The Dark-Eyes War

Chapter 13

Two days after their attack on the first sept, the Eandi army encountered their second Fal'Borna settlement. This one was larger than the first and it didn't appear to have been damaged by the plague. It also was situated in a part of the plain that had fewer rises and dales. The army had no hope of taking these Fal'Borna by surprise. In fact, Tirnya and her father were quite certain that the Qirsi spotted their army only a short time after their forward scouts caught sight of the sept.

"Now our planning will be tested," Jenoe muttered, eyeing the terrain around the settlement, seeming to search for any advantage the land might offer them.

To Tirnya's untrained eye, the landscape appeared to offer little.

"We should do this without the Mettai, Marshal," Gries said, looking regal on his white stallion.

Jenoe shook his head, still surveying the plain. "I'm not convinced that we can, Captain Ballidyne. These Fal'Borna are at full strength, and they know we're here. Fighting the white-hairs on such terms is what led to our loss of these lands in the first place."

"Wolves, then?" Tirnya asked.

Her father glanced at her. Then he turned to one of the scouts who had first brought word of the settlement. "Bring the eldest. Quickly."

The man bowed in his saddle, and then rode back toward the Mettai.

"We'll have to ride closer," Gries said. "That's what the eldest will say. Last time, the white-hairs went for our mounts and raised a mist. If this is a full sept, they may well have several Weavers. They could attack us with shaping and fire as well as the rest."

"What would you suggest then, Captain?" asked Marshal Crish.

"If they've seen us, there's nothing we can do," Enly said, before Gries could answer. "This has been the risk all along, hasn't it? We based our strategy on the assumption that the Fal'Borna have been weakened by the plague. The first settlement had been. But it seems that the plague spared some septs and now we have to fight our way through." He hesitated, his eyes flicking toward Tirnya. "Or we have to turn back right now."

Tirnya hoped that others-her father? Gries? Hendrid?-would rush to gainsay him, but no one said a word.

"We're not leaving," she finally said.

Enly nodded once, as if he'd expected her to say as much. "Then I'd suggest we prepare for battle. And I'd also suggest that we give free rein to the Mettai."

Gries frowned. "Free rein? You can't be serious."

"I am. I don't know about you, Captain, but I'd like to survive this war. We're facing a Fal'Borna army; a true one this time. None of us has ever done that before. This is no time to get squeamish about resorting to magic of any sort. Given the choice between a couple of Fal'Borna Weavers and those wolves we saw the other day, I'll take the wolves in a heartbeat."

"That may not be the only choice," Jenoe said in a tone seemingly intended to end their discussion. "Here comes the eldest."

They all turned. Fayonne and her son were striding purposefully in their direction, following the mounted scout. The rest of the Mettai were behind them.

"I brought all of my people, Marshal," the eldest said, stopping in front of Jenoe. "I hope you don't mind. I assumed that you'd have me send for them soon enough."

A faint smile flickered on Jenoe's face. "Thank you, Eldest. I appreciate your foresight."

She inclined her head, then looked past him toward the sept. "We've found another settlement, I see."

"Yes. There's no evidence that the plague has struck this one. We'll be facing a full Fal'Borna sept this time."

Her eyebrows went up, but otherwise she offered no response.

Jenoe glanced at Tirnya, uncertainty in his deep blue eyes. "We're wondering what kind of magic you think might work against such a force," he continued after a moment.

Fayonne turned to her son. "The sleeping spell worked well last time, as did the finding spell."

"Yes," Mander said. "Either of those."

"But don't we have to be close to the sept for you to use that kind of magic?" Gries asked.

"Yes, Captain," Fayonne said. "We'll have to be far closer to the sept for just about any of our spells to work. That's the nature of Mettai magic."

"Can you do anything to help with their horses?" Tirnya asked.

Fayonne looked puzzled. "Their horses?"

"Well, last time the Fal'Borna used language of beasts against our mounts and we had to advance on foot. I assume that these Fal'Borna will do the same. But they'll be on horses, which gives them an advantage if it comes to close fighting."

