let's hear the details.” Massi leaned forward and poured more wine into her cup, then leaned back to watch him with eyes that gleamed in the firelight.
“First, who was it that told the watch guards to strike first, ask questions later?”
There was a beat of silence.
“What do you mean?” Dak frowned.
“I mean I was almost killed by one of my own army while walking into camp. I expected to have to announce myself, but if I hadn't heard the snick as they drew their sword, you'd be weeping over my body, not drinking to my health.”
Reven cleared his throat. “I heard a horse. Sent the watch guard ahead to stop whoever was coming our way. I never thought—”
Massi turned to stare at him, and so did Dak. “You told him to kill?”
“I didn't think I did, but he must have thought that's what I meant.”
“Someone is coming to join me when she’s completed her own business. I don't want her cut down as she walks in. If someone even touches her, the consequences won't be pretty.”
“No one should be cut down. It's better to have someone to question than a body, anyway.” Massi was still looking at Reven.
“What?” He glared at her. “I made a mistake.”
“There is no room for mistakes any more, Rev.” Dak crossed his arms. “What would have happened to us if your guard had killed Luc?”
“I'll speak to the watch tomorrow.” Reven ducked his head.
“I'll speak to everyone tomorrow,” Luc corrected. “There is going to be no doubt in anyone's mind how things stand.”
Rev looked up, a flash of fury in his eyes, before he shook his head and gripped his cup. “That's a good idea, anyway. They'll want to hear how you got away.”
“The friend who'll be joining me is how. She helped me escape, not once, but twice.”
“A Kassian?” Massi asked, her eyes narrowed.
“A Grimwaldian. A fellow prisoner in the dungeon. I very conveniently arrived just as she was about to escape herself. Fortunately, she consented to including me in her plan.”
“Where is she now?” Dak leaned forward, elbows on knees.
“She had business in Grimwalt.”
“But she's coming to join you later?” Massi raised a brow.
“Yes.”
“Because . . .?” Reven slowly took a sip of wine.
Luc threw back the last dregs from his cup. “Because—”
A small woman burst through the tent flaps. She was fast, running a few steps and then jumping onto a chest, using it to launch herself into the air, a curved blade in her hand. She brought it down at an angle to slice at Luc's neck, and Luc reached for his sword and arced his arm upward, cutting her hand as she brought it down.
The woman screamed as she fell, and Massi was on her as soon as she landed, a knee in her back and a knife to her throat.
With a gasp, the woman twisted up, pressing her neck against Massi's blade, impaling herself on it, and then fell down, blood gushing from her wound.
Massi turned to stare at him, shock on her face. “Did you—?”
Luc knelt beside the woman, but she was already unconscious and after a few moments, dead.