Sábria couldn’t think about that now. “This communique sounds like it’s older than the other two. It also sounds like maybe whoever received the letter, probably Lord Renly, was getting cold feet. Interesting.”

  A thin, wiry man whose tunic and hands were covered in blood walked into camp and strode over to Ada. “Had a couple a sentries spot us. Killed ‘em both and hid th’ bodies, but we need to move. Looks like they’re readyin’ to try another run up to th’ rocks.”

  Sábria nodded. “Ada. It’ll take longer for you and your people to get into position than the rest of us. The ten Blades assigned to you are well-trained and will obey your orders. Once the enemy engages the Hunters, you’re free to attack. Assign one of the Blades to stay by your side. If you see Lord Renly, have them signal. Other Blades will relay the whistle to our trumpeter. As soon as she hears the message, she’ll sound the trumpet call. Are all of your people wearing the black headbands?”

  “They are.”

  “Get started then.”

  Ada immediately signaled her warriors. They’d seen the scout reporting to her and were up and waiting for the order to ride. When they saw it, they immediately ran to their horses, which were picketed nearby, saddled and ready. Ada leapt into her saddle.

  Ten Blades ran to where Ty was keeping their horses at the ready. Once everyone was mounted, Ada led her people out of camp.

  With the Lady Knight and her people on their way, Sábria called out, “Soirin.”

  A lithe woman with coal black hair, high cheekbones, and lively, black pearl eyes ran over and saluted. “Yes, My Lady.”

  “You’ll be running with Lord Ashden. You’re to inform him immediately if you hear a ‘quarry located’ whistle.” She turned to Ashden. “Soirin is an Astrian desert nomad, My Lord. She’ll know this terrain better than most. I recommend listening to any advice she might give you about navigating your way to your position.”

  A gleam shone in his eyes. “None better in these conditions than an Astrian whelp. Welcome.” He clapped her on the shoulder to show his appreciation for her skills.

  Soirin nodded and showed her teeth in a wolf-like grin. “Thank you, My Lord.”

  Sábria continued, “As we discussed, you’ll come around from behind in a pincer movement. Wait for me and my Blades to attack if you can. I don’t want the Hunters mistaking you and your people for the enemy. Along those lines, have you made sure everyone has the black headbands?”

  “Yes. Here’s hoping your Hunter managed to sneak up those rocks to deliver the message that our warriors are wearing them to differentiate us from their enemies.”

  “Xyda is the best tracker we have. Her abilities in stealth movement are exceptional. If anyone can get through unseen, she’ll be the one to do it.”

  He looked in the direction of Wakona Beck. “Even we’ve heard of your Hunter Xyda. Whenever Robi plays at being a Blade, what do you think she calls herself? Xyda this and Xyda that. I’m trusting the lives of my people to her abilities. Let’s pray she lives up to her reputation.”

  He signaled to his warriors using hand signs, and one by one, they melted away into the barren, rocky landscape. The rocks to the rear were too large and numerous for horses to navigate, so Lord Ashden and his people were to make their way to their assigned positions on foot. He and Soirin took off at a jog, and soon all that remained were the three Hunters, Sábria, Shirin, Geller, their twenty Blades, and Ty, who would stay at the staging area and care for the horses left behind by the warriors on foot.

  Sábria stepped to where her Blades waited. Anger burned in many eyes—the kind that could get a person killed if they focused on it instead of on the person they were fighting. “I can see that most if not all of you, are livid about what was done to your fellow Blades.” She looked directly at Harda, Maida, and Cladine, needing to know if they still considered themselves Blades.

  Each woman nodded in turn.

  Satisfied, Sábria returned her attention to the other Blades. “I know the information about what's been happening to the Hunters is new to you. Several days ago, it was new to me, too. Except for our two shivs, you're all seasoned Senior Blades and understand that emotions can kill in the middle of a swordfight or battlefield. I'm asking that right now, you put aside your emotions, steady yourselves, and fight as you've been trained. Even with the addition of Lord Ashden's people, we're outnumbered. This isn't going to be easy, but with Elyon on our side, I believe we'll win. I want every one of you to still be alive when we're through.”