"The blood wolves," the eldest said plainly. "They can attack their horses. Their mere presence will unnerve the animals." She shrugged. "But you've made it clear that you don't want us to conjure any more of them."

Tirnya took a breath, holding the woman's gaze. "Well, I may have to accept that we have no choice in the matter."

The woman shrugged again, her bearing maddeningly calm.

"Pardon me, Eldest," Enly said. "You said a moment ago that we had to be closer for just about any of your magic to work. Are there spells you can use from this distance?"

"There may be one or two," Fayonne said. "But if you didn't like the blood wolves, you might not like these conjurings, either."

"Why not?" Jenoe asked. "What are they?"

"Early in the Blood Wars, when we first fought alongside your people, we had many sorts of creatures that served our armies. The wolves were one. There were also blood eagles, great birds of prey that could attack an enemy from the sky. They could he sent forth from farther away. Of course, the Qirsi could fight them off with shaping magic, but the eagles were said to be deft fliers. Some of them might be able to avoid the conjurings of the Fal'Borna."

Gries wore a troubled expression. "I take it you can't control them any more than you could the wolves."

"That's right. But like the wolves, they can be slain with arrows or put to sleep with a spell."

"But until they are, they'll be killing indiscriminately. They won't distinguish between us and the Fal'Borna."

Fayonne regarded the Fairlea captain coldly. "No, they won't. On the other hand, I can assure you that the Qirsi will be quite precise with their killing. Have you heard tales of the Blood Wars, Captain?"

"Yes," Gries said thickly.

"Then you have some idea of what Qirsi shaping magic can do to an army when directed by a Weaver."

"What other creatures did your people use in those early battles?" Jenoe asked, drawing the woman's gaze once more.

"Serpents, bears, hornets."

The marshal's eyebrows went up. "Hornets?"

"As long as a knife blade and with enough venom to bring an Aelean soldier to his knees."

Tirnya felt herself blanch. Suddenly the blood wolves didn't seem so terrible.

"And you can conjure all of these creatures today?" Enly asked.

Fayonne shook her head. "Not all of them, no. I can conjure hornets, but not the kind that my ancestors used against the white-hairs. But the wolves and eagles I can summon are much the same as those used in the Blood Wars."

Jenoe was gazing at the sept again. Tirnya looked that way as well, but saw no evidence that the Fal'Borna were headed toward them. Was it possible that they hadn't spotted the army yet? Or had the white-hairs decided that they wanted to defend their settlement rather than face the Eandi on the open plain?

"Send the eagles," Jenoe said after a brief pause. "You can direct them toward the sept, can't you? They won't turn on us immediately."

"We'll move a bit closer to the settlement," Fayonne told him. "And we'll do everything in our power to send them to the Fal'Borna."

Tirnya's father didn't look satisfied with this reply, but he nodded, perhaps sensing that this was the most assurance he was likely to get.

One thing about the Mettai: Once they were given an order, they didn't waste time in carrying it out. No sooner had the eldest answered Jenoe's concerns than she led her people away from the army and toward the sept.

"I want archers ready to march as soon as these magical eagles are flying," Jenoe said. "And I want swordsmen just behind them. This will work best if the Fal'Borna have to fight off eagles and arrows at the same time."

"Yes, Marshal," Enly said.

He started shouting orders to the men of Qalsyn. Gries and two other captains from Fairlea hurried off to ready their army, and Hendrid's captains started back toward the men of Waterstone.

The Mettai, in the meantime, halted after walking about a hundred fourspans. They pulled their knives free, stooped to pick up handfuls of dirt, cut themselves, and finally gathered blood on the flat edges of their blades and mixed it with the earth in their hands. Tirnya couldn't hear them speaking, but she knew that the next step in this odd process was for all of them to mutter their spells. A moment later, acting in near perfect unison, they flung their clods of bloody mud into the air.

