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the scars most sported, it was clear they were veterans of some sort.

Yasin took the lead once more, leading them along a goat track high above the Fortress Illmoor. From below, Romaine would not have thought it possible to traverse these rugged cliffs. Indeed, the trail was not without risk. Not only were they exposed should any of the defenders decide to look up, but a single misstep would see them plummet hundreds of feet to the rocks below.

No wonder they hadn’t started this section of the trail until the sun had begun to rise. Thankfully the queen had timed her distraction well, and with their weapons and armour covered by cloth to prevent them reflecting the sun, Romaine prayed their passage would go unnoticed. If not…well, then no doubt Nguyen would have a welcoming party waiting for them.

Romaine tightened his fist at the thought. He was still practising the sword with Lorene and the queen had gifted him a shield which could be strapped to his left arm rather than held. But the chest injury still hindered him and his progress had been slow. He needed more time to regain his former skill—time he did not have.

At least he was healed enough not to slow their progress. Yasin did not seem overly happy to have them along, but Amina had insisted. They needed someone Cara knew if they were to rescue her out from under the Archivist’s nose, though Romaine still hadn’t been filled in on the details of that plan.

Their journey continued, winding along the tops of cliffs and across treacherous slopes. All the while, the battle raged on. When the queen had first mentioned this trail, Romaine had wondered why she didn’t send a larger force to attack the fortress from behind. Afterall, the Illmoor Fortress had only been designed to defend against a foreign aggressor. Now he understood. It would be a miracle if they passed unnoticed and without incident—a greater force would be spotted in minutes.

Entering the centre of the pass, Romaine wondered at the queen’s boldness. Nguyen’s soldiers were well-armed and taking a terrible toll on those attempting to reach the ramparts. The bloodshed was terrible to behold. It seemed a terrible price to pay for a distraction. And all for what? To save one woman.

Or to save a God?

The distinction was still muddled in Romaine’s mind, his memories of Cara seemingly split into two people. There was the Goddess he had seen on the shores of the Illmoor, wings spread, eyes burning with untold power. But there was also the sweet, innocent young woman he had known in Fogmore. That woman felt far more real to Romaine, his memories of the days they’d spent training together, the sharp smiles and her flitting romance with the recruit Travis crystal clear. Despite the importance of the Goddess, it was that Cara he searched for, that Cara he sought to rescue.

An hour passed quickly in their desperate race across the mountainside, up spires of rock and down into twisted gulleys, their passage all the time punctuated by the distant shrieks of weapons clashing, the howls of the dying. Romaine kept his eyes on the trail, thankful that Yasin seemed to know his way. It made him wonder how many times the man had crossed this way, what other undertakings he might have performed in the lands of the Gemaho.

Though whatever disreputable actions the queen might have taken against the kingdom, Romaine couldn’t help but think it was justice. The king’s cowardice in abandoning the alliance had left Calafe exposed, their armies too weak to withstand the Tangatan assault. As their kingdom inexorably fell to the creatures, Romaine and his comrades had often cursed the man’s name.

What sort of king hid behind his walls while the rest of the world burned, while his former allies fought and died in the name of freedom?

Such cravenness could only bring fate down upon such a man—and his kingdom, too. Romaine prayed to the Gods above that he would live to see the day.

Finally they moved beyond the sheer cliffs into deeper grooves in the mountainside. Pillars of stone rose around them, shielding the company from view of those below. The path also widened, allowing Lorene and Romaine to walk abreast. The normally cheerful scout wore a grim expression as they started the climb down towards the lands of Gemaho.

“You okay, lad?” Romaine grunted.

The scout flashed Romaine a glance. “That battle seemed far too bloody for a distraction,” he said after a while. “What is Queen Amina thinking, committing so many of our soldiers to an assault on Gemaho?” He gestured towards the south. “Has she forgotten the Tangata are still out there?”

Romaine said nothing for a while, though the scout was voicing the same concerns that had plagued him these last days. Finally he shook his head.

“Best not to question the scheming of monarchs,” he murmured, though he could see his words did not mean much to the soldier. After all, it was Lorene’s countrymen who were dying below.

“You really think we can find her?” the scout said after a time. “I doubt the king would be so foolish as to keep her in the fortress.”

Romaine grimaced, recalling Nguyen’s words from their meeting. “No,” he replied, eyeing the men who went ahead of them. “But I have a feeling the queen is relying on that.”

A frown touched Lorene’s forehead as he followed Romaine’s gaze. “Who are they?” he said softly, so the words would not carry to Yasin or the others. “Seems strange to send a bunch of mercenaries on a mission of such importance.”

“They’re not mercenaries,” Romaine replied. “Yasin is far too comfortable with the queen. And despite their appearance, they’re just a little too professional about all this business.”

Lorene nodded. “You’re probably right.” Then he smiled. “Ah well, least we’re not marching with a bunch of sellswords who’d turn on us the second old Nguyen offered a bigger pile of gold.”

Romaine grunted his agreement, but did not voice

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