Éhal moaned and fought down panic. “Take me to Baldric,” she said. Don’t think, she thought. Keep going. Stay involved. Be useful.

“You may leave us.” It was Baldric’s voice. She heard his footfalls as he approached her and took her arm. “Come... there is a place to sit here. I hope your injury was worth the price you seem to have paid. I am sorry, but I must know what you overheard.”

“The vanguard is led by a man. A northerner,” she said. “He has drawn them maps, and I suspect has worked other mischief.”

“We have seen this man,” said Baldric, “though by his attire, we could not guess his origin. There is more?”

Éhal swallowed. “Sire, at present, only their vanguard is bound for Lund. The main body of their army is travelling northwest and southeast to attack Astargoth and the Demon King. I believe the vanguard has been sent only to hold he valley of the River Grey against the Demon King’s forces. I believe he expects us to fall back to Lund’s defenses and be destroyed there.”

Baldric was silent a moment. “That would explain their leisurely advance,” he said. “Is that all?”

“It is, sire,” she replied. “Sire, may I ask a boon?”




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