When the Mettai conjured the great wolves during their last encounter with the Fal'Borna, Tirnya had been disturbed by the way the dirt in their hands contorted and grew in those moments before the animals took form. This magic was no different. If anything, it seemed more alien to watch those small clumps of dirt sprout enormous wings and talons and heads. But in just a few seconds, nearly fifty eagles were soaring above the army.

They were larger by far than any bird Tirnya had ever seen. Even from far below, their hooked beaks and sicklelike talons appeared large and sharp enough to rend a full-grown rilda in two. The creatures circled once over the army, and when their shadows passed overhead Tirnya shuddered, feeling as a rabbit must when it finds itself under the gaze of a hawk. But whatever intelligence the Mettai had imparted to the great birds seemed enough to allow them to distinguish between friend and foe, or Eandi and Qirsi. After completing one turn above the soldiers of Stelpana, the birds wheeled toward the sept. They flew in a series of loose columns, like airborne warriors in formation. They gave only one or two flaps of their great wings, and then glided, their tails twisting slightly this way or that to keep them in line.

Fayonne and the Mettai watched them pass back overhead, and then the eldest turned to face Jenoe, as if to say, Now it's your turn.

Tirnya's father looked back at the captains. "Are we ready?" he asked.

"Qalsyn's archers are in place," Enly said. "So are Fairlea's. The men of Waterstone were a bit farther off. And the swordsmen aren't in formation yet."

Jenoe frowned, clearly displeased. "Well, we'll make do with what we have. Have the swordsmen mustered forward as quickly as possible."

"Yes, Marshal."

"Archers, advance!" Jenoe called to the men behind him, gesturing with a raised arm and at the same time spurring his mount to a canter.

A great shout rose from the men, and the bowmen of Qalsyn and Fairlea started toward the sept, their bows ready. Tirnya and the other captains followed the marshal on horseback. When they reached the Mettai, Fayonne and her people began to jog alongside the riders.

Somehow Enly had positioned himself beside Tirnya, though he said nothing to her. For her part, Tirnya barely allowed herself a glance in his direction. Instead, she divided her attention between the great eagles soaring toward the sept and the settlement itself. She still saw no sign that the Fal'Borna were making ready for battle; she saw no white-hairs at all.

"Something's not right," Enly said. "Where are they?"

"Could they have fled?" she asked. "They would have gotten word that we were coming. They may have abandoned the sept or joined forces with another settlement."

Enly shook his head. "There are still horses in the paddock. They're here. They're just waiting for something."

"You should stop here, Marshal," Fayonne called to Jenoe. "Language of beasts. They'll be able to reach you soon."

A moment later, Jenoe reined his horse to a stop and dismounted, though this, too, seemed to darken his mood. Hendrid, the captains, and the lead riders also halted and swung themselves off their mounts. They wasted little time in resuming their advance on foot.

By now the eagles were over the sept and were circling like great buzzards, each turn bringing them lower.

"Are you close enough for a finding spell?" Jenoe asked.

"Not quite," Fayonne said.

Tirnya's father nodded curtly. "They're too close," he said a moment later. "I wanted our archers to be in position before the eagles reached the sept. Now they'll-"

Before he could finish the thought, a harsh, piercing screech split the air, followed by another and another. Several of the lowest eagles suddenly began to thrash violently, their wings bent at odd angles, their talons clenched in tight balls. They struggled for an instant or two and then plunged to the ground. As soon as they landed, men swarmed around them, spears in their hands, their white hair gleaming in the sun.

"Damn!" Fayonne said. "They're using shaping magic."

"Can you send more eagles?" Jenoe asked.

The eldest looked at him and blinked once. "More?" she said, sounding simple.

"Yes! You conjured these eagles. Conjure another flock and send them-"

He broke off as more of the eagles screamed. All of them looked up into the sky in time to see several of the giant birds fall to the earth, their wings broken.

Jenoe faced the eldest again, appearing more desperate by the moment. "Send more of the birds to attack the sept. Perhaps that will allow us to get close enough for your spells and our archers to have some effect."