  They were all watching her, listening intently to what she had to say. “Even though we just found out that people want to divide us, the Hunters have been living with this for well over a turn now. They're angry. Justifiably so. Xyda, Harda, Maida, and Cladine have had a few days now to come to terms with the fact that I, we, knew nothing about the abuse they were suffering. The Hunters trapped on that hill are only now hearing about it from Xyda.”

  A lot of brows went up as people realized what she was saying. She looked them in the eyes, wanting each one to feel as though she were talking only to them. “The Hunters won't trust us until we convince them we're not the enemy. They'll say angry, hateful things to your faces when the battle is over. I imagine they'll be abusive, insulting⁠—”

  Harda spoke up. “They'll out and out hate you with a vengeance.” She pointed to herself. “I know what happened now, and I'm still struggling not to,” her mouth twisted into disdain and disgust, “revile every person I see wearing the Blade's uniform. It will be one hundred times worse for them.”

  Sábria took back the reins. “Yes, it will. I'm asking you not to react when they come at you. When Blades are injured, we rally behind them like we did with Caitir. These Blades, the Hunters, are hurt. They've been beaten, sometimes, by the very women who were supposed to support and protect them. Now, we will surround and protect them. If they abuse us because they're emotionally and physically wounded, we'll rally around them and be there for them while they work to heal.

  She was glad to see understanding nods from these women. The fact that they were mature women who'd do as she asked helped with what she had to say next. “Because of their anger, they may not stop killing if their attackers surrender. If Commander Shirin, Prime Geller, or I give the surround and capture order, and the Hunters continue fighting, I expect you to bring them down using the least force necessary. If the Commander or the Prime are nearby, let them deal with them before you engage. If the Hunters turn their blades on you, one of the three of us will step in to disarm them. If we do, you're to disengage.”

  She stared down the three Hunters who'd grumbled at her words. “They're still Blades and are subject to my orders.” She turned to Shirin. “The others should be in their places by now. Mount up. Oh, and if you hear Trissa sounding “capture” on her horn, ignore it.” While it was rare for the Blades to be involved in a cavalry charge, they still practiced mounted maneuvers and were trained in the various bugle calls used by a standing cavalry.

  Once everyone was mounted, Sábria wasted no time having the bugler sound the charge. In no time they were racing around the slight hill that had hidden them from view and over the barren ground to where an active attack was already in progress.

  To their credit, the fighters rallied quickly and turned to face Sábria and her people. That is until Ada came charging in from the opposite side, and Lord Ashden and his troops flooded over the hill where the Hunters had taken a stand. At that point, what had been an orderly fight became a chaotic melee of weapons, screams, and shouted orders.

  As Ailith rode into the thick of the battle, her horse was cut down almost immediately. She'd been unable to kick free in time, and the horse landed on her leg and rolled over her. The man who'd brought her down had the skills of an experienced warrior, and the instant the horse rolled off her, he brought his sword down in a move meant to cleave her head in two.

  The shock of being crushed beneath a twelve-hundred-pound animal combined with the feral snarl of a man bringing his sword down on her head brought a red mist falling over Ailith's eyes. Time slowed, and as the man whipped his sword down, she raised her own, blocking it inches from her face. With an enraged bellow, she leapt up and began fighting in earnest, backing the man with a series of moves that had his eyes opened wide in fear.

  Jenx had seen her go down, but she was too busy with her own battle to be able to go to her aid. She sent up a prayer, asking Elyon to kick in Ailith's berserker response sooner rather than later and then put her shiv out of her mind to concentrate on not being killed herself.

  Up on the hill, Hunters erupted from behind the rocks and raced down the hill led by Xyda, the only woman they'd follow without question.

  Sábria had taken the high ground to see the battle from the best advantage possible, and when she saw all ten of the missing Hunters charging after Xyda to join the fight, she couldn't help but whisper, “Thank you, My Lady, for bringing them all back to me.”

