From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [150]
Reality came rushing back. They were in Darkness. Achan was far away, likely engaged in battle.
She shook her head. Why did it matter where Achan was? She lay back down, putting space between her and Master Rennan.
She suddenly knew that those last scenes had been memories. She had seen Bran in the Mahanaim dungeon. He had brought Achan’s bag. But Vrell had not confessed her identity. She could not fathom why she had kept silent.
But she already knew. She had not confided the truth to Bran that day because she had been too concerned for Achan’s welfare. More concerned about this mysterious young man than her betrothed.
She turned around and stared into the darkness where Bran lay sleeping. He had not been to blame for their parting.
She had been the one to go astray.
27
Achan and his army moved south toward Armonguard and the eventual battle—now only eight thousand strong, having lost a thousand in the battle of Reshon Gate. Desperate to be outdoors in the sun, Achan rode Scout behind Shung and Manu. Sir Caleb had insisted he wear his armor if he were going to ride, though he couldn’t wear his helm due to the burn on his ear. His new haircut garnered more stares than ever. The fireball had singed so much hair that Achan’s short haircut made him look like a little boy.
The army moved in one seemingly endless line, stretching in both directions as far as he could see, which wasn’t far considering the thickness of this massive forest. Achan rode beside his wagon, which moved at the back of the vanguard and at the head of the center of their procession. He could see the archers before Shung and Manu, bows strapped to their backs or saddlebags. Scouts moved through the forest, keeping watch for any who might come at them from the sides.
Since Achan had ridden Dove yesterday, he rode Scout now. Scout tended to get jealous of Dove. Bart, the piebald packhorse Cole was riding, didn’t seem to care who he belonged to. Though he likely believed Cole his owner, if anyone, since Cole rode and cared for him.
Achan steered Scout up to Bart’s side. “How are you today, Cole?”
“I’m well, Your Highness. Thank you for asking.” Cole always spoke to Achan with more decorum than a noblewoman would use.
“Have you thought any more about training as a squire?” Achan asked.
Cole shook his choppy brown hair out of his eyes. “I’m but a stray, Your Highness.”
“So am I, in case you forgot. Both my parents are dead.”
Cole merely stared.
“Do you want to train as a squire or not, Cole? Let your rank have nothing to do with it and answer the question.”
Cole flushed so that his face blended in with his hundreds of freckles. He combed his fingers through Bart’s mane. “Suppose I’d like to try, Your Highness.”
“Then try you shall. Come to my tent after dinner tonight.”
Cole looked up with wide eyes. “I’m to be your squire?”
“Why not? I don’t have one. Only four shadows and a valet-page.”
“But you should have a trained squire, one who can serve you well. I could squire for someone else. Kurtz, maybe.”
Achan glanced behind him to where Kurtz and Cortland rode side by side. Sir Caleb had freed Kurtz at Achan’s request. “You’re not squiring for Kurtz.”
“But I bunk in the same tent as him. It makes good sense,” Cole said. “Then you could pick someone better.”
The last thing the lad needed was Kurtz teaching him the ways of the world. “Only knights and royalty take on squires. Since Kurtz is neither, he’s not an option. I’d prefer to train my own squire, Cole, and have chosen you. What say you?”
“I’m… I’m honored, Your Highness. Thank you!”
Achan chuckled. The boy was honored whenever Achan looked at him. “You’re welcome, Cole. Until tonight.” Achan rode up beside Shung’s mount. “I’m going to ride down the line.”
Shung nodded and turned his horse. “Kurtz, Cortland, ride ahead. Manu and Shung will follow the prince.”
Achan stifled a grin. Shung only ever referred to him as “the prince” when he spoke to others as the head of Achan’s guard. Otherwise, Achan was always Little Cham.
Achan followed Kurtz and Cortland down