Fayonne abruptly seemed unsure of herself, as if Jenoe's request was the last thing she had expected.

"You can do that, can't you?"

"I- I think so," she said. "I've never heard of it being done, but I can't see any reason why it can't."

Jenoe nodded once. "Good. Then do it. Now, quickly!"

The eldest still seemed hesitant. She turned to the other Mettai and held up her knife for them to see.

"More eagles," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

The other Mettai didn't appear to be fazed by this at all. Except for the eldest's son, whose face went white. He said nothing, though, and a moment later all of the Mettai had soil in their hands, blood on their blades, and the softly spoken words of the spell on their lips.

Still more eagles screamed out in pain and tumbled to the ground. "Hurry, Eldest," Jenoe said. "There'll be none left before long."

The muttering of the spell seemed to go on for a long time, but at last the Mettai hurled their fistfuls of mud at the sky, and several dozen more

eagles began to rise into the air and soar toward the settlement. "Forward!" Jenoe shouted to the army.

Again the warriors started off at a run toward the Fal'Borna settlement. The white-hairs' assault on the eagles continued. The second group of birds glided toward the few remaining eagles first conjured by the Mettai.

When at last the soldiers of Stelpana were close enough to the sept, Jenoe called for a halt, his breath coming in great gasps and his face shining with sweat.

Tirnya was winded as well, but she felt fresher than her father looked. "Are you all right, Father?" she asked.

"Yes, of course," Jenoe said impatiently. "Archers!" he called.

It almost seemed that the Fal'Borna had been waiting for Jenoe's signal, so suddenly did the wind rise from the west.

Jenoe scowled. "Damn them!" He turned to Fayonne. "Find me their Weavers, Eldest."

"Yes, Marshal."

Once more, the Mettai began to conjure, and this time when they threw their mud in the direction of the sept, it turned into that silvery dust Tirnya remembered from their last encounter with the Fal'Borna. The white-hairs' wind didn't seem to slow the conjuring. It flew straight at the sept before settling over the shelters and garden plots like a fine mist. Almost instantly the entire settlement appeared to glow, as if the white moon had fallen to the ground with the latest group of slain eagles. Tirnya could see at least three faint glimmerings of yellow in the sea of white light.

"You see them?" Jenoe called to no one in particular. "Those are the Weavers! Concentrate your volleys on them! Fire!"

A thousand bows thrummed; a swarm of arrows rose into the air, only to be knocked back by the white-hairs' wind so that most of them fell far short of the village.

The second group of eagles was over the settlement now, but rather than diving toward the Fal'Borna or their horses, they swooped at the other eagles and began to attack them.

"No!" Fayonne whispered.

"Eldest!" Jenoe called to the woman. "What are they doing?"

"I don't know, Marshal. I wasn't really sure what they'd do, but I didn't expect this."

The rasping screams of the birds seemed to drown out all other sound. The second group of eagles now vastly outnumbered the first, and they attacked in packs of three and four, tearing at their victims with those enormous beaks and cruel talons. Several more of the birds dropped to the ground, dead or dying.

Tirnya could see the Fal'Borna pointing up at the eagles. A moment later, the white-hairs appeared to decide that they could turn their full attention to the approaching army. She could hear voices shouting, but she couldn't make out what they were saying.

` Try putting them to sleep," Jenoe said. "That seems our best chance at this point."

Fayonne looked at him. "The eagles?"

"No, the Fal'Borna. Your finding spell worked. This one works the same way, doesn't it?"

"Yes," Fayonne said. "If you mean the way it gets to them."

Jenoe didn't have a chance to answer. At that moment, several of the Waterstone captains shouted a warning. They were pointing in the direction of the sept. Dozens of the men behind them had broken ranks to flee.

Tirnya looked at the settlement, expecting to see Fal'Borna warriors on horseback, but at first she saw nothing.

"Gods save us all," she heard Enly mutter.