  She turned in time to see Ailith's horse go down and had just gotten ready to kick her mount into an all-out sprint downhill when she saw her jump out from beneath the beast in time to block a blow that would have killed most of her Blades. She nodded with grim satisfaction when she saw her shiv's inner berserker kick in and knew she'd be fine from that point on, well as fine as any of her Blades could be in the middle of such a chaotic, disorganized battle.

  The ten Hunters mowed a bloody swath down the middle of the barren ground. It seemed Maida’s alternative guess as to the enemy’s skills was the correct one. While their opponents were peasants, they were far from lacking in fighting skills. The attackers outnumbered the Blades by a third more bodies, and at times, several clustered together to get the upper hand over an opponent.

  Since Xyda was such a formidable fighter, a group of three had surrounded her and were using a thrust-and-retreat tactic to tire her out. They'd gotten in several shallow nicks that, from Sábria's viewpoint, showed up as tears in the fabric of her tunic and trews.

  She'd just about decided to ride down to help when a far-off whistle sounded. Despite fighting their enemies, one by one, Blades repeated it over and over. It didn’t matter that they didn’t know who’d been spotted or where. They were trained in battlefield communication and passed the message along without breaking stride. Sábria searched the battlefield, trying to find some clue as to where Lord Renly had been spotted.

  “There, Milady.” Trissa pointed across the field at Shirin, who’d moved her gelding away from the main fighting to give herself time to deliver her message. She faced Sábria but was pointing her sword up the hill.

  Sábria turned to look in the direction indicated but didn’t immediately see anyone. Then, finally, she saw what her second had seen. A man climbing the side of the hill toward the rocks where the Hunters had barricaded themselves. It hadn't been the presence of the movement that had caught her eye but rather the stealthiness that had attracted her attention. The man wore a peasant's tunic, but as Sábria watched him move from rock to rock, she finally saw what she was looking for.

  Renly had broken both legs in a riding accident turns before and, as a result, walked with a unique tilt to his pelvis caused by the shortening of one leg over the other. It hadn't kept him from fulfilling his duties as a Knight, and he had, in fact, overcompensated by becoming a better swordsman than he’d been before the accident. “Got you, you filthy bastard.” Sábria turned to her bugler. “Sound capture.”

  The bugler put the horn to her lips and blew a long note with a rising note at the end. She blew it three times and then waited to see if Sábria wanted her to repeat it.

  Sábria stood in her stirrups and searched the battlefield. “Do you see Lord Ashden?”

  “Over there.” Trissa pointed in the exact opposite direction to where Sábria was looking.

  Sábria turned her horse around and saw Ashden fighting two men at once. “Sound it again to get his attention.”

  Trissa did, and as Sábria watched, Soirin, who’d just run a man through, shoved him off her sword and turned to find the source of the bugle call. When she’d found them, she moved in and engaged one of the fighters attacking Lord Ashden. She made quick work of him, and since Ashden was now fighting one-on-one, his attacker had no chance against a trained Knight.

  When Ashden killed his man, Soirin grabbed his shoulders and pulled him around so he was facing Sábria, something that probably didn’t sit well with him but also something that couldn’t be helped. She pointed uphill to where Sábria and her bugler sat.

  Sábria could tell by the way his head moved back and forth that he couldn’t locate them. Without taking her gaze off him, she ordered, “Sound it again.”

  When she did, Ashden located them by following the bugle’s distinctive call.

  “Now, point that thing that way.” Sábria stood in her stirrups again and pointed her sword to where she'd last seen Renly.

  Trissa planted both feet in the seat of her saddle and stood, standing high above both Sábria and her horse, which stood with amazing patience for having a woman standing on his back. With big, wide arcs, she pointed in the direction Sábria had indicated.

  “Get down.” Sábria's order was sharp and loud and Trissa quickly dropped into the saddle. “Did you forget there are archers on the battlefield?” At the younger woman's blush—Trissa was nearing twenty-seven turns, but she had the maturity of a much younger Blade—Sábria relented. “But you got his attention. Thank you.”

  Lord Ashden had taken off on the run to find Lord Renly. He and Sábria were of an age, but his bulk, mostly muscle, slowed him down considerably. Although she hadn’t assigned Soirin as Ashden’s backup, she was glad to see her Blade following in his wake.

