****
In the end our party voted to search the forest that morning. We were already three days behind the bandits’ progress, and it would be foolhardy to try and ascertain their location at night when we could barely see two feet in front of us. Torches would give away our location, and the mages weren’t about to use up magic tracking when we would need it for our inevitable encounter later on.
I spent a restless night tossing and turning. It was a warm summer night—cold in the shade of the forest, but still heated enough by fire to spend it under the stars instead of a tented canvas. Next to me I could hear Paige doing the same. She put on a brave act, but I suspected she was nervous for her first test of duty. When we went to battle, she would be undoubtedly glued to my side.
The entire camp was packed up and ready to go by the first morning’s light. Ian, Paige and I were no exception. Every one of us was restless and ready for battle. Sixteen days of camping in the wilderness, and without the repetitive training routine of the Academy, I was itching to use my magic.
Five straight years of routine were hard to break. Here in the regiment we were expected to conserve our magic while on duty—one could never know when we could be forced to engage—and with the added pressure of my squad’s disapproval I was ready to show it.
Luckily for us, the bandits’ trail was easy to pick up with the discovery of the horse droppings the night before. The criminals clearly hadn’t expected us to investigate this far south, so they hadn’t bothered to hide the rest of their tracks. Everything was still a little wet with the morning dew, but by midday we had left the cool cover of the denser part of the forest for the sparser terrain deep in the mountains.
Summer heat beat down like the gods’ pounding fists. In no time at all I was drenched in sweat and grime and my clothes were sticking to my skin. I was definitely happy Darren wasn’t there to witness his betrothed’s repugnant stench. Let alone the way the undershirt beneath my chainmail had turned brown and wet in the most revolting of ways.
Hours dragged by and the ground we passed became coarse. Jagged granite lined the narrow trail up and down into the heart of the northern range. Our stops became more frequent as even the horses grew weary.
It was late into the afternoon when two scouts finally returned bearing the news all of us had been anxiously anticipating: the horses and the bandits’ base camp were just three more miles southwest of our current location. Apparently they had a small camp set up along the base of three nearby mountains. The heart of the Iron Range. Also desolate. A territory previously ignored by the regiment whose patrols had focused along the border and northernmost townships.
Which was probably the reason the outlaws had chosen it. And from the report the scouts had given, it had been in use for a year at the least. The horses were only a recent addition. There was livestock as well. Two cows and a small bay of pigs were stationed in pens at the edge of a roughly made fort. Several chickens clucking away in a wooden fixture nearby. Even several thin rows of mountain-hardy crops: red lettuce and stubby carrot heads.
The bandits’ set up was far too permanent to be just a camp.
Paige scowled at the end of the scouts’ report. “They must have been living there awhile.”
“Explains the recent influx in thefts,” a soldier nearby added. “All this time we thought the incidents were Caltoth. Never would have suspected it was on our side of the border.”
“How many?”
“Thirty,” was the scouts’ reply.
“Only thirty? Why do they need forty horses?”
“Gods, Karl,” someone drawled, “they are thoroughbreds. The bandits were probably going to sell them to the Caltothians, not ride them.”
The head knight Killian cleared his throat above the soldiers’ discourse. “The scouts may have counted thirty, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t more nearby. I doubt they expect us, but we can’t be too careful. Ryder, I want you and half your band to take the camp with me. Avery, you are going to take the others and flank the outskirts in case there are others our scouts missed.” He continued to list the names for each squad.
“What about Combat?”
“Ian, you are with Ryder’s party. Ryiah—Avery.”
My face fell. Not because I didn’t admire Avery’s conduct—she was a skilled knight, from what I had seen during the morning drills. It was that once again I was forced to join the action-less party.
Ian caught my eye and shook his head slowly. I bit my lip and took a deep breath. He knew exactly what I was thinking. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe our leader chose Ian for his seniority.
“Great, I’m stuck with her. If we run into trouble you had better hope we don’t need a mage who can actually fight.”
I tasted the copper tang of blood, and realized I had bit too deep in an effort to keep my comeback to myself.