"What?" she said. "I don't see.."

But she did. Finally. And the sight of it turned her innards to water.

It looked like a breaker rolling toward the Aelean shore. But instead of the aqua waters of the Sea of Stars, this wave was made of fire. It was pale yellow, like the eyes of the angry young Fal'Borna Tirnya had spoken to in the last sept. That was why she'd had trouble seeing it at first. Now she could see nothing else. The wave grew as it approached the armies of Stelpana, until it towered over them.

Jenoe stared at the wave as if it were an army of wraiths, his eyes wide, his mouth agape. "Eldest!" he finally managed to say. "Can you do anything?"

"We can try" was all the eldest said.

She and the other Mettai were already bending to pick up dirt, their blades ready. They had spread themselves in a single broad row so that they stood in front of a good portion of the army.

The Mettai cut their hands, mixed the blood with the earth, and began to chant their spell. For once, Tirnya heard them distinctly. "Blood to earth," they said. "Life to power, power to thought…"

That was all. They stood utterly still, watching that rolling wave of flame. A strange silence settled over the plain. Everyone seemed to be waiting to see what that wave would do to them, and what the Mettai might be able to conjure to protect them.

"Eldest?" Tirnya's father said.

Fayonne raised her blade hand, as if to silence him, but she didn't say a word or take her eyes off the Fal'Borna's fire.

Tirnya could feel the heat of it on her face and hands. The air was growing hot enough to make it uncomfortable to inhale. She could hear the flame hissing, although as far as she could tell it had done nothing to burn the grass over which it passed.

Her father was watching the Mettai, clearly unnerved. She could tell that he wanted to say something-to demand to know what they were going to do, or to implore them to do whatever it was quickly. But she could see as well that he didn't dare. He was treading on unfamiliar ground, watching a battle of magic against magic. She had never seen him look more helpless.

And still the wave bore down on them, the heat striking at the Eandi armies like a war hammer. Tirnya thought that her clothes and hair and skin would burst into flame at any moment, and she felt certain that Fayonne and her people had waited too long.

But when at last the eldest called out "Now!," her voice sounded surprisingly calm.

"Earth to water!" the Mettai said in almost perfect unison.

At the same time, they hurled the dirt at that wall of flame, the small clods of mud looking pitiful against the Fal'Borna's fire. But instantly the mud turned to water; great torrents of water that appeared to surge toward that magical wave like Ravens Wash during the rains of the Planting. Tirnya didn't know how it was possible for the Mettai to conjure so much water from so little earth. But they did. And when that magical fire met the conjured flood of water, they produced an explosion of white steam that scalded Tirnya's face and knocked her, her father, and many of the captains standing with them ontc their backs. The Mettai were thrown back as well, and the steam rose into the air in a huge billowing cloud.

Tirnya could hear screams coming from the right and left, and she assumed that the Mettai had not been able to block entirely the Fal'Borna fire magic.

"Report!" Jenoe called, climbing to his feet. "I want to know numbers of wounded and dead!"

He turned to the eldest, who was being helped to her feet by her son. "The sleeping spell, Eldest! Please! Before they can attack us again!"

"We're lucky that wasn't shaping," Gries said, his face red from the heat of the fire and steam. "We'd all be dead."

Enly shook his head. "It wasn't luck. The shapers were still fighting off the eagles."

Tirnya looked toward the sept again, and saw that with the first group of eagles all dead or maimed, the second flock had begun to attack the Fal'Borna, and the white-hairs had resumed their magical assaults on the birds.

The Mettai were conjuring again, and as with the finding spell, when they threw this magic it turned to a fine glittering powder and streaked over the plain to the settlement, where it fell like a light snow on the sept. Immediately Tirnya saw the white-hairs go down, as if struck by unseen warriors. A cheer went up from the Eandi soldiers behind her.

Seeing their prey rendered helpless, the great eagles that still circled over the sept pounced, digging their talons into the prone bodies and tearing at them with their massive beaks.