  With that done, Sábria turned back to the battlefield and watched Ailith run to where Xyda had fallen over the body of the one attacker she’d managed to kill out of the original three. The other two were moving in, but in an astonishing display of swordsmanship, Ailith engaged them both, pushing them back until Xyda could get to her feet and engage one while Ailith continued to attack the second.

  “Goddess bless, Milady. I’d heard th’ shiv were good with a sword, but where’d she learn th' slashin'? Lady Isobel teach her, or did she learn in th' Dreyutha army? Fowk! Look at th' way she's plowin' through them warriors.”

  Sábria didn’t have the luxury of only watching her shiv, so she ignored Trissa and took in what was happening around the battlefield. Between Ailith, Shirin, Geller, Xyda, and the Hunters' fury, the fight quickly turned into a bloody rout. More heads and body parts were lying on the ground than Sábria had ever seen. “Sound surround and capture.”

  Even though Trissa was immature, she was an excellent, disciplined bugler. She immediately put the horn to her lips and sent the call telling the Blades to break off fighting if possible and capture those willing to surrender.

  Sábria watched her Blades step back and shout at their opponents that they’d lost. They ordered them to look around and give up the fight. Some of the attackers continued fighting, others attempted to run while still others dropped their weapons and raised their arms in the air. Her people began herding the latter into a circle away from the few fights still taking place.

  It was a relief that Lord Ashden's people were disciplined enough to recognize what was happening and direct their opponents there as well. Most of the Hunters obeyed the call, but three continued fighting as though they hadn't heard it at all.

  In a practiced maneuver, Shirin and Geller ran to the nearest of the three and stepped in between the Hunter and the man they were intent on killing. Standing back-to-back, they forced the two fighters away from one another. Once they were separated, in a prearranged tactic, other Blades stepped in to subdue the Hunter and give Renly’s warrior the option of surrendering, which they all did.

  Shirin and Geller repeated their tactic with the remaining two Hunters who’d disregarded the command to break off the attack. As soon as nearly all of the fighting was stopped, the prisoners were forced to their knees, disarmed, and made to lie prone with their arms out to their sides until a Blade could secure their hands behind their backs.

  Sábria's attention wasn't on them, though. Away from the battle and hidden from view of most of the fighters, Ailith had somehow found Maida’s assassin, or he’d found her. Either way, neither was inclined to break off their attack. Their blades flew through the air, moving so fast as to be nearly invisible. The steady, swift clang as metal met metal was a testament to just how fast the two whipped their weapons back and forth to create an opening in which they could kill their opponent.

  Without taking her eyes off of Ailith, Sábria barked a sharp command to Trissa. “Join the circle and guard the prisoners.” Kicking Shadowfoot into an all-out gallop, Sábria hoped to get to Ailith before the swordsman, who was indeed exceptional, cleaved her in two. She recognized the abilities of an assassin when she saw them and wasn’t one hundred percent convinced that despite being a berserker, Ailith was up to fighting someone of this man’s abilities.

  The man’s grim smile suggested he was playing with her. Each feint and thrust was deliberate, like a predator toying with its prey, savoring the thrill of the hunt. With a calculated shift in the pattern of attack, the man put Ailith on the defensive. Unfortunately, with her blood up, the shiv wouldn't be able to disengage. She was holding her own, though, and blocked his attack swing for swing.

  Ada and Jenx stood poised and ready as they watched for an opening to step in and stop the fight. The man was clearly enjoying himself, and even as she urged her horse to go faster, Sábria recognized in him the euphoria a fanatic experiences when fighting to prove his skills against someone with equal or nearly equal abilities. He’d fight to the death, not caring about anyone else on the battlefield except the one who dared challenge him.

  Ailith’s movements faltered, but instead of the joy of the kill filling her opponent’s eyes at what would normally be a portent of victory, the man’s triumphant sneer wavered when she planted her feet and bared her teeth in a rictus of fury and unholy bloodlust. Suddenly, with a protracted snarl, her abilities and speed seemed to double.