"We should finish it," Jenoe said grimly. He turned to Tirnya and the other captains. "I want the children spared. But every adult is to be killed." Tirnya and Enly shared a look.

"Forgive me, Marshal," Gries said. "But am I to understand that you want us to slaughter the Fal'Borna while they sleep? The men and the women?" Jenoe drew himself up and took a breath. "That's right, Captain."

"But-"

Tirnya's father held up a hand to stop him. Several soldiers were approaching from both ends of the army.

"Report," Jenoe said.

A man in a Qalsyn uniform sketched a quick bow. "We los' one hundr'd an' twelve, sir."

"One hundred and twelve dead?" Stri said, incredulous.

The soldier nodded. "Anoth'r two hundr'd or so were burned an' need healin'."

Jenoe turned to a soldier wearing the colors of Fairlea. "What about your men?"

"Ninety-six dead, sir. More'n a hundr'd hurt."

"And yours?" Jenoe said to a soldier from Waterstone.

"We don' know yet, sir. A' least one hundr'd an' fifty dead. More than tha' probably. An' two hundr'd hurt."

Jenoe nodded. "I'm sorry for your losses, Marshal, Captain," he said to Hendrid and Gries, both of whom appeared shocked by what they had heard. "But to answer your question, Captain Ballidyne: Yes, I want them killed while they sleep. That was just one attack, and thanks to the Mettai we were spared the worst of it. And still we had hundreds of soldiers wounded or killed. We can't trifle with this enemy. They're at our mercy now, and I don't dare show them any." He gazed toward the sept as the eagles continued their bloody feast. "Please carry out my orders. Take archers with you and kill those eagles, too. I don't want to lose any more men today."

"Yes, Marshal," Enly said quietly.

The other captains led their men into the sept, but Tirnya hung back for a moment.

"Father?"

Jenoe didn't seem to have noticed that she was there. He started at the sound of her voice and frowned upon seeing her.

"You have orders to carry out, Tirnya. Please see to them."

He turned his back on her before she could say more. She wasn't used to hearing him speak to her so, but she couldn't bring herself to be angry with him. After a moment, she followed the others.

She walked quickly and soon had caught up with her men. Oliban and Dyn, two of her lead riders, were walking together. When they saw her they made room between them.

"Capt'n," Oliban said by way of greeting, his voice low.

Tirnya merely nodded. The men around them were so subdued one might have thought that they had lost this battle.

She heard the thrum of bows once more and looked up in time to see two eagles laboring to keep aloft, both with several arrows jutting from their breasts.

"I've never had t' kill an enemy like this before," Dyn said.

Tirnya pulled her sword free. "None of us has."

Already she could see soldiers thrusting their blades into the chests of sleeping Fal'Borna. Some of the soldiers were from Qalsyn; others were from Fairlea or Waterstone. All of them seemed disturbed by what they were being made to do.

"We should check the shelters," she said. "There'll be warriors in many of them."

She approached the nearest of the structures, which had been fashioned out of wooden poles and rilda skins. Pushing aside a flap that covered the entrance and stepping into the shelter, she found half a dozen sleeping children and two women, both of them holding spears.

"Damn," she whispered.

"Capt'n?" Oliban called to her from outside the shelter.

"It's all right," she said, her teeth clenched against a sudden sick feeling in her stomach.

She considered ordering Oliban into the shelter and telling him to do this. But she quickly dismissed the idea. Then she wondered if she and her men should drag the women out of the shelter, so that the children wouldn't awake to find themselves with two corpses. But would they be any better off leaving the shelter and finding the bodies out there? And did she want anyone else to see her do this?

In the end she decided that she didn't. She stood over the first woman and pulled her sword back, intending to stab her through the heart. These women were white-hairs. Their people had taken Deraqor from the Onjaefs and had killed thousands upon thousands of Eandi over the centuries. This should have been easy for her.

Her sword hand dropped to her side. She opened her mouth to call for Oliban, knowing that she wouldn't be able to carry out her orders.

But at that moment, the woman before her stirred and her eyes fluttered open. Golden yellow they were, and for just an instant, she stared up at Tirnya.

Her heart abruptly pounding, Tirnya jumped forward and plunged her blade into the woman's chest. The Fal'Borna cried out, flailed briefly, and then was still, blood staining her shirt.

The piece of rilda skin covering the shelter's entrance was thrown back. "Capt'n!" Oliban said. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," Tirnya said, breathing hard. "One of them… one of them woke up."

Oliban looked down at the woman Tirnya had slaughtered. After a moment, he drew his blade, walked to the other woman, and killed her as well. Then they left the shelter and made their way to the next one.

It was slow, grim work. At one point, Tirnya heard shouting and screams from the far end of the sept. She later learned that several Fal'Borna, including at least two shapers, had awakened before any of the Eandi soldiers reached them and had put up quite a fight before being killed by Stelpana's archers. Several more Eandi soldiers had died, most with snapped necks.

But by late in the day, all the adult Fal'Borna had been slain, as had the remaining eagles. Tirnya had rarely seen such carnage. The sept was littered with bodies, the earth stained crimson in many places. Jenoe ordered his men to pile the bodies and burn them, which meant that all of the Fal'Borna children were awake long before the Eandi army left the sept. Most of the younger ones cried piteously, while the oldest among them stared stony-faced at the pyres and the Eandi soldiers.

Tirnya had learned her lesson from her encounter with the boy in the last settlement; this time she made no effort to speak with any of the children. She stood at the edge of the village nearest to the horse paddock, staring off across the plain, hoping that the wind wouldn't shift and send the stench of burning corpses her way.

She hadn't been alone long when she heard a footfall behind her. Knowing that it had to be Enly, she turned, the words on her tongue intended to send him away and let him know in no uncertain terms that she didn't need comforting or sympathy. But it wasn't Enly who stood before her, nor was it Gries, or Stri, or her father, any of whom she also might have expected. Instead, she found herself facing her lead riders, Oliban, Qagan, Dyn, and Crow.

"What's happened?" she asked.

Oliban looked at the other three, but they were all eyeing him. For a long time he had spoken for all of them. It seemed that the others expected him to do so now, too.

"Oliban?" Tirnya said.

"We…" He shook his head. "Th' men are… troubled by wha' happened t'day, Capt'n. They wasn't happy abou' goin' t' war alongside th' Mettai, bu' they knew tha' we'd be better off with a bit o' magic on our side. Bu' this…" He shook his head. "Killin' white-hairs is one thing. Don' ge' me wrong. None of us has any problem with that. Bu' killin' them while they sleep? What are we doin', Capt'n?"

Before she could answer, Crow said, "There's some who are sayin' now tha' they'd rather face th' Fal'Borna with no magic at all than use any more o' this blood magic."

"Is that what you say, Crow?" Tirnya asked.

He hesitated, but only for an instant. "Yes, Capt'n, I guess it is."

Tirnya wasn't sure what to say to them. A part of her felt that she should have been angry. They were questioning her judgment as well as her father's. But she also understood. The first time the Mettai used magic on their behalf, their monstrous wolves nearly killed several soldiers. This time the eagles seemed more intent on each other than on the Fal'Borna, and the sleeping spell, while effective, made what should have been a battle into something more akin to a massacre. She didn't want anything to do with magic anymore, regardless of whether the conjurings were done by Mettai or Fal'Borna. Then again, had it not been for Mettai magic, most of them would be dead. She reminded the men of this.

"Ye're right," Oliban told her. "Tha' spell saved hundr'ds, if no' thousands." He glanced at Crow. "T' be honest, some don' hold with those who'd go on without any Mettai magic at all. I don' much like th' Mettai, bu' I don' think we can win this war without 'em. What we did t'day, though; tha' was… it was wrong, Capt'n. There's no other word for it. It was wrong."

"Do you think we could have won the battle any other way?" she asked, looking at each of the men in turn.

For some time none of them answered.

Finally, Oliban said, "Probably not."

She thought to ask if they were suggesting then that this war wasn't worth fighting, but she wasn't sure she wanted to hear their answer to that.

"I don't think so, either," she said instead. "This is war. You do what you have to in order to win. Today we did something that none of us felt good about. But at the end of the day, we're alive and our army is largely intact. Given what that Fal'Borna fire did to our lines, despite the Mettai spell, I think it's clear that matters could have been far worse."

Crow looked like he might argue the point further, but Oliban cut him off with a sharp look.

"Thank you, Capt'n," Oliban said.

The others muttered thank-yous as well, and they left her there. She watched them walk back into the sept and rejoin the rest of her company. Then she started back herself. She spotted Enly from afar and steered clear of him, but wound up face-to-face with her father.

"I just had a meeting with the captains and Hendrid," he said. "Where were you?"

"I'm sorry, Father. I was… my lead riders needed to speak with me. I was with them."

"Is there a problem?"

She shook her head. "They were asking about rations. That's all."

He eyed her doubtfully.

"What did you tell the other captains?" she asked, hoping to forestall more questions.

"I didn't like the way today's battle went. We were poorly prepared and took too long to develop a strategy for attack. Out here on the plain, an army as large as ours can easily be spotted from a distance. The Fal'Borna will be ready for our attack, and the next sept might ride to meet us. So we're going to alter our marching formations. I want archers and the Mettai at the front of our lines at all times. And I want the archers mustered into companies of one hundred each. These companies will march together, eat together, and make camp together. They should be able to respond to commands instantly. Each of you will have command of one of them. Enly will tell you which is yours."

"Enly?" she said.

"You weren't there; he was."

She heard the rebuke in his voice and didn't dare argue. "All right. What about the swordsmen?"

Her father shook his head, glancing around the sept at his army. "I almost wish I hadn't brought any. This war will be won with magic and arrows. We lost more than two hundred bowmen today. I've already ordered as many swordsmen to take the places of those who fell. If I had more bows, I'd order more into the arrow companies."

Tirnya nodded. Magic and arrows. "What about the Mettai?" she asked. "What do you mean?"

"Some of the men were disturbed by the way today's battle went. To be honest, I was, too."

Jenoe's eyes narrowed. "Disturbed in what way?" he demanded.

Tirnya threw her arms wide. "You have to ask? We killed them in their sleep, Father! I had to kill a woman who lay in her shelter beside children!"

His face reddened and the muscles in his jaw tightened. He rarely lost his temper, but Tirnya had seen him go on tirades in the past, and she expected he would now. When he spoke, though, his voice was low and controlled. In many ways this was worse.

"You wanted this war, Tirnya. You wanted the Mettai with us. You got both. This is the magic we have, and distasteful though you may find it, this is the only way we can win. If you prefer to watch the Fal'Borna slaughter our army, then I'll tell Fayonne to take her people and go home. Otherwise, I'd suggest you keep quiet and follow my orders."

She felt as though he had slapped her.

Jenoe walked off before she could speak, leaving Tirnya to stare at the ground and try not to cry.

When at last she had composed herself, she looked up and caught sight of Enly and Gries, who were together and walking her way. Her first thought was that for two rivals who were supposed to hate each other, they agreed a lot and spent a good deal of time together. Her next thought was that she really wanted nothing to do with either of them just then.

She turned and started to walk away.

"Tirnya!" Enly's voice.

She stopped, exhaled, and turned back to them.

"What?" she said, making no effort to mask her annoyance.

Enly stopped in front of her, seemingly unaffected by her tone. "I thought you'd want to know that I put you in charge of the archers from your company and Stri's. Stri agreed to take command of a company from Fairlea."

Tirnya nodded. "Very well. Thank you."

"Are you all right?" he asked, stepping closer to her and lowering his voice.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she said, turning and walking away from him again. "We won today, didn't we?"